At Midnight

The room was quiet except for the soft rhythm of the ceiling fan. She lay there, half asleep, when a warm breath brushed against her neck.

His fingers traced lazy circles down her spine, slow and deliberate, as if memorizing every inch of her skin. She shivered—not from cold, but from the heat gathering between them.

“Can’t sleep?” he whispered.

She didn’t answer. Instead, she tilted her head slightly, giving him more space to explore. His lips followed the curve of her shoulder, then lower… each kiss making her body ache for more.

When he finally slid his hand beneath the thin fabric of her nightwear, she gasped—soft, but enough to make him smile against her skin. The night melted around them, and words became moans, whispers, and the soft sound of two bodies craving each other.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Her lips were so close I forgot my own name.

The Loneliest Place on Earth Is Being a Broke Man With Ambition

The Exhaustion of Deciding What to Eat Every Single Day