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63.My dearest wish

The lion's head clock fixed to the wall read 10:22 a.m.

A big, tanned hand slides across the crumpled, cold, dark blue sheet beside him. Then Augusto, who was lying on his side, opened, still sleepy, his beautiful light green eyes and smiled satisfied for the pleasurable night yesterday - and at the same time dissatisfied - that now he wanted to wrap Soraia in his arms and she was not there.

A smell of fresh, warm coffee wafted to his nostrils, and slowly, he sat up in bed, stretched, got up, wrapped the sheet around his slender waist and headed for the kitchen.

Soraia was never one to cook, but that didn't mean that she didn't know how to do it, because laziness had always been her companion to escape the kitchen, although she was actually enjoying preparing that coffee and feeling that delicious smell lulling her senses.

Soraia was so busy with the task that she only felt Augusto's presence when he hugged her from behind and gave her a hickey on the neck.

-Augusto," she moaned as sh
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