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... fter a round, Rosvitha sat on the desk, her nightdress draped casually over her body, thin straps dangling, her fragrant shoulders enticing. She lowered her gaze to her tail tip, her brows involuntarily furrowing slightly.
But soon she snorted coldly, deciding to make Leon play the “foot-washing slave” again later.
With that in mind, Rosvitha looked up at Leon in front of her. The dragon slayer had his hands on the chair’s armrests, staring blankly at the ceiling, as if contempla ...
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