Cristina Michel

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“Yes,” I said, and I crushed my lips to his, running my fingers up his chest and burying them in his hair. A moan sounded from deep in my throat, and I arched my body up, pushing it hard against his. But it wasn’t close enough. Every inch of me pulsed with desire for Blake. I wanted more. I wanted him.
Cristina Michel
my goodness gracious this is too much
The Hands of Time (Elementals #5)
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