21Sextury
Rebecca Volpetti, Toby Pic(s)
The air itself seemed to hum with a latent energy, thick with the scent of warm skin and anticipation. His gaze was a physical weight upon her, tracing the delicate line of her collarbone down to the gentle swell of her breast. A single finger, calloused yet infinitely gentle, followed the same path, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. She arched into his touch, a silent plea escaping her parted lips as his palm finally cupped her fullness. The world narrowed to the space between their bodies, the rustle of fabric a distant memory as clothing surrendered to desire. Every breath was a shared rhythm, a syncopated beat agat the quiet of the room. His mouth found the sensitive curve of her neck, his tongue a slow, wet brand that made her fingers clutch at his shoulders. The low groan that rumbled from his chest vibrated through her, a primal sound that promised exquisite surrender. In that suspended moment, there was only the heat, the pressure, the building, undeniable tide of need pulling them under.
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