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... ble, creeping warmth he didn’t want to acknowledge. He did it. He actually did it.

He had imprinted his chaotic, broken psyche onto the person he loved without knowing it. He had marked Yu Xi as his own in the most fundamental way possible.

The memory didn’t care about his crisis. The fucking continued, a relentless, sweaty, filthy grind. His past self was chasing his own end, his hips slamming forward with a final, desperate intensity.

The feeling of Yu Xi’s body clenchi ...

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