Girls That Finish The Job
Girls That Finish The Job Pic(s)
The city lights blurred beyond the rain-streaked window, a distant galaxy of gold and white. His breath was a warm caress against her temple as his fingers traced the delicate line of her collarbone, a silent question in the stillness. A shiver, delicate as a falling petal, cascaded down her spine, and she leaned into the solid warmth of his chest. The air itself seemed to thicken, charged with the unspoken words that hung between them like a promise. He slowly tilted her chin, his gaze holding hers with an intensity that made the world outside vanish. In his eyes, she saw a reflection of her own longing, a shared vulnerability that stole her breath. The scent of his skin, a mix of clean cotton and the night rain, filled her senses, becoming the only thing she could comprehend. A soft sigh escaped her lips as his thumb gently brushed her lower lip, a touch so light it was almost a memory. Her hands found their way to the nape of his neck, her fingers tangling in the soft strands of his hair, anchoring her to this singular, dizzying moment. In that suspended silence, with only the rhythm of their hearts beating a frantic, synchronized tattoo, she felt utterly, completely known.
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