Nurumassage
Aidra Fox, Charles Dera Pic(s)
The air in the room grew thick and warm, charged with an unspoken anticipation that made the fine hairs on her arms stand at attention. He moved closer, the scent of his cologne, a mix of sandalwood and something uniquely his, wrapping around her like an invisible caress. His gaze was heavy-lidded, intense, tracing the delicate line of her collarbone before meeting her eyes with a look that promised a secret shared only between them. A large, calloused hand, surprisingly gentle, came to rest on the curve of her waist, the heat of his palm seeping through the thin fabric of her dress. She felt her breath catch as his thumb began a slow, deliberate rhythm agat her rib cage, a silent language that spoke of possession and reverence. He leaned in, his voice a low murmur that vibrated agat her ear, each word a deliberate stroke that coiled heat low in her belly. The world outside the window blurred into ignificance, the only reality the space where their bodies almost touched, a magnetic field pulling them inexorably together. She could feel the solid strength of his thigh pressed agat her own, a firm anchor in the rising tide of her desire. Closing her eyes, she surrendered to the sensation, a silent acceptance of the profound intimacy he was offering, a gift that was both thrilling and terrifying in its intensity.
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