Taylor Milligan-Csemez

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Mini tried to turn away from the earnestness in Zee’s voice again, but Zee didn’t let him. He cupped Mini’s face, pressed their foreheads together again. “I want you,” said Zee, and repeated it again. Again. “I want you, I want you.” “Fuck,” mumbled Mini, and finally moved, wrapping first one arm around Zee’s neck, then the other.
The Final Stroke (A Fresh Taste of Ink #6-7)
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