#396565 - Try as he might he couldn’t inhale, yet he rose anyway as his harsh rasps filled the night air, Max staggered toward her. Lacey’s tongue twisted and turned, churning into the soft folds, each stroke taking Shawanda closer to the edge. He threw a hard, haymaker, right-handed hook, she caught it with her left wrist, deflecting it before her open left hand crashed to his neck.
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