The Fire That He Left Behind: A Longing That Never Diminishes
There was something utterly magnetic about him, a confidence that radiated even in the most casual moments. There was a softness in the way he moved, a quiet confidence that made every glance feel like an invitation. His chest was broad and firm, the kind of chest you could rest your head on and feel safe yet excited. His muscles curved under his tanned, warm skin. His arms were the kind you dream of being wrapped in—strong, sure, and just rough enough to make you shiver when his hands touched you. His hands, calloused and strong, rough in the best way, a witness to his hard work. They weren’t just hands; they were one of God's best creations, capable of lifting you with ease, yet they held you with such care, as if you were something fragile. You still remember vividly how they felt on your skin. And then there were his lips. God, those lips. Full, tempting, and perfectly shaped, the kind that would leave you breathless and begging for more. When he looked at you with those...