“Trust me, I got it. If I get dementia and forget everything, your name will still haunt me. Your not-girlfriend’s moans are burned into my brain. Rooooh-moooh-lo. Rooooh-moooh-lo.” His eyes widened slightly beneath the dark slashes of his brows, like he hadn’t expected that from me. I hadn’t expected that from me either. But I was spent, scared, and it was starting to feel like he was playing with me. A rough chuckle. “Not bad.” “Can I go now?” “I think I’m going to need you to moan my name a couple more times just to make sure you’ve got it right.” My mouth formed an O. He was playing with
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