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... rising in soft veils that clung to her skin.
Her nipples, flushed pink, stood stiff above the surface, the waterline just kissing the undercurve of her breasts.
She leaned her head back, lids heavy, hair damp against her neck, and let her legs fall open beneath the water.
Her fingers grazed her inner thigh, tracing slow, teasing circles, stoking a burning need that pulsed through her like wildfire.
The memory crashed in—Lor beneath her in the undercroft, his haze ...
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