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Megan Brielle

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I suck in a sharp breath and throw my head back at the sheer pleasure of his tongue, licking and swirling around my clit. “Oh gods.” “Which one are you calling out for?” he asks against my flesh. “Because it’s just you and me in this room, Vi, and I don’t share.” “You.” My fingers tangle in his hair. “I’m calling out for you.”
Fourth Wing (The Empyrean, #1)
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