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When I finally go limp and flop against the bed, Ransom drags his fingers out of my pants. He licks them one by one, gazing down at me the whole time. “Mm,” he hums, a grin curving his lips. “I knew you would taste as sweet as you look. Tart like cherry pie, and silky like cream. Fucking delicious.”
Twisted Game (Filthy Wicked Psychos, #1)
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