There was a pause. A tiny, indistinct hiccup of silence weighed down and made monstrous by the sheer volume of her insecurity. She stole a quick, furtive glance at him, her eyes at half-mast and her face burning with rushed blood. He made her ache. At this very moment, she could easily imagine herself fairly quivering with the need to press her hand between her legs, to bury her fingers in herself, to dig out that small, hard ball of churning need clinging to her ovaries.
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