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Summary
Lance was covered in sweat, his bangs plastered to his forehead and beads dripping from the tips of his short hair onto the gray regulation sheets. His legs, flexible as they were, had fallen open. He no longer had the strength or energy to hold them up.
“C’mon, baby,” Kinkade urged, tone gruff but gentle. “What’s the number?”
Series
- Part 6 of Voltron NSFW Bingo 2018
