Zerotolerancefilms
Brianna Blaze, Kurt Lockwood Pic(s)
The room held its breath as his shadow fell across her, a dark promise that made the fine hairs on her arms rise in silent anticipation. His knuckles, rough and knowing, grazed the sensitive skin of her throat, a touch so light it was almost a memory, yet it sent a shiver straight to her core. She could smell the faint, clean scent of his soap mingled with the night air clinging to his jacket, an intoxicating aroma that made her head feel light. When his palm settled firmly on the small of her back, it was a claim of territory, pulling her agat the solid, unyielding wall of his chest. A low murmur vibrated from him into her very bones, a sound that was not a question but a command that bypassed all thought. Her lips parted in a silent gasp as his other hand tangled in her hair, tilting her head back to expose the frantic pulse beating at the base of her neck. The world narrowed to the space between their bodies, to the heat building where their hips met, a slow, deliberate pressure that promised a delicious friction. Every nerve ending was alight, singing a primal song of surrender as his thumb traced the line of her jaw with possessive certainty. In that suspended moment, she was utterly his, lost in the raw authority of his presence and the overwhelming need to yield completely.
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