floral pattern bedding

She’s practically melting into that man’s arms, her skin slick with sweat and a raw, desperate need. Her eyes are locked on his, a hungry plea for complete surrender. The way she’s pulling at his sleeve, her fingers stained with moisture, it’s an invitation you can practically taste. That little bit of saliva, that vulnerable tilt of her head—it screams of pure, untamed desire. She’s lost in him, completely consumed by the exquisite torture of wanting, and it’s utterly intoxicating.