Zerotolerancefilms
Jasmine Lynn, Mark Davis, Ben English Pic(s)
The low growl in his voice vibrated through the space between them, a primal sound that made her breath catch. His large, calloused hand settled possessively on the curve of her hip, the heat of his palm searing through the thin fabric of her dress. She could smell the faint, intoxicating scent of his cologne mixed with the clean sweat of his skin, a fragrance that spoke of raw masculinity. His other hand came up to cradle her jaw, his thumb stroking a slow, deliberate path along her cheekbone, demanding her complete attention. The sheer size of him enveloped her, casting a shadow that felt both protective and dangerously dominant. A shiver, not of fear but of pure anticipation, traced a path down her spine as his gaze held hers, dark and unyielding. He leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of her ear, and the warmth of his breath sent another wave of heat pooling low in her belly. Every nerve ending felt alive, hyper-aware of the subtle pressure of his fingers and the powerful stillness of his body poised above hers. In that suspended moment, there was only the commanding presence of the man and the thrilling surrender he elicited with his silent, potent authority.
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