Face fucking king
The midnight air was thick with a silence broken only by our shared breaths, a sacred space where her whispers wove a spell I was powerless to resist. My fingers, trembling with a reverence I could not name, traced the delicate line of her jaw, tilting her face to meet the moonlight that streamed through the window. Her eyes, deep pools of liquid shadow, held a universe of unspoken promises and a vulnerability that made my heart ache. A soft sigh escaped her lips as my thumb brushed her cheek, a gesture that felt more intimate than any kiss. I could feel the frantic rhythm of her pulse beneath my touch, a wild drumbeat echoing the one thrumming in my own veins. The world narrowed to this single point of contact, the heat of her skin seeping into mine, branding me with her presence. Every fiber of my being was attuned to her, to the slight tremble of her lower lip and the way her body swayed ever so slightly towards mine. It was a dance of silent yearning, a question asked without words and an answer given in the closing space between us. In that suspended moment, nothing existed but the profound, terrifying beauty of our connection. I was lost in her, completely and irrevocably, ready to drown in the quiet storm of her embrace.
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