She turns just enough to catch you staring, a knowing smile pulling at the corner of her mouth. Small frame, soft curves, that particular angle where her lower back dips before rounding into something that holds your attention longer than you planned.

Your hands would fit perfectly there — thumbs pressing into the hollow above her hips while she arches back into you, closing every inch of distance between you.

She already knows what you want. The glance over her shoulder says she wants it too, harder than you'd expect from someone who looks this delicate.