Karups
Karups Pic(s)
The summer air was thick with the scent of jasmine and distant rain, clinging to our skin like a promise. His gaze was a physical touch, a slow, smoldering heat that traveled from my eyes to my lips, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. My breath hitched as his fingers, calloused and warm, traced the line of my jaw with an almost reverent slowness. The world narrowed to the space between our bodies, the charged silence speaking volumes in a language only we understood. I leaned into his palm, my own hand finding the solid strength of his shoulder, feeling the tremor that ran through him. Our foreheads touched, a tender collision that sent a shiver straight to my soul, and I closed my eyes, drowning in the sensation. The low murmur of his voice was a caress, whispering secrets that made my heart pound against my ribs like a wild bird. Every nerve ending felt alive, hyper-aware of the warmth radiating from him, a magnetic pull I was powerless to resist. In that suspended moment, the universe consisted only of his scent, his warmth, and the overwhelming rightness of our connection. Then his lips finally found mine, a soft, searching kiss that tasted of longing and a sweet, infinite surrender.
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