The Devil Duke and Miss. Granger

Chapter VII- The Bed of Roses

Astoria was surprisingly compliant, even agreeing with Hermione - much to her annoyance - that she looked tired and ought to rest. Perhaps the late nights had been too much excitement for a woman of Hermione's advanced years.

She just smiled, nodded her head and agreed but it required a great deal of Hermione's considerable reserves of patience not to box the younger girl's ears when she started talking about the bags under Hermione's eyes.

"And furthermore, I also believe you should avoid rich foods. You must think of your complexion if nothing else! After all, 'tis a well-known fact that women fast approaching their third decade are in danger of having sagging and sallow skin." Astoria nodded her blonde head regally, adjusting the folds of her seafoam green walking dress as she sat, like a queen on Hermione's only chair.

"Yes, thank you, dearest." replied Hermione through grit teeth, her fingers itching to wrap around her younger cousin's neck, "My, would you look at the time! 'Twould be for the best if you took your leave now, I know you have to visit the modiste today to prepare your gown for the Earl of Huffel's ball."

"Oh yes! I should! Oh, I hope you feel better soon, dear cousin for it won't be the same without you tonight!" unexpectedly Astoria reached out and clasped Hermione's arms in a tight hold and hugged her, "You're a rather terrible chaperone to be perfectly honest though."

"Is that why you'll miss me?" Hermione said suspiciously as she patted the tall girl's head gently.

"Maybe a little." Astoria giggled, "After all, I doubt Mother would let me sneak out to the gardens for a kiss with Malcolm."

"Tori!" Hermione drew back, concerned.

"I know what you're thinking but do not fret! He has promised to speak to Papa in the coming week and besides we haven't done anything other than kiss. I believe he would ask permission to court me." she said shyly.

"I know dearest, but you know that a hint of scandal and it could all be over for you. Remember, in a situation like this Society never judges the man guilty of any sin, they can go on to marry again, have children, live their lives free of gossip and notoriety. But a woman's sins are stitched to her very soul in an indelible mark that we must carry for eternity. 'Tis grossly unfair but that is how it is."

"I know you're worried Hermione but we're in love." said Astoria dreamily, "Malcolm and I are soulmates, meant to be together... we are the perfect completion of each other's souls."

"Perhaps it isn't wise for me to stay home." Hermione said worriedly, "Tori darling you must not do anything silly, I understand that you think you're in love, but you can never..."

"I would stop you right there cousin, I know you mean well but I have faith in the Marquees," Astoria said, seeming to be unwilling to discuss the topic further.

"Astoria..."

"Now then! Would you look at the time." said Astoria in a bright voice, cutting off Hermione, "It's about time we set off for the modiste, I hope you feel better soon, dear!"

As she swept out of the room in a flurry of skirts Hermione sat down heavily on her bed, letting her head drop into her hands.

While she didn't have much of a moral standing to lecture Astoria about kissing her Marquees. Since she had certainly done more in an evening with her Duke. However the difference was Hermione certainly wasn't expecting to marry the Duke!

If caught Astoria could be in serious trouble and as much as Hermione wished to believe in good intentions it wasn't like there wasn't a grain of truth regarding the fate of unmarried, ruined misses. 'Twas rare for the man to offer for the woman after ruining her, obviously such matches could be forced but that required power, political or otherwise and money.

Hermione doubted her intervention would be welcome any which way but the least she could do was look into the Marquees. Astoria was at that age where she believed she was invincible, and she would not welcome advice or help. Not especially from a woman who she believed could not understand what she was feeling for the young Marquees.

For Astoria being nearly thirty was akin to being dead Hermione thought with a wry smile.

But Hermione would do what she could and try and keep her young cousin safe.

Lady Sinistra's saloon was a hive of information. Hermione had already begged off tonight so there was nothing she could do but she would have to keep an eagle eye on Astoria for the rest of the week until she could find out some more information about the handsome young Marquees.

Like Daphne before her, Astoria had had to fend off her own share of fortune hunters, all keen on getting their hands on the handsomely sized dowries. And aristocrats, particularly ones who had a penchant for hazard tables or brothels, are likely to spend their wives' incomes. They might be hard to spot in Polite Society, however gossip about them was always there to be heard in Kensington.

