Kylee

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We were up late last night. Delicious flashbacks of Alex’s head between my thighs flit back to me, and then ones of him teaching me to return the favor. Of him looking down at me like I hung the moon in the sky, my name a breathless curse from his lips. Now I know he whimpers—fucking whimpers—I’m truly screwed.
Nightshade (Sorrowsong University, #1)
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