Karups
Karups Pic(s)
The fading sun cast long, trembling shadows across the room, gilding the curve of Emmanuela’s shoulder as she turned her head. His gaze was a tangible warmth, a slow caress that made her skin hum with a silent, aching music. She felt the weight of his attention in the quickening pulse at her throat, a fragile bird fluttering against his silent call. A single, deliberate step closed the distance between them, the air thickening with the scent of rain and her delicate perfume. His fingers, when they finally brushed a stray lock of hair from her cheek, were not tentative but reverent, a question whispered against her skin. Her eyes fluttered closed, not in retreat but in surrender, as a sigh escaped her lips, soft as a secret. In that suspended moment, the world narrowed to the space where his thumb traced the line of her jaw, a touch that felt like both a promise and a memory. She leaned into his palm, her entire being tilting toward his solid, steady presence like a flower seeking the sun. Every breath she took was filled with him, the faint scent of his skin weaving a spell of profound and dizzying intimacy. This was the unraveling, a silent, beautiful coming undone in the quiet safety of his unwavering regard.
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