Karups
Karups Pic(s)
The moon cast a silver path across the rumpled sheets, illuminating the quiet space between our breaths. His fingers traced a slow, deliberate line from my wrist to my shoulder, a question whispered against my skin. I closed my eyes, surrendering to the shiver that followed the path of his touch, a silent language only our bodies understood. The scent of night-blooming jasmine drifted through the open window, mingling with the warmth of his skin so close to mine. My own hand found the steady, strong plane of his back, feeling the faint tremor that answered my tentative exploration. A soft sigh escaped my lips, not of words, but of pure feeling, a release of all the day’s tension. He leaned in, his forehead gently resting against mine, our shared breath creating a universe contained within that single moment. The world outside, with all its noise and haste, simply melted into a distant, forgotten dream. Every glance, every slight shift in position, felt like a sacred promise being exchanged without a single sound. In that hushed intimacy, I felt utterly known, my soul laid bare and met with nothing but reverence and a profound, answering ache.
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