You became the lover of the Master of the City, kicking and screaming that you wouldn't do it. The thought sped my pulse, I couldn't help it. We were on our knees on the bed with Richard pressed to the front of me, and Jean-Claude against my back. Today, the only real comfort he could offer was the touch of a friendly hand.
Stop fighting, and maybe the beast will stop fighting, too. He needs more food. The memory rolled back and left me gasping on the bed. You're insulted, aren't you? she asked.
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