Matt Bishop XXX
The city lights blurred outside the window, mere smudges of gold against the deep velvet of the night, as if the world beyond this room had ceased to exist. His gaze, heavy with unspoken longing, met hers, and a silent understanding passed between them, a current of electricity that made the air hum. Her breath hitched as his fingers, trembling slightly, traced the delicate line of her jaw, a touch so feather-light it was almost a memory. She leaned into his palm, her eyes fluttering closed, surrendering to the wave of emotion that threatened to pull her under. Every point of contact, the press of his thigh against hers, the warmth of his chest against her back, felt like a separate, burning star. A soft sigh escaped her lips, not of words, but of pure feeling, a sound that seemed to hang in the quiet space between heartbeats. He moved closer, his scent of clean linen and night air enveloping her, and she felt the solid, reassuring weight of his desire. In that suspended moment, there was only the shared rhythm of their breathing, the frantic drum of her heart echoing in her ears, and the terrifying, beautiful thrill of the forbidden. The world narrowed to this single, breathless point of connection, a secret universe built from stolen glances and trembling hands. And as he finally bridged the last inch between them, it felt less like a beginning and more like a homecoming, a perfect, fragile collision of two souls laid completely bare.
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