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yes snap
perate gasp from her lungs. She choked on the conditioned air, her chest
impossibly soft. High-thread-count Egyptian cotton. The physical friction grounded he
oice echoed directl
g successful binding t
om. A spike of pure agony drove itself into her right temple. Her spine arche
greement. A bankrupt Long Island fam
hard truth settled in her chest like a stone. She was a dead Hollywood actress. If she wanted to breat
rise and fall in a steady rhythm. The panic drained from her veins, replaced by the icy, calculated focus s
f running w
ternal connection with the system. She look
cloud of white steam rolled out over the dark hardwood fl
to her chin. Her body naturally folded into a defensive, tremb
k bathrobe loosely tied at his waist. Drops of water fe
dge of the rug and
y categorized him. Strong jawline, intense dark eyes, a st
and his voice came out in a forced, gravelly tone that
wake up and f
a cheap internet Alpha Male
f her eyes. It was the system interface, displaying
yes to pause for a fraction of a second. She s
twitched upward into a cold, satisfied smirk. He t
. The text turned into a mess of sc
script was gone. S
n Oscar winner. She knew ex
line. She held her breath, forcing the blood to rush to her face, making her look flushed and fragile. One per
smirk
crossed his face. His right foot shifted backward, a tiny, clums
. He walked over to the marble
stal decanter. He pour
e sharp, high-pitched clinking sound echoed
lk robe were locked tight. His shoulders were practic
ed the du
et touched the thick Persian rug. She dragged her toes slight
he whiskey sloshed over the rim of his g
oice barely above a whisper, lacing it w
ow
allowed heavily, his dark eyes wide
sion. Handler 377 flashed a bright red warning.
ess in the world, she thought. I don't need
took another slow step toward
mpletely out of control. He gripped the crystal glass in
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