Lady Sinistra knew all about the unfortunate habits of the haute ton, she was famous for hosting parties that often catered to the demimonde so if there was any information to be had 'twas she who could provide it. After all her information had to be sound, it came from the lips of mistresses, opera singers, actresses and gambling hell owners.

Hermione would seek a private audience with the lady during the next saloon and put forth her questions. had no desire to see Astoria ruined by the careless affections of some green lad or used and abused, married for her money and then stripped of it completely. 'Twas better to be safe rather than sorry, if it turned out that the young man was indeed sincere it would be no harm done.

...

By the time the night came, Hermione's stomach was a mix of knots and butterflies. Worry for Astoria and a mix of trepidation and excitement about her midnight plans made it hard for her to get anything besides soup past her lips during dinner.

Of course she was being a hypocrite by going to this rendezvous after she had just cautioned Astoria against something like this, but Hermione knew that an opportunity like this rarely fell into the lap of a bookish spinster and she would be doing herself a disservice if... for once in her damned life she didn't live a little.

Astoria had been gone for hours now and wouldn't return with her parents until the very early morning, they had a full evening of activities planned from a trip to Haymarket to a ball hosted by the Lady Pinkerton, a society lioness whose approval was sought by most of the young debutantes entering the marriage mart.

Astoria had been flawlessly attired from head to toe in a soft China silk that shimmered like a pearl against her creamy skin, it had small pleated flowers with crystal centres all down the skirt, a low scooped neckline and short capped sleeves. With Tori's exquisite hair twisted upwards and decorated simply with two plain white roses, Hermione knew that her cousin would no doubt be the centre of attention at the ball. It helps considerably that the diamonds glittering at her throat and ears would also be a cause of much sensation, Hermione had no doubt that tomorrow every fashionable household would have the name 'Greengrass' on their lips.

She was sure Astoria's considerable list of admirers was about to balloon exponentially. A prospect that both amused and worried her.

If the young Marquees was serious about courting the Diamond of the First Water of the season, there was no doubt that after today's ball he would have to get in line. Her cousin's beauty tended to make men forget that she was the daughter of a mere Baron, a prospect that Hermione's aunt no doubt relished.

After all her Aunty Cressida had managed the launch of her older daughter, Hermione's dear cousin and friend Daphne into fine Society with the military precision of Wellington.

It helped that the Earl of Davenham, Theodore Nott, had been hopelessly in love with Daphne since the moment he had seen her.

Since Daphne was shy and rather introverted by nature, she dreaded being 'dragged around like a prize hog at the village fair' from ball to ball during her Season.

Daphne and the Earl had married when Daphne was quite old, she had been in her last season and rather happy to not have a season the next year on her four and twentieth birthday. Nott had just returned from France where he had been on confidential duty for the War Office, off doing something mysterious.

It was only five years ago when they met and argued during the first ball of the Season and Daphne had vowed he was the rudest man she had ever met and that she was glad she was going to be a spinster. Yet they were married by the end of the Season.

Hermione had hated losing her best friend and closest confidant but even she could see that Theo adored his wife and treated her like a queen. In a time when most marriages, particularly those in the peerage were based on money, property and power, Theo and Daphne were lucky to have found such profound love.

They were yet to be blessed with children, something that greatly distressed Daphne. Her cousin was prone to bouts of severe melancholic anxiety where her fears would cause her near-paralysis. She often worried about not being able to provide her husband with an heir, but Theo loved his wife. In fact, he was the only man Hermione knew of who had found out his wife attended the Kensington society and not barred or beaten her.

Hermione greatly admired the Earl and felt his steady, down to earth yet hearty presence was the perfect foil for the beautiful yet shy Daphne.

Was that the sound of Hannah leaving Astoria's bedroom after turning down her sheets?

Hermione looked over at the small clock in her bedroom, forty-five past eleven...

Only fifteen more minutes.

Turning down the sheets in Tori's bedroom was one of the last tasks of the maids, she was sure that the rest of the household staff had retired already.

She had debated what she would wear to meet him ever since she had received that note. 'Twould be most logical to remain in her nightgown, it would cut down on the time and effort required into changing and she could also rapidly get into her bed in case one of the servants woke too soon but having the Duke look at her in her nightgown sent a shiver down Hermione's back.

