[LINA]
A sound escaped Dylan—a mix between a groan and a sigh—and then his mouth was on mine again.
This time, he didn't hold back. His kisses became urgent, his hands more daring, exploring the curves and hollows of my body like he was learning me by heart.
Clothes disappeared, forgotten on the floor, replaced by the warmth of skin against skin. My breath caught as he pressed gentle kisses down my neck, my shoulder, my chest—each one filled with unspoken emotion.
He wasn't just worshipping my body. He was telling me a story.
A story of longing. Of pain. Of years spent loving from a distance.
And now—finally—being allowed to love me openly.
His name slipped from my lips again and again, like a prayer, and he responded with quiet murmurs in my ear.
"You're beautiful."
"You're mine."
"I've waited so long for this."
