It was as if he wanted to eat me whole and was trying to make sure I wouldn’t make an escape, but I had no intention of doing any of that. I wanted—no, needed him, the taste of coffee, mint, and him soaking into me, turning my skin to fire. His other hand slapped down on my arse, the slight sting replaced by a hard pressure as he ground my soft wetness against the hardness lurking inside his pants, then he let out a long groan, his forehead pressing against mine as his hand moved, slotting between my legs. “This is about you, omega, not me. You need to give me more of your pleasure—a whole lot
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