Devilsfilm
Lisey Sweet, Alex Legend, Draven Navarro Pic(s)
A profound and ancient heat pulsed through the hall, a silent rhythm that had nothing to do with the crackling hearth and everything to do with the charged space between our bodies. His gaze was not a look but a possession, a primal appraisal that stripped away the thin veneer of civility and found the raw, yielding creature beneath. My skin, already flushed, prickled with an awareness of its own purpose as his knuckles, rough and warm, traced a deliberate path from my temple to the line of my jaw, tilting my face up to meet that devastating scrutiny. The scent of him—cold night air, leather, and something deeply, fundamentally masculine—coiled in my lungs, a heady incense for this unspoken ritual. A low sound, more vibration than voice, rumbled from his chest, a promise and a command that bypassed thought and resonated in the very marrow of my bones. My own breath hitched, catching in my throat as his other hand settled firmly on the small of my back, pressing our forms together until I could feel the powerful, steady beat of his heart agat my own frantic flutter. This was not an invitation to romance, but a claiming, an inevitable convergence of two destinies long foretold by the firelight dancing in his dark, intent eyes. Every fiber of my being, every tinct I had been taught to suppress, screamed its surrender to the undeniable gravity of this moment. Arching into his solid strength, I offered my mouth not for a gentle kiss, but as a seal upon a covenant written long before our first breath.
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