Karups
Karups Pic(s)
The moon cast a silver path across the silent room, illuminating the delicate curve of her smile as she turned to face me. Her fingers, feather-light, traced a slow, deliberate line from my wrist to my elbow, leaving a trail of shimmering heat on my skin. I could feel the soft whisper of her breath against my neck, a warm, rhythmic cadence that made my heart stumble. She leaned in, her forehead gently resting against mine, our shared gaze creating a universe contained within the scant space between us. The scent of night-blooming jasmine from the open window wove around us, an intoxicating perfume for this stolen moment. A soft sigh escaped her lips, not of weariness, but of profound, aching contentment that resonated deep within my own chest. My hand found the small of her back, feeling the delicate shift of muscle as she moved imperceptibly closer. In the profound quiet, the rustle of fabric against fabric sounded like a secret language only we understood. Every sense was heightened, every touch a slow-burning ember igniting a fire in my soul. This was not mere passion, but a tender, wordless conversation that promised the dawn would find us still entwined.
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