Blessing lay still for what felt like an eternity, her ear pressed against Kingsley's back, listening to the steady rhythm of his and Stella's soft breathing. Her own heart still hammered, a frantic echo of the forbidden desire that now consumed her. The scent of Kingsley's skin, mingled with the faint, sweet afterglow of the earlier intimacy, was a potent, intoxicating brew that pulled her deeper into a dangerous current.
Slowly, carefully, Blessing began to move. First, her hand, tracing a light, almost imperceptible path along Kingsley's arm, not quite touching, just hovering. Then, with a silent, determined resolve, she began to shed her own clothes, her movements slow, deliberate, each garment sliding off her body like a whisper in the dark. Her shirt, her shorts, her underwear – all
