21Sextreme
Mina K, Carlos Pic(s)
The air itself felt heavy, a velvet cloak of anticipation that clung to the skin. In the profound quiet, the only sound was the soft rustle of silk sliding from a shoulder, a whisper of surrender agat the profound stillness. His gaze was a physical touch, a slow, deliberate exploration that traced the elegant curve of her spine, leaving a phantom heat in its wake. Her own breath hitched as his palm, warm and broad, finally made contact with the small of her back, a claiming anchor in the liquid darkness. A low murmur escaped his lips, a vibration that traveled through her bones more than her ears, a promise of what was to come. She arched into him, a seamless movement of consent, her head falling back to expose the vulnerable column of her throat. His mouth found that offered pulse point, not with haste, but with a languid, worshipful pressure that made her fingers curl into the sheets. The world narrowed to this single point of contact, a universe contained within the shared warmth of their bodies, a silent, escalating rhythm. This was the beginning of a deep, unspoken fantasy, a journey into sensation where every touch was a new discovery and every sigh a forgotten language.
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