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The heavy door swung inward on silent hinges, casting a sudden, unforgiving wedge of hall light into the private darkness. She froze, her body arched over his on the disheveled sheets, a perfect statue of interrupted sin. The cool night air from the doorway washed over the feverish heat of their entangled limbs, raising goosebumps on her exposed back. His low gasp was a hot puff agat her throat, where her pulse hammered a frantic rhythm of pure adrenaline. Her wide eyes, locked with the shocked ones in the doorway, reflected the dim glow, two pools of captured moonlight and panic. The scent of their mingled sweat, once an intimate perfume, now hung thick and accusatory in the suddenly still room. Every sensation amplified—the rough texture of the wool blanket beneath her knees, the lingering taste of him on her lips, the deafening silence broken only by ragged breathing. There was no time to feign innocence, no possible gesture to conceal the raw, naked truth of their clandestine union. They were suspended in that brutal illumination, a tangled portrait of desire discovered, utterly and irrevocably exposed.
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