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“For the fiftieth time tonight, Dante’s breath clean left his body. The man was a god. Dante spread his hands over his chest, shaping the contours, enjoying the possessive blast that heated his gut. “Perfetto.” Cade’s eyes widened. “Italian? You’re killing me.” — Kate Meader
For the fiftieth time tonight, Dante’s breath clean left his body. The man was a god. Dante spread his hands over his chest, shaping the contours, enjoying the possessive blast that heated his gut.
“Perfetto.”
Cade’s eyes widened. “Italian? You’re killing me.