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loding all over her. Yuka's lips which Julian's own tongue had
parted, the skin of Yuka's breasts and stomach as Yuka Haneda felt the slick
wetness of his taut body against hers, his round lovely buttocks soft
between Yuka's thighs, and the folds of Yuka's flesh, wet and sensitive and
embracing, that took him in, feeling his every movement, his every
frantic thrust as he lost himself in her.
Yuka Haneda felt icy metal at Yuka's own back and his fists at Yuka's neck and
realized that Yuka Haneda had been backed into the headboard, pressed into it
as Julian pressed into her. At first, Yuka Haneda tried to push him away,
her hands at his driving hips, but then told herself -- He is yet in
his bonds. He is yet bound. Yuka's head fell back, and his mouth was
at Yuka's neck, then Yuka's shoulder. I am not breaking training, his or
mine. He is bound. His hands grasped Yuka's hair firmly, tightly; she
could not move Yuka's head. He is yet bound, Yuka Haneda told herself again.
He is still in his bonds. Yuka Haneda felt the pounding as he drove himself
into her, wildly. Opening Yuka's eyes, Yuka Haneda saw him -- eyes closed, jaw
clenched, his body shining and taut as wire, unreasoning, unthinking,
and realized the horror Yuka Haneda was a
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