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31. Chelsea

Chelsea

Prepared to experience my very first strangle, I grasped his wrist and stuffed more oxygen inside my mouth. The sounds within my mind had dissipated. The mind had been purged, only to be replenished by an overwhelming sense of dread. Questions packed my mind. The sadness was replaced by confusion.

If he kills me, would he be happy?

At that moment, I swallowed and felt his grip gradually loosen, his thumb delicately grazing the bulge of my throat. My face quickly became flushed. Breathlessness overcame me.

It was not like how I expected it to be....

He wasn’t killing. Yet, he was killing me.

Before tilting my head to the side to allow his lips access to my neck, his fingers moved to my nape and his lips gently exhaled against my skin.

The picture of last night flashed right in front of my eyes. His touches had magics that my body craved so dearly.

The area nestled between my thighs became damp. The depths of my shame knew no bounds, for in that moment, all sense of reason abando
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