Evilangel
Alicia Reign, Bryan Gozzling Pic(s)
The air itself seemed to thicken, charged with the scent of her surrender and the sharp, clean smell of his skin. His gaze held her, a silent command that stripped away all pretense, leaving only the raw, pulsing truth of the moment. A single, deliberate touch of his fingers tracing the line of her jaw sent a shiver cascading down her spine, awakening every nerve ending. She felt the cool wall agat her back as he leaned in, his breath a warm promise agat her lips before he claimed them in a kiss that was less an invitation and more a conquest. A low moan escaped her throat, a sound of pure, unadulterated yielding that was swallowed by his mouth. His hands mapped the landscape of her body with an authority that brooked no argument, finding the hidden places that made her gasp and arch agat him. The world narrowed to this singular point of contact, to the pressure of his body and the dizzying loss of control that felt more like liberation. Every whispered word, every possessive grasp, was a lesson in a language she had always known but never dared to speak. In the quiet aftermath, with her limbs heavy and her will utterly dissolved, she understood the profound power found only in complete and total acquiescence.
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