Her lips hovered near his ear, soft and warm like a whisper of summer rain. The gentle brush sent a ripple of heat racing down his spine, making his skin tingle in ways he hadn’t felt in years. For a moment, it was as if time had slowed—nothing else mattered except that fleeting touch.
She pulled away slowly, deliberately, making sure he felt every fraction of an inch that separated them. It was a tease wrapped in tenderness, a delicate promise that there was more to come, but only when she chose.
His breath hitched involuntarily, the sudden space feeling like a void he wanted to fill. Her eyes met his over her shoulder, sparkling with mischief and control, silently daring him to follow, to chase, to beg for what she was withholding.
That simple gesture—so small, so intimate—spoke volumes. It wasn’t just about desire; it was about power, about the subtle dance where she led and he willingly followed. And in that slow retreat, she reminded him how electrifying restraint could be.