Erica Ragland

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“They touched you,” he said, and so simply, as he stared at the male who’d lost consciousness while he stood before the next one. “Groped you.” He turned to me with eyes so dark and wild, I ceased breathing. He jabbed his finger at his chest. “My treasure. My creature.” He turned and kicked the leg of the male behind him, roaring, “Fucking mine.”
Nectar of the Wicked (Deadly Divine, #1)
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