Belinda Smith

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I tilted my head, baring my throat. “Bite me,” I breathed, beyond caring how desperate I sounded. “I want you to, Seb. So, so much.” “No.” The word rumbled from his chest—dark, commanding. “First, I want to show you how good I can make you feel. You’ll come from my cock, not my bite.” I tried not to die. Okay then.
Bite Marks & Broken Hearts (The Killigrew Street Case Files, #1)
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