Or she could wear a plain jersey frock, it had no stays, and she could dress without assistance, it would also be the most proper... however were she caught, she'd have to explain what she was doing in the gardens during the night fully dressed when she claimed to be sick and then there were her men's clothes, an idea she dismissed out of hand since that would be far too risky.

Ten minutes to go now...

Hermione nibbled her lower lip as she surveyed her limited wardrobe. What did one wear for a midnight rendezvous with a Duke?!

Hermione hadn't the foggiest.

Five minutes now...

It would take her that much time to sneak out, seems like the decision had been made for her.

Nightgown it was and she would be wearing her wrapper. 'Twas all perfectly above board she assured herself, knowing 'twas a pure lie she told.

...

Draco easily vaulted over the brick wall that divided the Greengrass residence from its neighbours and landed on his feet. Wincing softly when an old bullet wound in his leg protested the rough treatment.

He was early of course. Always stake out the target before striking, was a core military stratagem and one that Draco was going to apply in order to capture his elusive quarry.

The garden was rather large, but Draco had picked a good vantage point, 'twas a large oak with thick branches that kept him hidden... he was merely taking a leaf out of Hermione's book.

The thick branches would keep him hidden while allowing him to see everything going on in the gardens, especially anyone coming into the gardens. He hadn't told his little spy where to meet him, Draco preferred the element of surprise.

He wondered what she thought of this, would she even come to meet him?

Draco swore under his breath, he hadn't considered that fact at all!

But all his worries were for nought since only minutes later a robe-clad figure emerged from the darkened house.

Draco grinned; she was without a cap. Her hair was in two braids down her back; she looked around carefully and continued deeper into the garden, occasionally glancing back to make sure no one was watching her.

Draco didn't wait for her to reach him, for he was sure she wouldn't know where he was. Suddenly he was much too warm; he had never been this bold before.

Normally, Draco's machinations and schemes, a trait passed down to every Malfoy, were reserved for battle strategy or finding a creative way to unlock a cypher. This was the first time he had used his unusual circumstances of being both a powerful Duke and a spy in such a frivolous way.

He frowned; he didn't wish to abuse his position too much. After all, he had no intention of putting her directly in the line of fire of spywork; she could assist him in asking questions. 'Twas a task that would make her feel involved and allow him time to make his case to her. But he had no desire to deceive her.

Draco had a sense of premonition at that moment, as he drew closer to where Hermione was. Despite his best intentions, he knew that things had a way of going south, especially when one was involved with a woman as headstrong as Hermione. He had to make sure that she didn't get into any trouble playing this game he had designed.

He was excellent at planning stratagems, and at the end of this he had two goals. To make Hermione his Duchess and capture the spy hidden within London's high society.

Draco's plans generally went his way but there were always exceptions.

...

Hermione frowned; the dratted note hadn't mentioned where to meet in the garden. Thank God it was a full moon and quite bright. She felt quite secure now that she was a reasonable distance away from the main house, it would be unlikely for any of the servants to wander this far into the garden, and the gardener's cottage was beyond the grove of willow trees. Older, thicker trees like oak and yew lined the property giving it slightly more privacy.

'Twas a vast house and garden, one that displayed Baron Greengrass's wealth to its best advantage.

All thoughts of Hermione's uncle's wealth fled her mind when out of the low night mist emerged a tall figure clad in a dark coat.

It was him! She felt a wild flutter in her belly, knowing with sinking dread that despite the practicality of it all, wearing a nightgown with a robe had not been her best idea.

Hermione had thought the night quite chilly, yet suddenly she was unreasonably warm.

"Hello, Miss Granger."

Lord... he was handsome, Hermione watched as Draco removed his black coat and draped it over a low hanging willow branch.

Her mouth went suddenly dry. He wore a simple yet exquisitely cut and stitched waistcoat, a plain white shirt, and black breeches under the coat. Hermione was unused to seeing the top of a gentleman's throat exposed. He had untied his neckcloth which now hung around his collar, allowing Hermione a glimpse of wiry golden hair peeking out. Was his whole chest covered in golden hair, she wondered.

She bit the inside of her cheek. Would it be rude to greet him by running her hand on his chest?

Draco turned to her, grinning suddenly as if sensing her thoughts.

"Come closer." He coaxed in his deep baritone, "I have something I wish to discuss with you and cannot do so with you standing so far away from me."

"This is indecent, your Grace." she whispered hesitantly, inching slightly closer, "How did you even get someone to take the note?"

