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“I want you, Els,” he whispered

She followed him into the back of the truck

The quilts were already spread out Elsa sht came from the scythed moon

Rafe lay down beside her

She felt his body along hers, heard his breathing

“Did you think about me?” he asked

“Yes”

“Me, too About you, Iher bodice

Fire where he touched her An unraveling She couldn’t still herself, couldn’t hide it

He pushed her dress up and pulled her blooht air on her skin All of it aroused her, the air on her skin, her own nakedness, the way he was breathing

She longed to touch him, taste him, tell him where she wanted—needed—to be touched, but fear of hu she said was bound to be wrong, unladylike, and she wanted so much to make him happy

Before she was ready, he was inside of her, thrusting hard, groaning Seconds later, he collapsed on top of her, shuddering, breathing quickly

He whispered soible into her ear She hoped it was romantic

Elsa touched the stubble of beard along his jaw Her touch was so soft and tenuous that she didn’t think he felt it

“I will miss you, Els,” he said