Private Society
The final, lingering shiver traced its way up Vanessa’s spine just as the first hint of dawn brushed the horizon in muted gold. Her body, utterly spent and boneless, was a map of their fervent journey, every nerve ending humming a quiet, satisfied hymn. She lay curled against Connor, her head resting on his chest, listening to the frantic rhythm of his heart gradually soften into a steady, comforting drum. A single, blissful tear escaped the corner of her eye, tracing a slow path through the delicate moisture at her temple, and he caught it with a reverence that stole her breath anew. The air in the room was thick and warm, heavy with the scent of their shared passion and the silent understanding that passed between them. His fingers, now gentle, drew lazy, possessive circles on the small of her back, each touch a soft echo of the tempest that had so recently consumed them. She felt fragile, like a vessel that had been filled to its absolute brim with sensation, now peacefully empty and content. In the hushed stillness, their intertwined legs were a silent promise, a tangle of warmth and belonging against the cool sheets. He pressed a kiss into her hair, a gesture so tender it made her heart ache with a profound, overwhelming gratitude. They existed in that perfect, fleeting silence, two souls suspended in the aftermath, completely and utterly ruined for anyone else.
Comments
Post a Comment