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... rdinated, fueled by whatever storm was raging inside her. She tasted like alcohol and something sweeter underneath—something uniquely her.

She needed this. Needed me to erase something, to drown her in something else. And fuck, if I wasn't already halfway gone myself.

Her fingers tugged at my hair, nails scraping against my scalp as she moved against me, rolling her hips in a way that made my blood heat. My hands found her waist, fingers pressing into her soft flesh as I tried to ...

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