Today's romance novel exerpt comes from
The Midnight Ball:
He was her match, her mate. He held her to the last atom in his tender grasp. His skin was on fire. His tongue dipped in, swirled, moved on. God. Prayer and plea, he heard the single word inside his head as he caught fire from her consuming surrender. He wanted nothing more than to sink in to her hot, moist depths, and stay until he became a part of her.
I think this means he wants to discuss the difference between instrumental and normative political theory with her - maybe over a cup of coffee?
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