He lifted me effortlessly, my legs wrapping around his waist as he carried me toward the low, wide couch that overlooked the city. The movement was fluid, unhurried, but the hunger beneath it was unmistakable. He laid me down with surprising gentleness, following immediately, his body covering mine without crushing. The weight of him felt perfect—solid, real, grounding.
Clothes disappeared between slow kisses and deliberate touches. My blouse slid off my shoulders, his fingers tracing the lace of my bra before unhooking it with practiced ease. When his mouth closed over one n****e, tongue circling and sucking until it peaked tight and aching, a moan tore from my throat. He didn’t rush; he savored, switching to the other breast while his hand slipped lower, palming my thigh, then sliding b
