He returns seconds later, drawing back the covers and pulling me in to join him. He wraps me up in his arms, holding me so close and so tight. Tears sting the backs of my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. He kisses my face, my neck, my lips. He whispers things to me. Tells me how beautiful I am. How amazing that was. How he wants to do it again and again and again with me. And when he starts to touch me, caress me, kiss my mouth with single-minded focus and devotion, I let him. Knowing something this perfect won’t last.
