Moss & Moonlight
The ancient oak loomed like a jealous lover in the fog-shrouded heart of the forest, its twisted bark scraping deliciously against Esme's bare back as she shoved Alice harder into the rough embrace, their bodies slick with the night's dew and the raw heat building between them. The air hummed with the musk of wet soil and crushed ferns, a primal perfume that fueled the fire in their veins—immortal, insatiable, far from the suffocating civility of Forks. Moonlight sliced through the branches like silver knives, gilding their flawless skin in a glow that made every curve and hollow beg to be devoured. Alice's mouth claimed Esme's with a savage growl, tongues battling in a wet, filthy tangle that tasted of forbidden want and eternity's edge. Her lithe body pinned the taller woman with feral insistence, small hands clawing at Esme's hips, nails raking red trails that healed in seconds but left echoes of ecstasy. Esme's skirt was a ruined tangle around her thig...
