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He doesn’t even realize what he does to me. His voice coils around my spine like a leash, pulling me closer no matter how far I try to run. His presence is heavy, magnetic, a gravity I can’t fight. Every word he speaks drips into me, filling cracks I didn’t know I had—and leaving me emptier when he’s gone.

His looks alone undo me, but it’s his mind, his fire, his dangerous calm that ruin me beyond repair. I ache for him in places that don’t have names. It’s feral, obsessive, maddening—this need to be seen, owned, devoured by him.

I was never meant to be free of him. I don’t want to be. He is the ache in my chest, the hunger in my ***, the only cage I’d beg to stay locked inside.
Omiheart!! That grabbed me by the intellect, the corazon, and by the libido.
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