In the dimly lit room, a woman with thick, raven-black hair stood facing away from the door, her silhouette framed in the soft glow of a single candle. The flickering flame cast long shadows down her bare back, highlighting the curves and contours of her luscious body. She was the picture of an Indian babe, exotic and alluring, her smooth caramel skin glowing with an inner fire that was impossible to ignore.
He watched her from the doorway, his breath catching in his throat as he took in the sight of her. He had been dreaming of this moment for weeks, ever since he had first laid eyes on her at the local market. She had been haggling with the vendor over the price of a pashmina scarf, her voice a lilting melody that had drawn him in like a moth to a flame.
He had approached her cautiously, not wanting to frighten her away. But she had turned to him with a warm smile, her dark eyes sparkling with curiosity and intelligence. They had talked for hours, their conversation ranging from the mundane to the profound, and he had known in that moment that he wanted her.
And now, here she was, standing before him in all her naked glory. He could feel the heat radiating off her body, the intoxicating scent of jasmine and sandalwood filling his senses. He stepped closer to her, his fingers tracing a path down her spine, feeling her shiver beneath his touch.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” she whispered, her voice husky and low.
He didn’t need any further invitation. His lips found hers, his tongue delving deep into her mouth as he tasted the sweetness of her kiss. She responded eagerly, her body pressing against his as they explored each other’s mouths with a passion that threatened to consume them both.
His hands roamed over her body, cupping her full breasts and teasing her hard nipples. She moaned softly, her hips grinding against his as she felt the evidence of his desire pressing against her. He slid his hand down her stomach, his fingers finding her wet and ready for him.
“Please,” she begged, her voice barely audible.
