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The Tyrant's Secret fetish - Chapter 17
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Chapter 16
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Chapter 18
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... ng the same black hoodie he’d had on at dinner. Jaw tight. Eyes flicking up toward the ceiling like he could hear if anyone moved upstairs.
"You took forever," he whispered.
"You said quiet. I was being quiet." I stepped closer, voice barely above breath. "Mom almost got up for water when I passed the kitchen."
His nostrils flared. He grabbed the front of my shirt, not rough, just enough to pull me the last two steps and steered me toward the far corner where the old sect ...
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