Sandra Christenson

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The words snap through me but before I can even draw another breath, his lips crash against mine. The kiss is bruising, desperate, his tongue invading my mouth with a feral hunger. His dominance is too much, and I’m left struggling to keep up. My inexperience is a stark contrast to his, but his intensity and our connection pulls me under, sweeping me away with every flick of his tongue.
Noel of Sin
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