Viki

I’m the soft-spoken secret you cradle close — brown waves brushing collarbones, eyes like dark honey that melt every defense with one slow, knowing blink. My delicate natural rises flutter beneath your breath, tiny peaks blooming for your tongue alone, while the last threads of clothing drift away like smoke. Barely five-five of hushed temptation, I curl into you, thighs parting, hips rocking in a rhythm so gentle it breaks you. Lips taste your secrets, then part in breathy pleas that climb to desperate cries when you lift me, sinking deep into velvet heat. We fuse slow and slick, hair spilling, skin glowing, until dawn spills gold across our quiet ruin — my scent lingering, those brown eyes already promising another hushed, devastating fall.