Peniel
His lips press harder against mine, his hands moving over my skin, tracing every curve as though he's committing me to memory. Heat blooms under his touch, every part of me drawn to him until I can hardly breathe. I gasp, pulling away just slightly, and feel his hands pause, his chest rising.
Then, in a voice so soft it almost disappears into the night, he murmurs, “I love you, Peniel." His lips brush mine as he says it, his eyes still closed as if he's afraid to see my reaction.
The words fall like stones into the space between us, heavy and full of meaning, snapping me out of whatever trance I was in. My eyes flutter open, my mind catching up with the moment. His voice wasn't just soft. It was a sound with a tenderness I hadn't expected from a man who’s like an angelic outside,
