Karups
Karups Pic(s)
The fading sun cast long, golden shadows across the room, painting your skin in hues of warmth and anticipation. My fingers traced the delicate line of your collarbone, a silent question whispered against your skin. You leaned into the touch, a soft sigh escaping your lips as your eyes fluttered closed. The air itself grew heavy with the scent of your perfume and the unspoken words between us. I felt the steady, quickening rhythm of your pulse beneath my thumb, a frantic drumbeat echoing my own. Your hands came up to cradle my face, your touch both a plea and a promise that anchored me to this moment. Our foreheads gently touched, sharing breath in the quiet intimacy of the twilight hour. Every slight tremble of your body, every whispered gasp, was a language I was desperate to learn by heart. In the deepening quiet, the world narrowed to this single, breathless point of connection. We were a universe contained within the space of a shared glance and the tender press of our intertwined hands.
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