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Maddening Men

If the fae folk were real, surely, she would be one of them. No one else enchants me like so, it is irksome.

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Warm engulfs me, but it isn't overbearing, adrenaline-rushing, or thought-consuming. It is welcome against the morning's chill. I snuggle closer to it, sighing in its embrace.

The bed shifts beneath me, the warm cushion on my backside squeezing as another grows against my stomach.

"Hmm." My brows pinch together. That doesn't seem right. I lower my hand and reach for the long pillow, tugging at it, pausing when it moves by itself. It bumps into my hand. It's too early for this.

Still, I cannot fathom what is in my hand and start to visualise while sliding my fingers along it. It's warm and soft, with some sort of fur at the bottom. A low groan snaps my eyes open, and my hand stills again.

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