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CHAPTER 82

His lips brush against mine, and I hold my breath, the throb of my pulse pounding loudly in my mind.

He brushes his lips against my scars, which I shall bear for the rest of my life. "A word, Amanda," he says against my throat before placing light lips on my skin, releasing the tension in my body.

What exactly does he mean?

My eyelids flutter shut as I shake my head. That feels fantastic.

"To stop." His fingers brushed on my hip. "Give me one."

How can he expect me to think when his lips are on my throat and his hand is brushing up against my naked hip?

"I…" His fingertips whisper under my shirt and skim across my stomach before stopping less than an inch from the underside of my right breast. When he glides his hand back down to my hip, I let out a breath I hadn't realised I was holding.

"You?" he asks, raking his fangs softly across my throat before soothing the little burn with a leisurely swipe of his tongue.

"Why not just no?" As he trails more kisses up my jaw and up to the corn
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