Evilangel
Candy Red, Rocco Siffredi Pic(s)
The room was bathed in a soft, golden glow, the air thick with the scent of warm skin and whispered promises. His hands moved with deliberate slowness, tracing the curve of her spine like a cartographer mapping uncharted territory, each touch sending shivers that rippled through her quiet sighs. She arched into his palm, a silent plea for more as his fingers learned the landscape of her hips, memorizing the gentle swell and the hidden hollows that begged for attention. A low murmur escaped his lips, a vibration agat her neck that stirred the fine hairs there and made her breath catch in her throat. The world narrowed to this single point of contact, the heat of his body a furnace that melted all resistance, leaving only a raw, aching need pulsing in time with her quickening heart. He guided her with an unspoken command, turning her just so, until the light caught the sheen of perspiration on her shoulders, glistening like liquid silk. Her own hands found purchase on his strong arms, nails lightly scoring the tense muscle as a wave of anticipation built deep within her core. Every sense was heightened, from the rough texture of the rug beneath her knees to the taste of salt and desire on her tongue when he finally claimed her mouth. In that suspended moment, nothing existed but the shared rhythm of their bodies, a primal dance as old as time, yet feeling entirely new.
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