Spicy Hot
Kael
My breath burns against her skin, her fingers tremble along my belt, seeking permission she doesn't dare ask. Isadora sitting in an armchair, looking at us. Her whole body vibrates with an impatience that drives me crazy, this moist heat between her thighs pressed against my pelvis, this smell of vanilla and sweat that rises from her, intoxicating. She doesn't need to speak. His eyes, two dark embers, say it all: I need you now.