"I paid an urchin to knock on your door and give that note to the butler." He grinned wickedly, "Don't you wish to hear what I have to ask you? I have a proposition for you."

"Your Grace, not meaning to offend but whenever a man in your position says that to a woman of my position, the outcome tends to favour the man." She replied cautiously.

...

Draco wanted to reach out and grab her. Gods above, she looked appealing. Her awful gowns in their dull blues and browns needed to be burned and that hideous cap too, for they had done her a grave injustice.

They hid a mysterious forest dryad within them. She looked at home in the misty garden and, suddenly Draco was Adam and his dark-eyed Eve stood, eyeing him with trepidation and excitement.

She looked adorable with her long braids, robe, which hid little of her shape. She was as sweetly curved as he had imagined, and he had indeed imagined.

Imagined every night since they had met, how her breasts would taste? Imagined her body's scent after making love... the sweet nectar of her womanhood-Lord, how he had imagined.

Why the hell didn't he just put her in the Ducal carriage and make his way to Gretna Green?

"You're beautiful," he couldn't help but say gruffly, "Why do you usually hide behind those ugly clothes?"

"I'm not hiding!" she replied, bitingly sarcastic, "I'm not sure you understand, but those are the appropriate garments to be worn as a companion."

"But your uncle is rich." said Draco, confused, "Surely he can afford to attire you better."

"I'm sorry, Your Grace. I didn't realise you had invited me out into the freezing garden with a mysterious note to critique my fashion choices." She said coldly.

"No damn it! You know that's not what I meant." He swore stepping closer to her, "Damnation, I never seem to be able to say the right thing in front of you."

"So why don't you just say what you have come here to say, Your Grace?" she replied, looking away from him, her lips turned down in a frown.

"Stop." He whispered, reaching out and pulling her closer. Ignoring her indignant gasp. "You know that wasn't what I meant."

"Yes, what you think should happen and what does happen in the real world are two very different things. My aunt believes as the Baron's wife, his wealth belongs to his family and daughters. They're doing me a favour by letting me stay at all."

"Yes, but you're his family too."

"This topic is pointless, Your Grace and you must let me go."

"No, I don't think I shall." He was frowning like he wished to discuss her financial circumstances longer.

"Why have you come here?" she demanded, "And moreover, what do you want from me?"

"I don't think you are ready for what I want, my dear but for now 'tis regarding your employment opportunity with my cousin Miss. Lovegood."

Her annoyance and anger at the Duke for prodding a sensitive subject instantly vanished,and she nearly danced in place within his arms' reach.

"Your cousin has agreed?!" she asked, delighted.

"She has, pending meeting you. She will call for tea with your aunt and uncle someday soon and upon meeting you decide if you will be a good fit as her secretary."

Hermione let out a loud laugh before clasping her hand on her mouth guiltily.

"Oh it'll be glorious! Finally meeting the famous Miss. Lovegood, I can hardly warrant it!" Forgetting herself for a moment, she threw her arms around the Duke in thanks, standing on the tips of her toes to whisper her thanks in his ear.

...

Draco felt her soft breasts press against his chest as she hugged him.

Fuck! He hadn't been this close to a loss of control since he was a green lad. She felt like heaven in his arms, he wished to sink into her softness, into her warm clove-scented embrace and never leave.

He allowed himself to touch her hair, something he had been dying to do since seeing it exposed the first night they had met. He twined his fingers through the rich sable fur, tugging lightly to turn her face up to his.

"Luna isn't the only thing I've come to ask you about, Hermione."

"Yes, Your Grace?" her tone was cautious again.

"Do you know what I did during the war?"

Hermione looked startled at the sudden turn of the conversation.

"I believe you were a soldier, weren't you?"

"And a spy."

"A spy!?" she gasped, springing from his hold, "How terribly exciting!"

"Why is it that I expected this exact reaction." He said with a wry smile. "I need someone like you, my dear. Someone bold, daring, with access to the ton and who better than a lady who does not hesitate to don men's clothing and waltz about London."

"But how..." she stammered, "How would you solicit my help, we don't move in the same circles or have anything in common and moreover what kind of help would it be?"

"That is why I came to tell you that it is doubly important that you impress Luna when she arrives to ask the favour."

"But why me?" she whispered.

