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... is torso, one hand steady on Gabriel’s hip while the other mapped every inch of newly exposed skin. His mouth was hot, wet, unhurried. He lingered where Gabriel was most sensitive—under his ribs, just above the bone of his hip, along the faint line of a scar only a few had ever seen.
Gabriel’s back arched as Damian reached the waistband of his pants, unfastening them with maddening patience.
"Lift," Damian said, and Gabriel did, breath heavy.
The fabric slid down, leaving ...
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