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Suspecting Madeline

BRIELLE’S POV

Brielle's thighs and privates were in excruciating pain.

Her thoughts took her to last night when Lord Darius had lost his restraint and fucked her hard as she stared at the ceiling, tears streaming down her face.

Was it senseless or harsh? She was stumped as to what to call it.

Everything had been fine the night before.

The night when she finally got penetrated. She had been enjoying the pleasure mixed with pain, but then she had fucked up.

What was it about him that made her crave power? That made her want to be in control. She inquired solemnly.

It wasn’t his fault he had behaved that way toward her, right? She tried to think of a logical reason.

She had taken control. She had wanted the sweet sensation she was experiencing to spread throughout her body, so she bucked behind him, pushing him to the edge, and the action provoked him.

"God. I'm tired..." Brielle murmured to herself in the dim light, another wave of tears streaming down her cheeks as she sniffed.

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