Every Inch Of Your Skin

“Do you fancy me?”

Had her heart thumped any louder or speedier, the neighbouring seagulls would have broken into a fervid dance to the tempo of her unabated febrility.

She willed herself to calm down, as blood catapulted frenetically through her veins insofar as she was ate up with vertigo, and him to respond, which, after the pause of half a minute, when the air of distant silence converted from spine-tingling to ear-splitting, he outstretched his hands and glided them along her bare tummy.


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