Leandra Parsons

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“I need you,” he grits out against my lips, his hands moving from my body and letting me go. I want to protest at the lack of his warmth, but then the sound of his zipper echoes through the air with a promise, and my heart beats faster.  Need courses through me at an intensity I’ve never felt. He pulls his mouth away from me, and a whimper escapes, my eagerness to resume evident.
Sweet Collide (Saints of Redville)
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