MaddySimons

Under the caress of the shadows, it becomes a secret fire, a sweet fever that consumes, a breath that touches the skin like a forbidden prayer. Every silence becomes a bite, every look, a promise where the night becomes a temple and desire.

Her lips are dark roses, ready to open in the rain of sighs. His hands trace invisible maps on the skin offered, as if each gesture had the power to invent eternity. In this labyrinth of flesh, the soul is lost voluntarily, prisoner of a delicious vertigo.

She lies in silence, and her body becomes a turbulent sea. The waves of his breath overturn all reason. A scent of secrecy still floats, and the night, complicit, hides its flames under the veil of stars.

The silk of her skin calls, like a book never read. Each page is a burn, each word, a caress. Desire does not need a name, it is written with the tongue, it is printed with the fingers, and is devoured in the brilliance of the moment.

It is the temptation of dawn, a fragile sparkle that defies the modesty of the day. When his gestures become slow, they become invisible chains, holding his breath waiting for a fire.

Under her closed eyelids, a world of fever lights up. Whispers become flames, and every shudder is a secret language. She gives herself to the night as a silent oath, where pleasure and pain dance the same dance.

Her body is an enigma, an endless poem where lips are verses, and sighs, rhymes. Whoever dares to read it can no longer escape, for the words burn, and the flesh demands its due.

It unfolds like a night flower, fragile and dangerous at the same time. Her gestures paint thunderstorms, her silences, lightning. One would like to flee, but its scent enchains, and one gets lost in this abyss with the joy of the shipwrecked.

The night clothes it with a mystery, with a veil more burning than fire. Every sigh is a weapon, every movement, a trap. It is the border of the dream, the vertigo of the forbidden, the brilliance that gently destroys those who dare to contemplate it for too long.