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Summary
You grant a piercing, disbelieving stare into his boney mask. “If you think you can lay claim to me, you’re sorely mistaken.”
The long, sharp talons of his gloves run up your sides, and you release a quick breath at the abrasive contact. It traces the curves of your hips and waist, the scraping firm enough to cause discomfort though not strong enough to break skin. “You’d be surprised by how easy it is for me to get what I want.”