When Desire Becomes A Sin
My body reacted before my mind could even process it, trembling under the weight of his touch, craving him, needing him.
His hand slid over my chest, kneading and teasing, fingers pressing into me as if memorizing every curve, every hollow, every inch of my skin. Heat pooled low in my belly, making me arch involuntarily toward him, desperate for more contact. Each touch was a slow, intoxicating burn, and I could feel his own desire pressing insistently against me, every movement deliberate, every caress claiming me.
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