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... oat as she glared at the dragon, her eyes narrowing in a mix of annoyance and arousal. The fabric of the lace undergarment clung to her skin briefly before it gave way to the dragon's strength, leaving her exposed and vulnerable in the moonlit chamber. Demond's cheeks burned a brighter shade of red, the same color as the roses that grew in the garden she had come only to despise, yet the redness of her cheek, and the cherries on the larger ones...it was a color that spoke of a different kind of ...
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