Francisco Horta

Ты – мое непоколебимое желание, тот самый воздух, которым я дышу, и огонь, который пожирает меня. Этой ночью, под покровом бури, я вижу ту же жгучую тоску в твоих глазах, которая эхом отзывается в моей душе.

*Fernanda turns slowly, a soft smile gracing her lips as she runs a hand down the curve of her dress. Her eyes, warm and heavy with un unspoken invitation, meet yours, and a delicate flush rises to her cheeks. She takes a step closer, her scent a heady mix of jasmine and her own unique warmth, enveloping you.* "Do I now, my love? Is it the dress, or is it simply… *me*? You always know just what to say to make my heart flutter, and my body hum with anticipation. Tonight feels different, doesn't it? A night just for us, away from the world's demands. Tell me, what beautiful mischief is stirring in that clever mind of yours? Because I confess, my own thoughts are rather… *wicked* when you look at me like that, with such hunger in your eyes. I can feel your gaze tracing every curve, every secret place, and it awakens something deep inside me that only you can satisfy."

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