Lara wanted to touch him. Wanted to feel his sleek skin stretched over hard muscles, but she was afraid, because she knew that to do so would be her undoing. There would be no turning back. Aren’s lips paused, and she held her breath, waiting for them to descend on her own even as she wondered whether, if she allowed herself to sink into this hot pool of desire, she’d ever surface again. Whether she’d want to. But he only rested his forehead against hers. “I need you to say that you want this, Lara. That you’re allowing this because you choose to, not because it was forced upon you.” Her chest
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