Victoria Peaks
The afternoon sun cast long, golden fingers across my study, gliding the dust motes dancing in the quiet air. Coco sat across from me, her posture deceptively demure, but her eyes held a simmering intensity that belied her innocent smile. When I asked about her experience, a slow, deliberate smile graced her lips, and I felt a shiver of anticipation trace my spine. Her gaze was a tangible caress, warming my skin as she leaned forward, closing the respectful distance between us. The first brush of her fingertips against my cheek was electric, a silent question that my own sigh answered completely. Then her mouth found mine in a kiss that was not gentle, but a desperate, shared confession of everything left unspoken. My hands tangled in her hair, pulling her closer as if to fuse our very souls together through that single, searing point of contact. A soft, broken sound escaped her throat, a vibration against my lips that spoke of longing finally, beautifully sated. In that suspended moment, the world outside the sun-drenched room ceased to exist, leaving only the language of our racing hearts. We were two flames drawn together, destined to consume and be consumed in this tender, breathless fire.
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