21Sextury
Kylie Green, Kristof Cale Pic(s)
The heavy oak door clicked shut with a finality that sent a tremor through the quiet room, the sound absorbed by the thick carpet. He didn’t speak, his presence alone a palpable force that warmed the air between them, his gaze a slow, deliberate caress that started at the nape of her neck and traveled down the curve of her spine. The scent of his cologne, a dark blend of sandalwood and spice, wrapped around her, an intoxicating promise that made her breath catch. His fingers, when they finally brushed agat her shoulder, were surprisingly warm, tracing the line of her collarbone with a feather-light touch that belied their strength. A soft sigh escaped her lips as his other hand settled on her waist, pulling her back gently until she felt the solid strength of his body agat hers. The fine wool of his suit jacket was a rough contrast to the delicate silk of her blouse, a friction that whispered of the layers about to be shed. He leaned in, his lips finding the sensitive skin just below her ear, his breath a hot, moist promise agat her flesh. Every thought of the day’s work, the spreadsheets and deadlines, dissolved into the electric hum of anticipation coursing through her ve. In that suspended moment, the only reality was the slow, deliberate exploration of his hands and the shared, unspoken hunger that filled the silent office.
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