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...
His voice.
My head snapped toward the doorway, and there he was—Domenico—standing there, half in shadow, watching me. His eyes were dark, unreadable, but the edge in his tone made my whole body tense.
"You’re about to fuck your pussy with your fingers, princess. Who’s it for?" he asked again, quieter this time, but dead serious. "My son? The man you just called?"
I swallowed hard, heat rising to my face. "You shouldn’t be in here."
He didn’t move. "Answer ...
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