ManoJob
Manojob Pic(s)
The city simmered outside the window, a distant, hazy dream as the relentless sun cast long, lazy shadows across the room. His thumb traced the delicate line of her collarbone, a whisper of a touch that made her breath catch in her throat. She leaned into the solid warmth of his chest, her skin tingling where their bodies met in a silent, burning pact. The air was thick and sweet with the scent of sun-warmed skin and her fading perfume, a fragrance that clung to him like a memory. He watched the pulse flutter at the base of her neck, a frantic little bird beating against its cage, and felt an answering rhythm in his own veins. Her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, not pulling, but holding on as if he were her only anchor in the sweltering stillness. A slow, tender smile graced his lips, a silent language that spoke of adoration and a deep, aching want. In that suspended moment, the entire world narrowed to the space between their gazes, heavy with unspoken promises and a heat that rivaled the afternoon. She closed her eyes, surrendering to the feeling, every nerve ending alight with a delicious, trembling anticipation. It was a perfect, breathless collision of two souls, melting together in the golden, sizzling silence.
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