Evilangel
Kianna Dior, Jonni Darkko Pic(s)
The room was bathed in the soft, golden glow of twilight, casting long shadows that danced across her form as she moved with a languid grace. Her breath hitched, a soft sigh escaping her lips as her fingers traced the curve of her hip, skin like warm silk beneath her touch. The air grew thick with the scent of jasmine and her own rising desire, a heady perfume that made her head spin. She arched her back, a slow, deliberate motion that emphasized the generous swell of her chest, the weight a familiar and comforting presence. A flush crept up her neck, painting her skin a delicate pink as anticipation coiled tight in her belly. Her eyes fluttered closed, lost in the building sensation, a low moan vibrating in her throat as she surrendered to the feeling. Every nerve ending seemed to awaken, singing with electricity as the pleasure built, wave upon wave, each more intense than the last. The world narrowed to this single point of exquisite tension, a crescendo of feeling that left her trembling and breathless. Finally, release washed over her in a shuddering, powerful rush, leaving her boneless and sated, a satisfied smile playing on her lips.
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