Byron followed, a hand still on my wrist, but loosely now, not to hurt, but more to guide. I was shaking my head. I asked, and my voice was as lazy and soft as my touch, You're almost making pain noises, does it hurt? No, he said, and his voice showed a strain that his body didn't even hint at. I looked back at Micah and Nathaniel, I motioned them over.
From what I wanted him to do. Damn you, Jean-Claude, damn you. My eyes burned. He looked at me, and even with those drowning eyes, the look was very male.
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