Danielle

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He shifts up to give me more friction, and I gasp at the sensation from the rough fabric of his jeans, the button at the top pressing against my wet panties. I rotate my hips, sinking into him, massaging my clit against his pants. I moan. His fingers dig into my ass. He’s going to leave bruises, and I don’t care.
I Hate You (Waylon University, #3)
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