ManoJob
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The sun melted into the sea, painting the sky in bruised shades of plum and gold as a warm, salt-kissed breeze whispered through our private villa. He stood behind me, his arms a secure circle around my waist, his chin resting gently on my shoulder as we watched the day surrender to the velvet night. I leaned back into the solid warmth of his chest, feeling the steady, reassuring rhythm of his heartbeat against my spine. Turning slowly within his embrace, I lifted a hand to his cheek, my thumb tracing the line of his jaw as his eyes, dark and full of unspoken promises, held mine captive. His fingers tangled softly in my hair, tilting my face up to meet his in a kiss that was not a question, but a slow, deep answer to a longing we had carried all day. It was a tender exploration, a silent conversation of lips and shared breath that made my knees feel weak and my soul feel light. The world narrowed to this single point of contact, the intoxicating scent of his skin and the night-blooming jasmine mingling in the humid air. A soft sigh escaped me, not of surrender, but of profound homecoming, as if every part of me had been waiting to fit perfectly against him. In that suspended moment, every whispered dream and every silent glance throughout the day culminated in this breathtaking intimacy. We were no longer two separate beings, but a single constellation burning brightly under the watchful, starlit sky.
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