Light as moth wings, my fingertips drift down the length of your, Montagu – 28

Light as moth wings, my fingertips drift down the length of your arms—raising a wake of goosebumps—then reverse course, climbing slowly until they cradle your skull. - 079x2196x902 -

I tilt your face to mine and begin the kiss: lips brushing, then pressing, then parting. Tongues meet in a slow, syrupy glide that deepens gradually—exploring, tasting, claiming without urgency. Your hands eventually find my shoulders; mine stay tangled in your hair, keeping you close while the kiss stretches luxuriously. Heat pools low and heavy. We drown in that single, endless kiss until the rest of the world simply ceases to exist.