You were content, and I came to thrive on your happiness. Lucy complied, slipping the tight jeans over her white underwear. Her cheeks were the colour of chalk, her eyes were filled with terror. But it was the form of her ruling determination; it was the only form that she ever allowed to see daylight. Here was a thundering blow. An acute sense of living was in her veins, even the taste of her wine seemed magical. .
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