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“Please,” she whispered, her bare breasts rising and falling as her breathing grew quicker—shallower. Her desperation was palpable, a kind of ache comparable to none. There was no logical explanation for her lust.
And we’re off! The author is writing the fuck out of this scene I’m not gonna lie. Loving this energy
Tolu’s 2025 Year in Books
Take a look at Tolu’s Year in Books, including some fun facts about their reading.
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