She is lost.
His fingers slowly trace every curve. From her toes to her knees, from belly to breasts, his fingers travel the landscape of her body. Like an explorer, he climbs every peak. With each proprietary touch, he claims her, inch by inch.
His hands slip around her throat and his thumbs frame the hollow there. He leans forward to kiss the wildly beating pulse, singing her surrender.
She trembles uncontrollably as with each touch, each kiss he takes possession. He drinks her tears and with a whispered, “Mine,” she is found.
She is home.
She is his.
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