The room is dimly lit, illuminated only by the faint light filtering through the curtains. The air between you is dense, charged with something that has taken too long to arrive. You feel the heat of his gaze tracing over you, as if he wants to memorize every detail before touching you.

His hands tremble as they rest on your arms, moving over your skin with an almost reverent slowness. The tenderness in his touch makes a knot form in your throat. You press yourself closer to him, seeking more, and when his lips finally meet yours, everything dissolves into a whirlwind of emotions.

The kiss is slow, exploratory, full of promises. His fingers trail down your back, mapping every inch of you with a gentleness that unravels you. There is no rush in his movements; he wants to discover you, to savor you, to make you understand just how much he has longed for this.

When he pulls away, his breathing is uneven. His dark eyes shine with something more than desire—there is devotion in the way he looks at you.

“Let me see you” he murmurs, then lowers his head, his lips brushing your jaw before trailing down to your neck.

You feel his warm breath against your skin before the first kiss lands.He sighs as he takes in your scent then smiles when he finds a small beauty mark on your collarbone.

“I’ve always loved this” he whispers before pressing a delicate kiss there.

His lips continue their path, leaving a trail of slow, burning kisses.When he finds a scar along your side, he pauses. His lips brush over it, his breath fanning across your skin as he speaks.

“You are perfect,” he says with a reverence that steals the air from your lungs. “Every part of you.”

He keeps going, kissing every place where you once doubted your beauty. To him, you are a masterpiece, and he wants to prove it with every touch, every whisper. When he finally looks up at you, you see it. The flushed face, the lips swollen from every kiss he’s left on your skin,the dark eyes reflecting something unreadable.