Girls That Finish The Job
Girls That Finish The Job Pic(s)
The world outside frosted into a silent, white cathedral, but within our warm cocoon, the only sound was the soft crackle of the fire. His thumb, dusted with a whisper of powdered sugar, traced the line of my jaw with a tenderness that made my breath catch. I leaned into his touch, my eyes closing as I inhaled his scent, a comforting mix of cedar and vanilla. A gentle smile played on his lips as he drew me closer, our foreheads resting together in a silent, understanding pact. I could feel the steady, strong rhythm of his heart against my palm, a drumbeat syncing with my own fluttering pulse. His hands, warm and sure, slid slowly up my back, leaving a trail of awakening shivers in their wake. The world narrowed to this single point of contact, this shared breath, this unspoken promise hanging in the air between us. A soft sigh escaped me, not of sorrow, but of profound relief, as if I had finally arrived home after a long, cold journey. He tilted my chin up, his gaze holding mine with an intensity that felt both fragile and eternal. In that suspended moment, surrounded by the quiet hush of falling snow, we melted into a kiss that tasted of sweet icing and a love warmer than any summer sun.
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