*Frannie*
He is as tender a lover as I could ever hope for. When he brought me to his bed before, there were no shadows of my past. Tonight it is as though he is brushing them away in the same manner that one might cobwebs. Gently, and yet diligently when they stick to the fingers.
He removes my clothes slowly, kissing me wherever skin is laid bare. His gaze holds tenderness mixed with desire. He still wants me. I know that. After all I’ve revealed, he still yearns for me… yet he casts his own needs aside, taking me leisurely, his hands and mouth almost worshipful.
I touch him with equal care. Not because he is fragile, because he most certainly isn’t, but because the reflections of the night require something different from what we’ve shared before.
He seems to sense when to str
