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He dismissed the window.
Slow.
One finger.
The purple-edged glow collapsed like smoke and was gone.
He looked down at her.
At Meera.
Her eyes had not recovered from the rolled-back state — they were coming down from it now, the whites receding, the dark irises finding themselves again, finding the lamp-light and the room and the man standing above her with his cock still at her face. The ahegao still hanging off her. The j ...
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