“I love you,” I murmured as he licked a tear from my cheek, desperate to own every part of me, even my tears.
“Tell me again,” he ordered, his gaze never leaving me. The intensity between us grew every day, like ivy across stone.
I think he would kill us both if I ever tried to leave.
And that thought brought a sadistic, sick comfort to me.
I would gladly take everything this man would ever give me.
And it was all because of a simple text…to the wrong pucking number.
Monroe-Lincoln.Kitabı okudu
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