Riu Melo
Marco,Riu Melo,Liu Johnny
The evening light bled like honey through the window, casting long, warm shadows across the rumpled sheets where we lay entwined. His breath hitched, a soft, broken sound against my neck as my hands traced the delicate arch of his back, feeling the fine tremors that danced beneath his skin. Our bodies moved in a slow, ancient rhythm, a silent conversation of push and pull that spoke of a deep, consuming trust. I watched the play of emotion across his face—his eyes squeezed shut, then fluttering open, hazy with a pleasure so profound it bordered on pain. A single tear escaped, tracing a glistening path to his temple, and I caught it with my lips, tasting the salt of his surrender. The air was thick with the scent of our shared warmth and the quiet sounds of our union, a symphony of ragged breaths and rustling cotton. Every point of contact felt electric, a current of pure feeling that connected our souls as much as our forms. He buried his face in the pillow, his fingers clutching desperately at my arms, anchoring himself to this moment, to me. In his complete and utter vulnerability, I found my own strength, a fierce, protective love that tightened my embrace. This was not just a joining of bodies, but a sacred fusion, where two separate beings momentarily ceased to exist, leaving only one perfect, breathless whole.
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