Chapter 3: Dedication

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For the ones who crave a touch that lingers…

A grip firm enough to ground you, yet gentle enough to remind you—you’re safe.

For the ones who flinch before they lean in,

who bite their lip, torn between fear and want.

For those who have tasted fire,

who know what it means to burn—

not just in passion, but from wounds that never truly faded.

For the strong ones who don’t need saving,

but still want to be held the right way.

For the one who wants him to smell like a Greenforest,

whose presence lingers long after he's gone,

whose hands don’t just touch, but memorize,

learning every shiver, every gasp, every plea.

For the slow burn, the teasing glances,

the way he holds you just a little too close,

until your breath hitches, until your body betrays you.

For the way you push him away with trembling fingers,

only to pull him back with hungry eyes.

This is for you—

for the ones who crave love with heat,

a touch that doesn’t just explore, but worships,

a man who doesn’t just take, but makes you beg to be his.

And when you’re ready,

he won’t just touch you.

He’ll ruin you.

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