’ At that, a flush drenched her cheeks and she snatched her hand away. Part 8 And as she sat on her bed that night, musing and half-undressed, she began to run one hand down her arm and scrutinize the soft flow of muscle under her skin. ” “Your knowledge of our ways,” he murmured “is profound. She had imagined that prisons were white-tiled places, reeking of lime-wash and immaculately sanitary.
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