Wicked
Bunny Colby, Jake Adams Pic(s)
The world narrowed to the single point where his palm met the small of her back, a warm, steady pressure that seemed to realign her very spine. A low, appreciative hum vibrated in his chest, a sound she felt more than heard, resonating deep within her own body as he drew her closer. The scent of his skin, clean linen and something uniquely male, filled her senses, erasing every other thought but the present moment. Her fingers traced the strong line of his shoulder, feeling the shift of powerful muscles beneath the fine fabric of his shirt, a landscape of latent strength. When his lips finally found the sensitive curve of her neck, it was not a conquest but a homecoming, a slow, deliberate kiss that sent shivers cascading down to her toes. Her head fell back in a gesture of pure surrender, a silent offering he accepted with a soft groan, his breath a hot caress agat her pulse. This was not about frantic passion, but a profound, settling calm, as if every piece of her fractured self was sliding perfectly into place. The rhythm of their breathing synchronized, a quiet tide ebbing and flowing in the intimate space between their bodies. In that suspended silence, there was no room for doubt, only the deep, unshakable certainty that this was exactly where she was always meant to be.
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