"Am I a fucking cop, Whitney?" He asks, deep and dominating, directly in my ear, sliding his cock into me with a slow, deep thrust. "Yes, Cade," I mumble, tears of anger pricking my eyes. "You're a fucking cop." The words taste sour coming out of my mouth, the feeling of betrayal even more invasive than it was before—before I knew for a fact that he was a fucking cop. He holds onto the cuffs as he fucks me, making sure I can't go anywhere, and I can't bring myself to tell him to stop. "That's right, I am a fucking cop, and so is 13." He thrusts again, moving his lips to the side of my neck,
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