She leans back against the wall, chest forward, daring you to look away. The weight of her is undeniable — full, heavy, the kind that pulls your attention and holds it there without apology.
Your hands move before your mind catches up. Fingers spread wide, palms pressing into warm skin, and still there's more spilling over the edges. She watches your face while you figure out exactly what you've gotten yourself into.
She already knows your hands aren't quite enough. That slow smile tells you she's enjoyed this moment before — the precise second someone realizes the title wasn't exaggerating.
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