"Независимо от того, сколько раз, он все равно заставляет мое сердце спотыкаться, как это наш первый"

His touch is never rushed, never routine. Even after countless nights wrapped in each other, he still moves like he's discovering me for the first time — eyes full of wonder, hands reverent, lips tracing every breath I take. The way he slides his fingers down my skin, slow and knowing, sends heat pooling deep in my core. When our bodies meet, it's not just about pleasure — it's the ache of longing, the sweetness of trust, the thrill of being seen. Every time he enters me, it's like a whisper and a promise — and I gasp, as if it's our first night all over again. My body remembers him, but still trembles like it's new. He doesn't need words. His quiet moans, his tightened grip, the way his breath catches when I arch — they say everything. With him, even silence is seductive. And in that silence, he makes me fall for him again... and again... and again.