Xander Black
The golden afternoon light bled through the blinds, painting warm stripes across the intimate space that separated them. Her myriad of tattoos seemed to shift and breathe with every soft exhalation, a secret cartography of her spirit laid bare upon her skin. He watched, a mountain of quiet intensity, his dark skin gleaming as he posed the next hushed question into the charged air between them. A slow, knowing smile graced her lips as she leaned forward, the graceful curve of her form a silent promise with every whispered answer she gifted him. The air grew thick with the scent of her perfume and the palpable heat of their shared anticipation, a tangible force that made her heart hammer against her ribs. With each correct response, he rewarded her not with words, but with the smoldering approval in his deep, brown eyes, a look that felt like a physical caress. She could feel the powerful energy radiating from his muscular frame, a contained storm of promise that made her breath catch. His gaze was a tender weight, tracing the lines of her neck and the slope of her shoulder with a reverence that made her feel utterly adored. This was a slow, delicious unraveling, a dance of subtle glances and unspoken understandings that built a breathtaking tension. In the final, breathless moment before her prize, the entire world narrowed to the space between their longing eyes, a silent conversation of pure, aching want.
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