Chapter 123 123

ARIEL

The grappa burns my tongue when he kisses me. It’s not gentle—nothing about Sasha Ozerov ever has been—but I don’t want gentle. I want the bite of his teeth, the sting of his stubble.

If it doesn’t leave me sore tomorrow, I don’t want it.

He lifts me onto the bar with a growl. A bottle of l...

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