PREVIEW
... ch time—the gap between her brain’s resistance and her body’s hunger narrowing, narrowing, gone.
By the third orgasm she was crying.
Not like Veronica—not the devastating, involuntary flood of a woman being broken against something larger than herself. Clara cried quietly.
Steadily.
Tears running in clean lines from the corners of her eyes into her hair, her mouth still making sounds, her hands still gripping the sheets.
She cried the way someone cries whe ...
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