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His fingers trace your cheekbone—slow, reverent—before threading into your hair to cradle your head like something precious. His thumb brushes the apple of your cheek, touch featherlight despite the scars and callouses mapping his hands.

"Say it again," he murmurs, voice scraped raw. His lips hover a breath from yours, sharing the same air. "*Say it.*"

The mask is off. The walls are down.

And Simon Riley?

He’s *ruined* for you.

Türkçe

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