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48-The Thorn To Her Roses

Nothing beats waking up to more than just the heat that radiates off your own body.

And absolutely nothing beats having your arms wrapped around a warm body frame whose nakedness blocks the ray of the sun seeping through the Windows and into the room.

Nothing ever compares to sniffing in the manly scent that is now thick with the smell of sweat and the aftermath of our love making. Not even the smell of my sheets that I sniff into every morning can beat this.

He was big.

Warm.

Hard.

And all mine.

His heart beat against his chest and my own head that was rested on it, in slow even rythms, rising and falling. I didn't have to look up to his face to know that he was wide awake, his fingers spanning along my spine was enough confirmation. Just like last night, no words seemed to pass between us. Our bodies probably did the talking and our minds had the understanding needed.

Curled up with him, I thought back to what I said yesterday an

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