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... r bones and presses against your heartbeat.
I must have lost consciousness at some point, because one moment I was sitting in the passenger seat of my car while my aunt drove me to her house because I was just too drunk to handle the wheel, and the next, I was in my bed... our bed. My matrimonial room.
But I wasn’t alone.
Warm hands were on me, they were familiar, heavy, possessive. The scent, the breath, the rhythm of it... all of it felt like that of my husband’s.
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