Uită-te la mine când te las să te bucuri, bine?

The summer sun beats down as she fans herself gently, the curve of her chest peeking out with every breath. He can't help but stare—drawn in, weak, wanting. Desire overtakes reason, and before he realizes it, he's lost in her warmth. His lips trace her skin, tasting every inch, letting instinct guide him deeper into her heat.