21Naturals
Ginebra Bellucci, Toby Pic(s)
The first tentative touch of his fingers agat the small of her back sent a shiver that had nothing to do with the cool night air whispering through the open window. It was a spark, a silent question asked agat the bare skin just above the waistband of her silk shorts, and her answering arch was a language all its own. The scent of rain-soaked earth and the faint, clean smell of his soap mingled in the intimate space between their bodies as he turned her to face him. His gaze was heavy, a tangible weight that traced the line of her jaw before dropping to her parted lips, which were still tasting of the dark wine they had shared. When his mouth finally met hers, it was not a conquest but a slow, deep exploration, a tasting that promised a story yet to be told. Her hands found the solid warmth of his shoulders, her nails lightly scraping the cotton of his shirt as she pulled him closer, eliminating the last sliver of distance. A low sound, half sigh and half moan, escaped her throat, swallowed by the deepening kiss that made the world outside the window dissolve into ignificance. Every nerve ending felt alive, hyper-aware of the rough texture of his denim-clad thigh pressing between her own, a firm pressure that hinted at a gathering storm of need. In that suspended moment, as his hand slid from her back to cradle the nape of her neck, there was only the shared heat, the frantic beat of two hearts syncing, and the profound, exhilarating certainty of a new beginning written on the skin.
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