ManoJob
Manojob Pic(s)
The last amber light of sunset bled through the tall windows, casting long, dancing shadows across the library where they stood. His hand, warm and sure, found the delicate curve of her lower back, a touch that sent a silent, shivering promise through the thin silk of her dress. She leaned into the solid strength of his chest, her cheek resting against the soft wool of his jacket, breathing in his scent of sandalwood and rain. His breath was a soft caress against her temple, stirring loose tendrils of her hair as his thumb traced slow, hypnotic circles on her spine. A soft, breathless sigh escaped her lips, not as a sound, but as a surrender that melted her form against his. He lowered his head, his lips hovering a whisper away from hers, the air between them crackling with unspoken yearning. In that suspended moment, the world narrowed to the frantic drum of her heartbeat echoing in her ears and the profound tenderness in his darkened gaze. The space between them dissolved, not with urgency, but with a slow, inevitable gravity that pulled them together. When their lips finally met, it was a gentle collision, a fusion of breath and soft pressure that tasted of longing and sweet, unspoken vows. A profound quiet bloomed within her, a deep, resonant peace she had never known, as his arms wrapped around her, holding her as something precious and found.
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