[ he can't see the best of it, but Sprezzatura can feel it: the colour pooling in her cheeks until they are so warm that it seems to overflow. from there, it slips down her throat to collect at her collar, and around to the backs of each shoulder.
and the kneading. she closes her eyes as the guilty thrill bolts through her. he really has the nicest hands...
face down against the bedspread, one arm hooked beneath to pillow her cheek. mumbled, ] Thank you...
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and the kneading. she closes her eyes as the guilty thrill bolts through her. he really has the nicest hands...
face down against the bedspread, one arm hooked beneath to pillow her cheek. mumbled, ] Thank you...