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... pread in their mouths, pulling both of them back to thoughts of earlier intimacy.
Kyousuke's cooking movements slowed, his gestures becoming gentler.
Behind him, Sakura had stopped whatever she was doing earlier and simply clung to him—arms wrapped snugly around his waist, face resting against his back, her breathing slow and even.
It was the dead of night, utterly silent except for the bright light in the kitchen.
The man focused intently on his cooking. The woma ...
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