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I let my gaze travel across his chest, up his throat, his chin, and settle on his lips. They’re parted slightly, the bottom one slightly fuller than the top. That’s the one I bit. The bottom one. That’s the one I had between my teeth. Soft, warm flesh. Dusty pink when I found it. Dark red when I left it.
Poetry On Ice (Totally Pucked, #1)
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