Nellie sat on the pale blue rug, her skirt hugging the generous curve of her hips, her ash-brown braids draped over her shoulders like soft ropes framing her delicate frame.
Her gray eyes, wide behind her glasses, held Lor's gaze with a heady mix of nervous anticipation and quiet trust.
The folded blouse beside her was a quiet symbol to her surrender, the plain bra barely containing the soft swell of her breasts, its simplicity making her modesty all the more alluring.
Her freckles danced across her cheeks, flushed with a warmth that betrayed her shy exterior.
Lor didn't rush.
He slid closer, his knees brushing hers, the faint contact sending a spark through the thick, warm air.
The silence stretched, heavy with promise, as her eyes flicked to his hands, then back to his face, the blush deepening across her freckled skin.
Her lips parted slightly, her breath catching in a way that made his pulse quicken.
