She Couldn’t Walk Away—Not After Feeling His Hands on Her Skin
She tried to step back, to gather her breath, but the moment his hands brushed her skin, everything inside her […]
She tried to step back, to gather her breath, but the moment his hands brushed her skin, everything inside her […]
She had entered the village with a shy glance, but that night, under the flickering candlelight, every touch from him
Whenever he lies down, he feels her all over again: the way her fingers traced his bones, the way his
Her presence lingers in the sheets, in the air, in the memories that wrap around him tighter than any embrace.
He wanted her lips long before he ever tasted them—soft enough to melt every ounce of control he had, sweet
She’s the fire he craves in every breath—the heat that wakes his body and silences every other thought. Every touch
She didn’t seduce with words—she seduced with presence, with a look that stripped him deeper than hands ever could. In
She was the kind of fire a man knows will burn him, yet he reaches for it anyway — because
He knew she wasn’t the type a man should chase — she was fire wrapped in soft skin, a beautiful
I’m not here to beg for attention or chase anyone; I’m here to leave a mark so deep that ignoring