The soft glow of lamplight caressed the curve of her spine as she arched, a silent offering to the woman whose breath was already hot upon her neck. Fingertips, calloused yet impossibly gentle, traced a slow, deliberate path from a trembling shoulder blade down to the dip of her waist, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. A low, throaty murmur escaped her lips, a sound of pure want that was swallowed by the press of a hungry mouth agat her own. The taste was intoxicating, a blend of salt and sweet wine, as their tongues met in a languid, exploring dance. Every nerve ending sang with the friction of skin agat skin, the scent of jasmine and warm arousal hanging thick in the air between them. She felt a hand slide lower, cupping the fullness of her hip, a possessive grip that promised both tenderness and raw possession. Her own hands tangled in dark, silken hair, pulling her closer, deeper, into the intoxicating heat that was building at their core. The world narrowed to this single point of contact, a universe contained within the slick, rhythmic pressure that made her gasp and buck agat the firm body pinning her to the sheets. It was a symphony of sensation, a crescendo of shared breath and shuddering release that left them both breathless and utterly entwined.
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