NIKSINDIAN
AnalVids Pic(s)
The monsoons had painted the world in shades of grey outside, but inside, the air was thick with the scent of damp earth and jasmine, clinging to her skin like a secret. He watched her from the doorway, his gaze a physical touch that made her shiver, a silent question hanging between them. She turned, her dark eyes meeting his, and in their depths, he saw a surrender that stole his breath. Her fingers, trembling slightly, traced the line of his jaw before she leaned in, her breath a warm caress against his neck. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she pressed a kiss there, a promise of the storm to come. The world narrowed to the space where their bodies almost touched, the heat between them a palpable force. Every hesitant touch, every shared glance, was a word in a language only they understood, building a tension that was both agony and ecstasy. When her lips finally met his, it was not a conquest but a melding, a slow, deep tasting that spoke of longing held too long at bay. The taste of rain and something uniquely her filled his senses, a heady intoxication that made his hands tremble as they settled on her waist. In that suspended moment, nothing existed but the rhythm of their hearts and the unspoken vow passing from her soul to his. It was a silent symphony of yearning, a beautiful, aching prelude to a story only they would ever know.
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