The force and rhythm were perfectly controlled.
Lianne was lost in the moment, her cheeks searing. Her voice rose, trembling with a faint whimper. "You're beautiful."
"Then do you like it?" Seth Sinclair's thin lips pressed against her neck, suckling her delicate skin.
Lianne was panting too hard to speak.
On a snowy night in Imperia, a vibrant, delicate flower quivered as it bloomed, bursting with tenacious life.
...
An evening breeze swept through the villa, making the curtains sway. Lianne was lost in a hazy sea, submerged by wave after wave until she could barely breathe.
Snowflakes danced outside the window as the moon hung high in the sky. The moonlight and snow intertwined, weaving an intimate tapestry.
In the vast bedroom, brightly lit as if by day, clothes lay tangled in a heap on the carpet.
A sensual charge spiraled upward, spreading with abandon to fill every corner of the room.
