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... uld’ve shaken him off, turned around, slapped him even—something.

But I didn’t.

Because the moment his lips brushed against the side of my neck, everything else fell away. My guilt. My anger. The loneliness. The ache of being hated by the man I once crushed under heel, and now... loved with every breath I took.

He didn’t speak. Didn’t give me time to think. Just turned me around with a firm grip on my waist, hands commanding, movements sure, gaze heavy. And when our eyes ...

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