hope

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Warm, slick hands stroke over my cheeks. “God, I’ve missed this ass. Maybe even more than who it belongs to.” That startles a choked laugh from me. My knuckles push against my skin as I dig my bruised fingertips into the mirror. “You’re such a dic—” My words cut out with a sharp hitch of air as I feel his teeth clamp down on my ass. “Be nice,” he says softly, before flicking his tongue over my skin to soothe the ache.
hope
UGH HOW ARE THEY SO CUTE AND HOT AT THE SAME TIME
Still Beating (Lost Boys, #2.6)
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