Karups
Karups Pic(s)
The grand ballroom shimmered, a sea of jewels and silk, yet he saw only her. She did not look at him, not directly, but let her gaze slide past his shoulder as if searching for a more interesting vista. A slow, deliberate turn presented the elegant line of her neck, the delicate hollow at her throat a silent invitation. The scent of night-blooming jasmine from her skin wove through the air between them, a fragrant promise. Her fingers, brushing the stem of her glass, traced a pattern that made his own hand ache to feel their touch. When she finally allowed her eyes to meet his, it was only for a fleeting, burning second, a spark that lit a fire in his chest. A soft, knowing smile played upon her lips as she turned away, the silk of her gown whispering secrets against the marble floor. The space where she had stood felt charged, electric with the ghost of her presence. He was caught, utterly and completely, not by a demand but by the exquisite art of her retreat. Every graceful movement had been a quiet question to which his entire being now shouted a desperate, longing yes.
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