“I choose you,” I say, feeling the butterflies in my stomach at the way his eyes devour my chest. He’s starving, and I want to be his offering. I’d willingly be his sacrifice. Make me yours.”
“I choose you,” I say, feeling the butterflies in my stomach at the way his eyes devour my chest. He’s starving, and I want to be his offering. I’d willingly be his sacrifice. Make me yours.”
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