The Player

The Player

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WpMetadataReadOngoing18m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Tue, Jul 1, 2014
I look at him and smile. The tears fall from my eyes but I stay strong. His dark gaze falls upon me and he frowns. "I don't want you to hate me," he says. I chuckle and say, "Well it's to late for that." His green eyes pierce through me, and I suddenly become very uncomfortable. His eyes darken and he seems to radiate cold air. I shiver and look at the ground. I'm not ashamed about what I said, because it's true and he needs to know that.
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I anxiously staring at him, waiting for him to laugh and tell me it's a joke, a really bad fucking joke. He's in front of me in a blink of an eye and picks me up. My legs wrap around his back as he holds my thighs firm. My back presses against the wall as he pushes us against it. His breath intertwining with mine. He presses his lips to mine and I can tastes the wine he must have had before coming to see me. His grip on my thighs tighten and he pushes himself harder against me. I gasp as the feeling of him between my legs ignites. "Harry," I breathlessly pant trying to pull myself away. "I haven't done any of my moves and you're already screaming my name."

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