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“I love her, but every hug leaves bullet holes in my chest. Every kiss is another scar upon my flesh. Every thrust, every touch, every moan that escapes her lips...they are famine to my soul, and I still can't let her go.” — H.T. Martin
I love her, but every hug leaves bullet holes in my chest. Every kiss is another scar upon my flesh. Every thrust, every touch, every moan that escapes her lips...they are famine to my soul, and I still can't let her go.