Karups
Karups Pic(s)
The evening air was thick with the scent of rain-soaked jasmine, clinging to our skin like a shared secret. His fingers, tracing the line of my collarbone, were not a demand but a quiet question whispered against my pulse. I leaned into the solid warmth of his chest, my own hands learning the landscape of his shoulders, each breath we took falling into a synchronized rhythm. The world narrowed to this single point of contact, a silent conversation spoken through trembling sighs and lowered lashes. A flush of heat bloomed across my skin, not from embarrassment, but from the sheer intensity of being truly seen. His gaze held mine, a deep, steady ocean where my own uncertainties quietly drowned. When his lips finally met mine, it was a slow, tender unraveling, a release of every guarded thought I had ever held. The soft groan that escaped him was a melody that resonated deep within my soul, a sound of pure, unguarded feeling. In that suspended moment, there was no past and no future, only the profound rightness of our tangled limbs and beating hearts. It was a surrender not of defeat, but of profound discovery, a journey beginning where the map ended.
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