Girls That Finish The Job
Girls That Finish The Job Pic(s)
The evening air was thick with the scent of blooming jasmine, clinging to our skin as we stood on the quiet balcony. His hand found the small of my back, a warm, steady pressure that made my breath catch. I leaned into him, my head finding its familiar place against his shoulder, feeling the solid rhythm of his heart. His fingers traced a slow, deliberate path up my spine, leaving a trail of gentle fire in their wake. Our eyes met, and in that silent exchange, the world beyond our shared space simply melted away. A soft sigh escaped my lips as he cupped my cheek, his thumb stroking my jawline with an almost reverent tenderness. I could feel the unspoken words hanging between us, a palpable energy humming in the scant inches that separated our bodies. He leaned in, his forehead resting against mine, our breaths mingling into one. In that suspended moment, I felt completely known, utterly cherished, and entirely his. The distant city lights blurred into a golden haze, mirroring the warm, liquid feeling pooling deep within my soul.
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