By admin 
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The moment Rob stepped into the room, I felt it—the shift in the air, the subtle tension that had been building for months, if not years. He was always there, always a familiar presence, but tonight, something was different. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I knew the evening had taken a turn into uncharted territory.
We’d always been close. Best friends’ sibling, the kind of relationship built on comfort and easy laughter. But tonight, as we stood side by side in the soft glow of the living room, I could feel the distance between us wasn’t as clear-cut as it used to be. It was almost like everything I had buried beneath the surface was surfacing—unspoken things, moments that had always hovered but never been addressed.
“Erin,” Rob said, his voice low, his gaze a little too intense for just friendly conversation. It made my stomach flutter in a way I hadn’t expected. “Are you okay?”
I nodded, but the words felt hollow. I wasn’t sure what I was anymore—not with him standing this close, not with the way his eyes lingered on me. He was the same Rob, but everything about the way he looked at me had shifted.
“I’m fine,” I said, forcing my voice to sound steady. But I wasn’t fine. Not anymore.
I turned away slightly, unable to meet his eyes, but I could feel his presence like a constant pull, keeping me tethered to the moment.
He closed the gap between us without a word, his body warmth now just inches from mine. There was something slow, deliberate about the way he moved. I could feel the heat radiating from him, the quiet confidence he exuded, and it made my pulse race in a way I couldn’t control.
When he reached up to brush a lock of hair from my face, I could’ve sworn I felt a shift in the room—everything seemed to narrow, to focus on that one gesture, that one simple act. His hand lingered for a fraction of a second longer than necessary. My skin tingled from the touch, my breath catching in my throat.
“Erin,” he said again, his voice low, like he was testing the air, like he was choosing his words carefully, but his eyes told me everything. “I don’t want to keep pretending.”
I wasn’t sure what he meant at first. But then, his eyes dropped to my lips, and it became clear. There was no mistaking what was happening. I could feel the tension building between us, an almost magnetic pull that neither of us could resist anymore.
I took a breath, suddenly aware of how close we were, the space between us almost too much to bear. I wanted to say something—anything—but the words seemed inadequate. So instead, I leaned in just slightly, my lips brushing his in the softest of touches.
It wasn’t a kiss that came with fireworks or grand gestures. It was quiet, delicate, like it was something we both had been waiting for without even knowing how to name it. But the moment his lips met mine, everything inside me tightened, something I hadn’t realized had been coiled in me for far too long.
Rob didn’t pull away. His hand moved slowly to the back of my neck, his fingers grazing my skin, a soft pressure that made me lean into him instinctively. His lips parted slightly, and the kiss deepened, slow and deliberate. I could feel his breath against my mouth, each breath a little quicker than the last, and it stirred something deep inside of me.
There were no rushed movements, no need to hurry. It was just him and me, two people who had known each other for years, and yet it felt like we were just now starting to truly discover one another. His hands traced down my back, pulling me closer, and I let him, my body responding almost without thought. The feel of his chest against mine, the heat of his skin, everything about him seemed to align with something inside me that had been waiting.
When he broke the kiss, I was left breathless. His forehead pressed against mine, and for a moment, we just stood there, the world outside fading away. I could feel the weight of his gaze on me, intense and searching, like he was asking if I was ready for whatever came next. My heart pounded, and every inch of me screamed yes, but I couldn’t speak the words. Not yet.
His hands moved to the buttons of my blouse, slow, careful, as if he were giving me the choice to stop, to turn back. But I didn’t want to stop. I didn’t want any of this to end. The moment his hands grazed my skin, I felt a shiver run through me, an electricity that hummed through my veins.
I didn’t hesitate to help him. My fingers found the fabric of his shirt, pulling it over his head, exposing his chest to the dim light. I let my hands roam over his skin, feeling the strength of him beneath my touch. The roughness of his chest hair, the warmth of his body—it was all so real, so tangible.
When his hands slid down my back and gently undid the clasp of my bra, I couldn’t help the breath that escaped me. It was a moment of vulnerability, but it didn’t feel awkward. It felt natural, as if this was exactly where we were supposed to be.
He paused, his eyes meeting mine, waiting for something. For permission, maybe. Or perhaps, just for the moment to sink in. I didn’t speak. Instead, I closed the distance again, kissing him harder, a silent answer to the question he hadn’t asked aloud.
His hands were on me again, this time with more urgency, his fingers working quickly to remove the final barrier between us. As the last of our clothes fell to the floor, I realized that this wasn’t about rushing to the finish line. It was about the slow build, the exploration, the shared space we had created. It wasn’t just physical—it was emotional, it was deep, and it was entirely ours.
I could feel his breath on my neck, the weight of his body above me, but there was no rush. We moved together slowly, deliberately, as if we were savouring every second of this moment we had waited so long for. And when we finally came together, it wasn’t with a bang, but with a steady rhythm, a connection that felt like it had been waiting to happen for years.