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Summary
Ravyn pointed the remote at the projector.
Click.
The carpet rubs against her raw knees for the hundredth time. Matt’s fingers grip in her hair treads the line of pain and pleasure. She can hardly breathe with him this deep in her throat—
“Well, that sounds like good news to me,” Marketing said. “Where do we start?”
A bead of sweat escaped Ravyn’s temple and trickled down her cheek. Matt’s brilliant idea to ‘train’ her was recent, and she’d never imagined that she would hear the same noise at work.