Iris Lim

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Time ground to a halt as he breathed. In. Out. Deciding what he wanted. When at last he found his answer, his hand slid back to pull my neck forward, he bent his head, he closed his eyes, and his lips brushed mine in the softest touch. And against his lips, I whispered, “I love you.”
A Lord of Many Masks (Wycliffe Family, #2)
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