Promises in the Dark

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“Mine,” she said, her lips soft against his neck, her breath warm, her breasts warmer yet against his back, as she wrapped her body – big spoon style, pressed against him skin to skin – around his.

“Mine,” he said, his voice sated and sleepy, his body relaxing into her curves as he reached behind him, pulling her in closer.

“Yes,” she whispered.

A prayer, a promise.

He nodded gently as he began to drift.

Yes.

Mine.

© Mrs Fever – Temperature’s Rising

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