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... hand.

Their bodies met in a soft, rhythmic slap, the booth’s curtain swaying gently by the small bursts of air created.

Freya pushed back, ravenous, her blindfolded face turned slightly, lips parted, moans a soft hum.

Kael’s hand slid up her spine, fingers tangling in her hair, pulling gently to arch her back further, his thrusts growing harder, more insistent.

His hunger surged, the need to push her further overtaking him.

He guided her to the floor, the ...

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