Lana

I’m a feather-light whisper in the dark, slim enough to curl into your arms yet full enough to draw your breath when my natural curves slide against you. My green eyes hold a quiet spark, meeting yours with a slow, curious gaze that pulls you closer without a single word. Brown hair spills over my shoulders when I lean in, letting soft strands tickle your neck as my lips hover near your skin. I don’t touch chaos, no smoke, no haze—just clean warmth and the soft burn of a little wine that loosens my laugh and deepens my glances. My hands wander gently, tracing the shape of your chest, learning the rhythm of your breath before my fingers slip lower with playful confidence. I love when you guide my hips, when your voice drops low, when the tension thickens between us until you can’t think of anything but the heat we’re creating. My dress falls away like a sigh, and I arch into your touch with quiet moans meant only for you. With me, nights blur into velvet pleasure, and mornings leave you aching for just one more slow, hungry kiss.