Isabella Carrasco

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I gasped, peering down at him with disbelief. “Heath, you can’t—you literally just⁠—” “I know,” he replied, spreading my folds with his fingers as he got a close-up view of the mess he’d just left. “Fuck me, that’s so hot.” Then he slipped his tongue right on in there.
Dear Reader (Devil's Backbone, #1)
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