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Summary
Chan pressed harder, tongue flicking relentlessly while his fingers pumped in a slow, filthy rhythm. Minho’s belly quivered above him, the skin tight and warm under Chan’s other palm. He just couldn’t stop touching it - rubbing circles over the firm curve, feeling the faintest flutters of movement beneath.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
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Ever since he got his mate pregnant, Chan can’t stop obsessing over Minho’s cute belly and what it all means.
