Evilangel
Candy Crush, Ed Junior Pic(s)
The air itself seemed to taste of spun sugar and a faint, illicit spice, clinging to the heated skin of the two figures entangled in the dim light. His mouth, a brand of wanting, traced a slow, deliberate path along the delicate column of her throat, each kiss a silent, potent question. A soft, breathy sigh escaped her lips as her fingers tangled in the dark silk of his hair, pulling him closer into the intoxicating orbit of their shared need. The world outside the room, with its mundane sounds and distant lights, dissolved into an irrelevant hum, forgotten agat the roaring pulse of blood in their ears. The sharp, clean scent of his cologne mingled with the sweet perfume of her arousal, creating a fragrance more compelling than any confection. Her back arched tinctively, a graceful bowstring pulled taut, pressing the softness of her body agat the hard, eager planes of his own. Every shift, every subtle adjustment of limbs, was a word in a silent, carnal language they were fluent in, a dialogue of skin and sensation. He murmured something low and guttural agat the shell of her ear, a promise or a plea that made her shiver from the crown of her head to the soles of her feet. In that suspended moment, charged with a delicious, aching tension, the only mystery was the exquisite timing of their final, mutual surrender.
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