The lights were soft, the windows closed,
Outside, the world was hushed, composed.
Inside, her hands knew where to roam—
Every inch of me felt like home.

The sheets were warm, her skin was more,
Like sunlight flooding through the door.
She didn’t rush—she simply stayed,
As if my heart was something prayed.

She looked at me like I was rare,
As if my breath was sacred air.
And when she kissed my collarbone,
I swear I’d never felt alone.

Her voice was velvet, low and sweet,
She murmured love between each beat.
Not just desire—though that ran deep—
But something soft I longed to keep.

She touched me like I’d asked for grace,
Her fingertips a warm embrace.
No part of me she left untouched,
And everything she gave was much.

I arched beneath her steady care,
My name escaping everywhere.
But even when I broke in cries,
She held me close—no need to hide.

I tasted her with aching love,
Each moan she gave, a gift thereof.
Not just to take, but to be near—
To show her that I see you, dear.

We moved as one, both slow and deep,
The kind of love that doesn’t sleep.
Her fingers laced with mine in time,
Our breaths in sync, our hearts aligned.

And after, wrapped in tangled grace,
She brushed the hair back from my face.
Her lips were soft against my brow—
“You’re safe with me. You’re mine. Right now.”