Karinamello
Karina Mello,Leo Ogro
The afternoon sun cast long, golden shadows across the room, illuminating the delicate dust motes dancing in the air between them. Her dark eyes held his, a universe of unspoken promises shimmering within their depths. His calloused hand, surprisingly gentle, traced the elegant line of her jaw, sending a visible tremor through her form. A soft sigh escaped her lips, not of words, but of pure feeling, as she leaned into his touch. He could feel the frantic rhythm of her heart answering the steady, strong beat of his own, a silent, percussive conversation. Her fingers tangled in his hair, not pulling, but anchoring herself in the storm of sensation he evoked. The scent of her skin, warm and faintly floral, filled his senses, becoming the only air he wished to breathe. Every point of contact, from the press of her thigh against his to the warmth of her back beneath his palm, felt electric and profound. In that suspended moment, the world outside ceased to exist, leaving only the sacred, shared space of their embrace. It was a silent language of longing and devotion, spoken entirely through the quiet poetry of their entwined bodies.
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