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Summary
Walking over to stand at his desk, Dante took a deep breath. He needed a drink and a nap and a nice, cold shower.
“Perhaps I phrased that incorrectly,” Vergil said, his voice too close to Dante’s ear considering that Dante hadn’t even heard him move. The length of Vergil’s naked body pressed him into the desk, strong hands gripping the wood on either side of his hips. “You won. That means you proved yourself worthy of my...attention.”
