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Trust the process, my ass.

When my lips met his, nothing in this world mattered but him and I. All the grievances we had in the couple of days were long forgotten, for now.

Now I regretted wearing this goddess awful, fitting long dress. None of my skin was touching his. I wanted contact, to feel his skin against mine. I craved him, for a moment I felt like I could die without his touch, die without him.

Within myself I knew it wasn't normal to feel like this, especially, when I knew very well what he said to me days prior. He was not mine, and I was not his, in two days time he would be gone, and I had to live my life without him.

Instead of that thought breaking off the trance I was in, it made me more clingy, horny.

"I want more. Touch me" I demanded, and he growled on my neck, his mouth living hickies everywhere it touched. His touch was possessive, his hand holding my waist like I would disappear any minute.

"Fuck, your stupid dress. Why did you wear such a long dress?" He growled trying to take it off
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Comments (1)
goodnovel comment avatar
Nicole Bryers
Yes! Trust the process! You were ALWAYS meant to be chosen, bcuz you're his fated mate & he is yours! For the rest of you're lives!
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