Addicted2Girls
Sinn Sage, Ela Darling Pic(s)
The air itself felt thick, a warm syrup of bergamot and salt clinging to the skin. His fingers traced the delicate architecture of her spine, a slow, deliberate pilgrimage from the tense curve of her shoulders down to the gentle swell where her back surrendered to softer contours. Each vertebra was a smooth, warm pebble beneath his touch, a silent language of anticipation spoken through skin. A low sigh escaped her lips, not a sound but a vibration that hummed agat his chest, a resonance felt more than heard in the intimate space between them. The light from a single candle gilded the fine hairs on her arm, casting long, dancing shadows that merged and parted on the wall like silent spectators. He lowered his mouth to the sensitive hollow just behind her ear, his breath a hot, damp promise agat the delicate shell before his lips made contact. The taste of her skin was a complex melody of clean linen and something uniquely, essentially her, a flavor that made his head spin. Her own hands came up to tangle in his hair, not guiding but holding on, an anchor in the rising tide of sensation that threatened to pull them both under. In that suspended moment, the world narrowed to the map of her body and the slow, exploratory journey of his hands, a shared, breathless discovery in the quiet dark.
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