Mari was known for her quiet elegance, often found reading by the window on warm afternoons. But beneath that calm surface, her body held a sensitivity she rarely revealed. That day, she was lost in her book, the light tracing her back and the soft curve of her hips. Behind her, he watched, breathing slow, desire building. When he leaned in and let his tongue brush gently against her skin, her breath caught. She stiffened, unsure, but she did not move away. He moved slowly, waiting. A quiver. A soft sound. A glance over her shoulder. She had not planned for this, but her body already knew what it wanted.
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