21Sextury
Shalina Devine, Kristof Cale Pic(s)
The air itself seemed to thicken, charged with the sweet, musky scent of anticipation as his gaze traveled the slow, deliberate path down the curve of her spine. His fingers, warm and knowing, finally made contact, not as a demand but as a question whispered agat her skin, a silent language understood only by their two bodies. A shiver, delicate as a spiderweb catching the dawn light, rippled through her in response, her head tilting back to expose the vulnerable column of her throat. The only sound was the soft rustle of cotton sliding over silk as he eased the fabric from her shoulders, each inch revealed a new territory to be mapped by touch. Her breath hitched, catching in her chest as his palm flattened agat her stomach, pulling her back into the solid heat of him, a perfect puzzle piece finding its home. She could feel the steady, strong drum of his heart agat her shoulder blades, a rhythm that began to sync with her own quickening pulse. A low, appreciative murmur vibrated from his chest into hers, a sound of pure, unadulterated pleasure at the simple fact of this closeness. Her own hands came up to cover his, her fingers lacing with his, pressing them more firmly into her flesh, a wordless plea for more, for everything. In that suspended moment, every second of the longing that had brought them here melted away, proving that some pleasures are indeed perfected by the time it takes to earn them.
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