Deshea Surratt

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“Fuck.” Those blue eyes grow dark, and his fingers grip my jaw as he pulses inside me. “I’m getting my ten days.”  “Ten days,” I breathe as liquid heat fills me. “But that’s it—” A sharp bite to my throat makes me cry out, and then he’s sucking my skin, soothing the sting and leaving his mark. 
The Words
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