Daniela Gomezx
The rain-streaked hotel window cast shimmering, liquid patterns across the dim room, where the only sounds were our shared, unsteady breaths and the distant city hum. He lay perfectly still in the other bed, a dark silhouette I could feel watching me, his gaze a tangible heat that traced the curve of my shoulder exposed by the thin sheet. I pretended to sleep, letting the linen slip lower with each feigned, restless turn, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against the mattress. The charged silence between us thickened, becoming a living thing woven from longing and unspoken permission. Then, a soft rustle, the floorboards whispering under his cautious weight as he crossed the divide, his shadow falling over me like a blessing. His fingertips, hesitant and warm, brushed a stray lock of hair from my cheek, a touch that sent lightning through my veins. I opened my eyes then, meeting his stormy gaze, and in that wordless exchange, every barrier of restraint crumbled into dust. He leaned down, his lips finding mine in a kiss that tasted of stolen midnight and aching sweetness, his hands mapping the landscape of my body with a reverence that made me tremble. Our movements were a silent, desperate language, a confluence of yearning souls beneath the sheltering cotton, each sigh and shudder a confession more profound than any word. And in the hushed aftermath, as we lay tangled and breathless, a new, profound intimacy settled over us, our secret now eternally woven into the fabric of the night.
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