She sat very still, and his eyes rested on that ornament for a moment, and then travelled slowly to her wrist and the soft lines of her forearm. The flicker of an eyelash might betray his presence. “Great!” Cathy squealed. But you belong to me—and I want you. He grew more ardent, sliding her breasts out of the strapless bodice of her gown. "There, Sir," she added, unlocking the door, "you can go in. “May you have as much good fortune as you deserve, but not enough to make you forget us.
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