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... s—still covered by that soaked tunic and those white cotton panties—but the sensation was unmistakable.
Warmth. Softness that gave way like risen dough. The faint scent of sweat mingled with something distinctly feminine—not perfume or flowers, but the raw musk of arousal that clung to the damp fabric.
It was earthy, slightly salty, with an undertone that was almost sweet in its honesty, like skin heated from within.
He could feel the texture of her panties against his li ...
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