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With their identities now, their words were simply attempts at provoking the other. Yuan Ye leaned back and fell straight into the pile of blankets with a thud. He laid there, flat, and looked at Fang Shaoyi. A hint of a smile was still painted on his face. He reached a hand out and unzipped the zipper of his jacket, lifting the t-shirt inside enough to reveal his solid abs. With his hand still holding his shirt up, he said, “Come fuck me.”
Fang Shaoyi’s eyes were dark. Yuan Ye ...
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