21Sextury
Megane Lopez, Raul Costa Pic(s)
The world dissolved into the percussive thrum that pulsed up through the floorboards, a deep vibration that traveled through the soles of her feet and settled low in her belly. His hands found the gentle curve of her hips, his touch a warm anchor as their bodies began to sway, a slow, deliberate undulation that was an answer to the music’s call. With each shared breath, the space between them evaporated, until the only thing separating their skin was the thin, damp film of anticipation. Her head fell back, a silent offering as his lips traced a searing path along the column of her throat, tasting the salt of her exertion. The steady, primal beat became the conductor of their movement, guiding the slow, grinding roll of her pelvis agat his, a friction that promised imminent combustion. A low groan rumbled in his chest, a sound felt more than heard, harmonizing perfectly with the soft, breathy sigh that escaped her parted lips. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, demanding more as the tempo built, each wave of sound pushing them further from the shore of reason. The air grew thick with the scent of their mingled heat, a heady perfume of desire that made every nerve ending sing with electric awareness. They were no longer two separate entities but a single, fluid motion, cresting on a wave of sensation that was about to break.
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