Karups
Karups Pic(s)
The evening air was heavy with the scent of jasmine and damp earth, clinging to our skin as we wandered into the moon-drenched garden. His hand found the small of my back, a touch so light it sent a tremor through my entire being, a silent question I answered with a slow, deliberate turn. Our eyes met, and in that breathless space, the world narrowed to the frantic rhythm of my own heart. He leaned in, his breath a warm caress against my neck, and I felt my knees weaken as his lips traced a path to my collarbone. My fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, every nerve ending alight with a desperate, aching need. A soft sigh escaped me, lost in the rustling leaves, as his hands slid up my spine, mapping the curve of my waist with an agonizing slowness. I could feel the heat radiating from his body, a furnace that promised to consume my every lonely thought. The world fell away, leaving only the language of our shared breaths and the unspoken yearning that trembled between us. In that hidden bower, time itself seemed to pause, holding its breath for the fragile, beautiful thing we were becoming. This was more than a kiss; it was a quiet surrender to a longing I could no longer contain.
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