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| [Perspicacity - by theholyinnocent] |
Of this Olivia was certain: Many a fine thing lay in Dana’s mind, a marvelous latticework of fact, memory, science, the literary and the fantastic, of an understanding so perfectly honed it rivaled her scalpel for its sharp beauty.
And all of it lay beneath Olivia’s fingertips—carefully treading Dana’s cheekbone, venerating her vulnerable, milky blue temple, brushing against the softness of her brow.
Noble desires aside, Olivia could not disentangle herself from the delicate smashup of their bodies. Her hips moved again.
“You want to forget her,” Dana said. Her clever hands rounded the curve of Olivia’s ass, a delicious distraction against painful truth.
The pursuit of pleasure lay clamped between Olivia’s gritted teeth. “Yes.”
“But you can’t.”
“Trust me. I’m trying.”
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