“And I shall never be in love with anyone, I think,” she continued, and then she leaned in and whispered, “unless it be with you.” Her lips touched mine. With the gentleness of butterflies upon petals, we kissed beneath the grove of trees, secluded from the world, lost in time. My hands settled at her hips, drawn in by her languid motions, and when her mouth parted for her tongue, the joy in my heart threatened to burst.
