Addicted2Girls
Yurizan Beltran, Jennifer Dark Pic(s)
The air between them thickened with the scent of warm skin and whispered promises, a palpable tension that made the very light seem to cling to their forms. His gaze was a slow, deliberate caress, tracing the delicate line of her collarbone before rising to meet her eyes, which had darkened with a hunger that mirrored his own. A single finger, feather-light, traced the curve of her jaw, a touch so tentative it was almost a question. In answer, she leaned into his palm, her own hand coming to rest upon his chest, feeling the frantic, answering rhythm beneath the fabric. The space between their lips diminished not with a rush, but with an agonizing, exquisite slowness, a shared breath mingling in the charged silence. When his mouth finally found hers, it was not a conquest but a discovery, a soft, searching exploration that tasted of wine and longing. A low sound, half sigh and half surrender, escaped her throat as her fingers tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer. Every point of contact—the press of his thigh agat hers, the solid warmth of his body—sent tiny, electric shivers across her nerve endings. In that suspended moment, all thought dissolved into pure, aching sensation, a complete and willing capitulation to the magnetic pull they could no longer, and no longer wished to, fight.
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