Collarbones Like Promises
Softness That Demands to Be Kissed They were the first thing I noticed. Not his lips. Not his cock. Not the way his hands hovered near my hip like he already knew the curve. No—it was his collarbones. Sharp. Soft.…
The Worship of Thighs
Power, Weight, Press The first time he pinned me down, it wasn’t with arms. It was with his thighs. Solid. Relentless. The way they pressed into the mattress—one on either side of my ribs—left me no place to go, no…