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... he had just run a marathon barefoot. Sweat clung to her skin, her lips parted, her face flushed with heat and humiliation. She thought that maybe, finally, it was over. That he had gotten what he wanted, and he would stop torturing her now.

But of course not.

Things didn’t come to an end as she had hoped. Instead, they only got worse. Much worse.

André leaned down again, his lips brushing her skin with the slow patience of a man savoring a last meal. He began kissing her— ...

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