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... eamed like it had a vendetta against pleasure.
Lux didn’t flinch. His mouth was too busy pressed against Rava’s neck, tongue tracing a slow path toward her collarbone. One of her legs was draped over his thigh, slick with sweat, the evidence of round fourteen still drying in sin-streaked trails on her skin—her face, her thighs, and yeah, a bit on her ribs because he’d gotten very enthusiastic halfway through.
His hand lazily circled one of her nipples, teasing until it pebbled ag ...
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