“The whores I’ve known have never left my company unsatisfied,” he purred, his finger drifting south, to curve over the delectable flesh at her nape, the sharp arrow of her clavicle, pointing down. Down toward the breasts now surging toward him with each troubled breath. “How wonderful for you.” She mocked an impressed expression, but not before something else flickered over her features. Fear. Sadness. And something else … something that disappeared as quickly as it had materialized. “I suppose they’re paid not to complain. And I happen to know the ones who feign pleasure are better
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