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12 - Oakley.

Her cheeks are flushed a deep crimson as she watches me, her lips slightly parting as our gazes remain locked.

I swallow hard and grab the black thong, kneeling before her.

The position makes it impossible not to imagine forcing my mouth to her center while I make her scream my name. I push the thoughts from my mind and lightly lift her wounded leg first.

Eva winces, proving she couldn’t have dressed alone. Bending over would have been trouble enough, especially with her bruised ribs.

I slide the fabric over her left ankle and then her right before gently pulling them up her thick thighs. My cock is hard and throbbing with need as my fingers skim over her soft porcelain skin. When I get them to the top of her thighs, Eva grabs my hands in hers, eyes wide. Her tongue wets her bottom lip. “I think I can handle it from here, sir,” she murmurs.

I clench my jaw, wishing she hadn’t stopped me. All I want is to slide my finger through her center and feel how wet she is. The way she shudders
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