Her touch was light, featherlike, as her fingers brushed his arm during a casual conversation. But that casual brush stretched into something longer—intentional, lingering just a heartbeat more than necessary. The subtle warmth of her skin against his sent a shiver up his spine, awakening nerves that had grown dull with time.
She glanced at him, eyes sparkling with mischief, and smiled knowingly—as if she held a secret that only he could understand. That small smile was an unspoken invitation, a silent acknowledgment that the moment had shifted. What had been ordinary had become charged with possibility.
Her fingers slowly traced a line along his wrist, barely touching, but enough to make his pulse quicken. He caught his breath and found himself leaning in without realizing it, drawn by the promise in her subtle caress.
In that fleeting moment, she showed him how power lies not just in bold moves but in the soft, deliberate ones—the touches that say “I see you, and I want you,” without a single word spoken.