Puretaboo
Kendra Sunderland, Nathan Bronson Pic(s)
The finality of the moment settled between them like a physical weight, a heavy, warm silence broken only by the frantic rhythm of two hearts beating out of sync. His thumb traced the delicate curve of her jaw, a whisper of a touch that sent a shiver cascading down her spine, raising goosebumps on her skin. She leaned into the pressure, her eyes closing as she memorized the scent of him—clean linen and the faint, sharp spice of his cologne, a fragrance she knew would haunt her forever. His other hand rested on the small of her back, a firm, possessive anchor that promised everything and nothing all at once. A single, hot tear escaped the corner of her eye, tracing a slow, deliberate path down her cheek before he caught it with his lips, the taste of salt and sorrow a fleeting communion. The warmth of his mouth so close to hers was an exquisite torture, a breath away from a kiss that could never be given. Every fiber of her being ached to melt into him, to feel the solid strength of his chest agat hers and forget the world waiting beyond their embrace. But the space between them grew, an invisible chasm widening with every passing second, filled with all the words left unspoken. He finally pulled away, his lingering heat on her skin the only proof he was ever there, leaving her with a hollow chill and the ghost of his touch.
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