Burningangel
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The air in the room was thick and warm, carrying the faint, sweet scent of their exertion. A soft, breathy sigh escaped her lips as she felt the final, shuddering release deep within her, a warm flood that seemed to radiate through her very core. Her body, slick with a fine sheen of perspiration, trembled agat the rumpled sheets, every muscle lax and humming with satisfaction. His weight was a comforting, heavy presence upon her, their heartbeats a frantic, slowing drumbeat agat each other’s skin. She could feel the lingering pulse of his passion ide her, a secret, intimate warmth that made her toes curl agat the mattress. The fading light from the window cast long, dancing shadows across their tangled limbs, painting their stillness in hues of gold and grey. A profound, languid peace settled over them, the only sound the soft whisper of their synchronized breathing. He buried his face in the curve of her neck, his breath a hot caress agat her damp skin as the last waves of pleasure ebbed away. In that quiet aftermath, there was only the profound, physical truth of their connection, a silent testament to the shared peak they had so passionately reached.
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