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real. What the hell are you doing to me?" |
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Feeling his torment, she reached out to him, and suddenly she was pressed tightly against his chest. And then his mouth came down on hers. |
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She responded quickly and ardently, loving the way his lips were harsh without hurting, the way his tongue plunged inside her mouth to explore without invading. He tasted of the herbs and spices used at dinner, overlaid with fresh mint and the unique flavor of him. |
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His hands moved up to grasp her hair, not gently but without hurting, holding her head immobile as he deepened their kiss. "Abby." His voice was a murmur against her lips, a single word that sounded at once of pain and reproach, sensuality and surrender. |
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Her hands reached up his back, stroking the cool smoothness of his robe and hating the way it interfered with her touching his skin. He moved abruptly, at once laying Abby down and stripping off his impeding garment. |
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He was bare underneath except for his abbreviated male underclothing, and as he stretched out atop her, pushing her nightgown up, Abby could feel the hot engorgement of his manhood against her thigh, straining to be free. She whimpered as he stroked her sensitive skin, her sides, her stomach, and finally barely touched the curve beneath her breasts. Teased, tortured, she shifted so that his hot, searching hand covered one eager mound. She gasped as he brushed, then squeezed her nipple. |
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She wanted more. She wanted to feel nothing |
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