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Chapter 53

  • Illyra had to push him away. She should. She must.
  • She couldn’t.
  • His kiss was hard, even angry—passionate, yes, but nothing like the tender way he’d once embraced her. His chin was rough with five-o’clock shadow, and his powerful arms held her tightly against him as they knelt facing each other, bodies pressed together. Even through his black trousers, she could feel how much he wanted her. And she wanted him.
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