Karups
Karups Pic(s)
The only light was a silver thread from the hallway, carving his silhouette from the darkness as he approached. My breath hitched when his knuckles, cool and gentle, grazed the line of my jaw, tilting my face upward. His scent, clean linen and night air, enveloped me completely as he leaned in, his forehead resting against mine in a silent question. I answered by letting my fingers trace the strong line of his shoulder, feeling the latent strength there coil at my touch. Our lips met not with haste, but with a slow, searching tenderness that sent a shiver cascading down my spine. A soft sigh escaped me, lost against his mouth as his hands settled on my waist, his thumbs drawing slow, burning circles on the fabric of my shirt. The world beyond our shared breath, our trembling closeness, simply ceased to exist. Every nerve ending sang with the electricity of his nearness, a humming current of pure feeling. I melted into the solid warmth of his chest, my own hands sliding up to tangle in the soft hair at the nape of his neck. In that suspended minute, we were the only two souls, speaking a language of touch more profound than any words.
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