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💜 Anna 💜 Frozen 💜 140+ Images in Download-Link

Added 2025-05-28 08:00:05 +0000 UTC

The lights were low.
The fire flickered softly.
And the air between us was thick with something unspoken.

I stood in front of him, dressed in nothing but a loose sweater and thigh-high socks — cozy, casual, the kind of look that hides everything and suggests more.

He sat on the couch, legs parted, eyes dark, patient. Watching.

I loved that part.
Being watched.
Being unwrapped — slowly, deliberately — like a gift he couldn’t wait to open.

I peeled the sweater up inch by inch, teasing the curve of my waist, letting him glimpse soft skin before revealing more. No rush. Just silence, breath, and heat.

When it slipped over my head, I stood there bare-chested, flushed, nipples tight in the firelight. I stepped forward. Dropped to my knees.

He was already hard when I reached for him — and I moaned softly when I wrapped my lips around him. I took him deep, slow, deliberate. My tongue traced every inch. My throat relaxed for him. And I let him hear it all.

The sounds. The breath. The way my mouth worshipped him like this was the only thing I wanted in the world.

And it was.

When I pulled back, lips glistening, I smiled and stood again — slower this time. My socks slid off next, one by one, then my underwear — until I stood fully nude in the glow of the fireplace, warm and exposed, wanting to be seen.

I lay back on the rug.

One hand drifted between my thighs while the other cupped my breast. I moaned, eyes locked on his, fingers circling, hips lifting. The room smelled like sweat and skin and something sweeter.

He watched, unmoving — jaw clenched, chest rising — until I gasped and whispered his name, breathless from the pleasure I'd given myself.

Then he moved.

He was over me in seconds — kissing me hard, gripping my thighs, sliding inside me with a groan that vibrated through both our bodies. I wrapped around him, pulling him closer, letting him take whatever he wanted.

We didn’t speak.

We didn’t need to.

He moved me where he wanted — on my back, on top, knees tucked, hands pinned — and I gave in every time. His rhythm changed with the firelight, slow and deep, then harder, urgent, like he couldn’t get close enough.

And when he finally pulled back, stroking himself over my stomach, over my chest, over the curves he’d just spent himself inside…

I watched him.
Breathless.
Begging.

He finished with a growl — thick and hot across my skin, painting me in the firelight like I was his work of art. And I loved how it felt.

Warm.
Claimed.
Complete.

I stayed just like that for him — glowing, dripping, open — smiling at the way he looked at me like I’d undone him completely.

Because I had.

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