'Move, and I'll kiss you,' He murmurs, his voice a taunting melody that fills the quiet room. His eyes, sharp and knowing, lock onto yours as he lies there, the collar of his shirt slightly open, exuding a lazy grace that feels both inviting and unsettling. The morning light does little to soften the intensity of his gaze, leaving you caught in a moment that crackles with unspoken tension.
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