"Every Time He Touched Me, It Felt Like the First Time All Over Again" Part 2

"The room was quiet, but their hearts were loud. He touched her like she was a secret he'd waited a lifetime to unlock—slow, reverent, and full of quiet longing. Each kiss wasn't rushed, but held like a prayer between breaths. His hands moved with purpose, not just to take, but to give—to remind her of the softness she forgot she deserved. Her body responded like it already knew him, like it had always belonged to the rhythm of his warmth. They didn't need words. Every sigh, every pause, every brush of skin spoke the kind of love that aches in silence and heals in touch. It wasn't just sex—it was coming home to each other, again and again, all through the night."