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Chapter 339: The Dancer and the Wallflower
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Chapter 341: Returning To His Pavilion
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... ep, almost methodical. He was testing her, seeing what, if anything, was left inside that empty, porcelain shell.
Her body responded on pure, base instinct. Her hips tilted to meet his thrusts. Her wetness was slick and plentiful. But she was dead. Her mind was a thousand miles away, her face a mask of still water. There were no moans. No gasps. No clenching of her muscles around him.
It was, he thought, like fucking a beautiful corpse.
And it was starting to piss him off ...
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