"Besides all the reasons I just stated?" He said exasperated, "You crave adventure don't you, Hermione?" His voice had turned silky, prompting Hermione to turn back to face him, "I can give you an adventure you'll never forget. Something that would be in both of our favours."

"And what do you want in return? An affair? I would be willing to consider having an affair with you, Your Grace. If you were discreet of course." she threw out boldly.

Draco laughed at the chit's audacity, gods above she made him feel alive!

"An affair?" he said, pretending to consider the matter. Drawing a frown from his lovely Hermione.

"Well, you have kissed me multiple times whenever we have encountered each other. 'Twas a logical conclusion to draw."

...

Hermione could barely breathe. What had she been thinking, throwing that bold statement out without a second thought?!

He was likely going to laugh at her, and that's why she was so surprised when he drew her closer once again. Except for this time his grip wasn't soft, 'twas like a vice.

"I want so much more than an affair with you, Hermione Granger." He said darkly before pressing his lips against hers.

Hermione gasped at the shock of feeling his firm lips against her own before throwing her arms around his neck. Now that they were kissing, she was willing to admit she had been waiting for this.

What was it about this man who made her forget all sense of propriety? She felt like a prisoner, for her own want of him was so great. He had been her fascination for so long, she had followed each story written about him in the scandal sheets with an intense focus that had terrified her. In person, he was even more magnificent than all his exploits made him out to be.

She didn't want to want him, her ideas of independence fled when he held her, making her feel like a fraud, a liar, a fake… like her saloons and her men's clothing were all a sham, a performance of progress.

He stripped all thoughts of Miss. Lovegood, spying, horrid novels and her family from her mind with such ease, so skillfully. Hermione almost resented him and his hold over her senses. No other man had enthralled her thus.

But soon his touch distracted her. The pleasure of Draco's firm and masterful grip made her feel warm and restless. She pressed closer to him. Sinking deeper into his embrace, the clamouring voice of her mind silenced under his sweet-drugging kisses.

His tongue gently nudged her lips, asking her to grant him access to the honeyed depths within. Hermione was only glad to do so.

His warm and large hands wandered her back, clasping her by her buttocks and lifting her against him. Hermione gasped as she felt the hard heat of his manhood against the softness of her belly. They fit together like pieces of a puzzle. She could feel every hard and hot part of his body that made him a man, pressing, moulding... holding her own and she wished she was under him.

He was so strong, magnificently strong, wonderfully warm and tensile. She felt herself grow wet in that dark secret place between her legs.

Restlessly she moved against him, arching her back to bring herself closer.

"Patience, sweetheart." He growled, removing his lips from hers, leaving her dazed. His wet mouth drew kisses under her chin, along her downy cheek... light, butterfly soft kisses that pressed against the sensitive skin of her neck and her throat.

She felt like her pulse was getting ready to flee her body, it was thumping so wildly.

Draco let her down but held her close, urging her towards the grove of trees. They would be hidden there, Hermione followed mutely her gaze riveted on the Duke's muscular back.

...

I shouldn't be doing this, but Draco couldn't help himself. His dark-eyed dryad responded to his lovemaking with such intoxicating abandon. He simply had to kiss her again. 'Twas that or go insane.

He would not stoop as low as to taking her outside in a garden for their first time, but his need for her was great. He sat against a willow with a thick trunk and urged Hermione into his lap, she followed silently... her large brown eyes limpid with desire.

"For someone who says he doesn't want an affair, you do seem to kiss me a lot." she teased gently, running one small hand over the opening of his shirt, "I wish to see your magnificent chest, may I unbutton your shirt?"

Draco caught her small hand in his own before grinning, "I think you should leave the horror that is my body alone for now, for I don't wish to scare you."

"You couldn't scare me," she whispered.

"Leave it be love. I'm riddled with scars... not remotely as beautiful as you and on a beautiful night like this I think we should look at beautiful things."

He wrestled with her gently, stripping her flannel robe to her waist. She giggled shyly but did nothing to hide from him.

Draco sucked in a breath, he could see the outline of her dark areolas against the soft nightgown, and under his heated gaze, they puckered, demanding his attention.

To his utter delight, it was she who undid the straps that held the garment together at the shoulders, allowing the nightgown to fall to her waist as well.

"I take it you like what you see?" she said, a crest of pink across her cheeks, letting him know of her embarrassment despite her bold actions.

