Salt Air & Skin

The salt spray kissed my skin, a cool shock against the slow burn spreading beneath it. He wasn't here, not physically, but I could still feel the ghost of his hand on my waist, warm and possessive.
This cliffside…it had become *our* place. A silent promise etched onto the rugged stone with every shared glance, every stolen touch. The dress felt heavy against my skin; a gilded cage compared to the way he’d strip it from me, slowly, deliberately, his eyes burning into mine all the while.
I closed my eyes, remembering the rough rasp of stubble on my neck as he whispered promises – not of forever, never that…but of *now*. A now where everything else faded except this ache between us. The ocean’s rhythm throbbed like a second heartbeat in my ears, mirroring the frantic pace beneath his palm.
A shudder ran through me, and I pressed my fingers to the pulse point on my wrist, as if trying to still it. Foolish. He'd awakened something feral within me, something that craved heat and touch and the delicious sting of surrender.

Editor: Pulse