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Thirty-Three

“I don’t like it when you’re hurt.” He confessed, grimacing apologetically. “It pains me.”

I smiled. “Delight shouldn’t pain you.”

He was confused, “Delight?”

“When you touch me it’s wonderful.”

“Oh.”

“You don’t like touching me?” I sounded so damn pathetic it was humiliating.

“No.”

I frowned but ...

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