Casey Garpiel

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“You are in my eyes,” she breathes, and my features tighten. Slowly she starts grinding her sweet spot over me. “You’re the one and only, all-ruling, all-consuming, king in mine. Of mine.” “Damn fuckin’ straight.” I rasp, growl, and groan. And then I flip her on her back, slide inside and hold there.
Break Me (Brayshaw, #5)
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