"You are beautiful, like a mysterious forest spirit here to lure me into depravity."

"If you are depraved my lord, I assure you it has nothing to do with me." She replied in a prim voice like his hands weren't caressing the round globes of her breasts.

"Hush now." He said, "I must concentrate, or I fear these beauties would feel offended that I am ignoring them."

Hermione was about to open her mouth to give him a smart reply when his warm mouth descended upon her nipple, she moaned softly at the sensation and felt his laughter and his gentle fingers cover her mouth to prevent her from making any more noise.

The suckling motion, along with his large hands caging her in made her move against him with such wild and intense pleasure... Gods, he could carry her away now. Keep her with him forever; if only he didn't know how she would hate him for making that choice for her.

Draco was rock hard, his cock was straining against the placket of his breeches, and his beautiful dryad's anxious little movements did nothing to help. He could feel the pulse of her quim against the muscles of his thighs. He knew he wouldn't have to do much to urge her legs to open, to be able to slide his large hand under the skirt of her gown, up her silky leg… to the wetness he would find at her centre.

But she was a lady, and despite his hard cock he was a gentleman. One who wished to marry her and so if she wasn't going to show restraint, he would have to.

He knew he had gone too far, but the beautiful and utterly alluring offer of her sweet pink-tipped breasts was too much for even a saint to resist, and Draco was no saint.

Reluctantly, he pressed kisses to both breasts, leaving them to look into Hermione's pleasure-dazed eyes. He couldn't help but press another kiss onto her swollen lips before tying up the straps of her nightgown.

"I'm afraid this might have gone a little too far tonight, my dear." He said roughly, his own voice raspy with unfulfilled desire. He helped her tie her robe since Hermione's fingers were shaking too much to be of any use, "You look like you've been seduced in the bushes." He said with a wicked grin.

"But that's exactly what happened." She protested with a cheeky smile. Allowing him to help her stand and dust her nightgown.

"You will consider what I have asked of you?" he said gravely.

"Helping you with your er... activities?" she said

"Yes."

"'Twould be a grand adventure indeed, your Grace." She said dreamily, "But I must know more of what it involves before I agree to anything."

"And I shall tell you more, but I cannot help you with Luna. If you fail to impress her during her visit, all of this would be for nought."

Hermione nodded thoughtfully, "I understand."

"And as for the discussion of our affair." He said, pulling her close again, "You and I are going to come to an understanding soon, my dear."

...

Confused, dazed and still aroused Hermione bid Draco farewell. Her heart was thundering, she had so many-many things to consider tonight and not least of all the shockingly yet fleeting pleasure she had beheld in the Duke's arms. Now she knew why so many women succumbed to the pleasure that could be had in an intimate embrace.

That... she knew, was something she wished to experience again.

...

Draco crept carefully towards the outer boundary of the Greengrass mansion. According to his pocket watch, he and Hermione had only been outside for a little over a half hour. He would watch her enter and see which room was hers, just to make sure nothing happened and then leave.

Thankfully a window on the third floor lit up, letting him know she was now safely inside. Draco put on his coat again before making it to the boundary wall that he had jumped over.

In the darkness, he felt his foot collide with something soft, like cloth right at the boundary wall. Reaching down, he picked up an old, ragged cap worn down till it was soft. This didn't belong to anyone who would be living or working in Mayfair. Draco was sure, for not only was the cloth cheap, but it reeked of sweat and stale alcohol.

Had someone been watching him and Hermione? Draco felt his heart leap in fear, mayhap it belonged to a gardener who had left it behind. But if that was the case, why had Draco not seen it earlier, the moon was full and the garden was flooded with enough light to have seen it.

It grated on Draco's sense of protectiveness that Hermione wasn't returning to a safe place with him.

He had to marry her quickly, he wasn't strong enough to stomach the idea of her in danger.

TBC


Beta- TheImperfectionista

A/N- Thank you so much to everyone enjoying The Devil Duke and Miss. Granger and those of you here to get your post Brigerton fix we welcome you with open arms! All historical romance is great in my opinion. As always this story wouldn't be half as good if I didn't have a wonderful beta, who's tends to fix all my fuck ups and boy do i fuck up! So thank you to the lovely Imperfectionista.

As always I hope you enjoy the story! Leave a review

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