Ageandbeauty
Sally D’Angelo, Jake Adams Pic(s)
The warmth of his palm spread through the thin fabric of her dress, a slow, deliberate heat that seeped into her skin and made her breath catch. His fingers traced the delicate curve of her shoulder, a whisper of contact that sent a cascade of shivers down her spine. She could feel the steady, strong beat of his heart where his chest pressed agat her back, a rhythmic counterpoint to her own quickening pulse. The air grew thick with the scent of his skin, a clean, masculine fragrance mingled with the faint sweetness of night-blooming jasmine from the open window. Every nerve ending seemed to awaken, hyper-aware of the slight pressure of his thigh agat hers and the way his thumb gently stroked the sensitive hollow at the base of her throat. A soft sigh escaped her lips as he leaned in, his breath a warm, moist promise agat the shell of her ear. The world outside their quiet space dissolved into a distant hum, leaving only the profound intimacy of this shared moment. She felt herself melting into his embrace, all resistance fading under the patient, exploring caress of his hands. In that suspended silence, a profound connection bloomed, wordless and deep, as tangible as the very air they breathed.
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