Disclaimer: Don't own them.
Arch
by
Claudia M. Gacrux
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The arch of her back and a deep moan of pleasure.
She reacts, responds, writhes beneath him, fragile and beautiful, like a porcelain doll that came to life at his touch.
Large chocolate eyes are fixed on him, half open, as he wraps his arm around her waist and pulls her up against him.
Her delicate body collides with his sinewy one, and a little whimper escapes her, her hair falling across his shoulder like a curtain of golden silk.
His bronzed hands slide down her back, rough against her soft skin, sending shivers down her spine.
She whispers his name, out of breath and drunk on him, plunging her hand into his black mane, beads and baubles rattling and clinking. Jeweled rings dig into her flesh when he grips her bottom and tugs her closer.
Their eyes lock.
His black orbs, hauntingly beautiful and fathomless, glimmer with intensity. They hold her gaze captive, hypnotizing her, promising her everything and nothing at the same time.
Her breath catches in her throat, body trembles, and she suddenly realizes how vulnerable and dependent she is.
She needs him.
She knows it. And so does he.
His hand cups her small breast, calloused fingers scratching her skin lightly. He brushes his thumb back and forth against her pert nipple until she moans his name.
Then he releases her breast. His hand travels up her sternum and to her neck in a slow torture that makes her want him all the more.
She lets out a sigh of frustration and presses the gentle swell of her breasts harder against his chest.
A small smile spreads across his chiseled features.
Their eyes lock again.
"Something wrong?" she asks in a shaky tone, brimming with insecurity.
He laughs in response, his voice rich and low and reassuring.
"No, of course not," he says against her luscious lips as he pushes her onto the bed and settles between her legs.
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