Or he would find something—a wave in her hair, a little line in the contour of her brow or neck, that made an exquisite discovery. Ten thousand islands, and each one good for a night's rest. Brendon. “Do not force me to take you seriously,” she continued. This door, which was open, Jonathan locked and took out the key. He turned, expecting to see his wife. She wrapped her legs about his hips as he raised himself upon straight arms, piercing her with his gaze as he thrust into her.
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