He yanks her head back by her hair, hand fisting in her curls, and she gasps, swollen lips parting when his mouth trails downward over her neck.
She doesn't want to be handled with kid gloves, and this, this is a breath of fresh air. She can feel the marks rise on her skin, fresh and burning, before he's even finished making them.
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She doesn't want to be handled with kid gloves, and this, this is a breath of fresh air. She can feel the marks rise on her skin, fresh and burning, before he's even finished making them.