𝒜𝓊𝓉𝒽ℴ𝓇’𝓈 𝒫𝒪𝒱

He doesn’t rush you, today. That’s the first thing you notice. The way his hands settle on your thighs like he’s grounding himself, like this moment deserves patience. His gaze stays low, focused, intent, as if he’s memorizing every reaction before he even touches you.

“You have no idea,” he murmurs, voice soft but heavy with meaning, “how long I’ve wanted to do this properly.”

You feel the heat of him before you feel his hands. The slow slide of his palms upward, reverent, unhurried as if he’s proving a point with every inch of space he closes.

He leans in, breath warm, words quieter now. “Let me,” he says. Not a request but a promise.

A promise to make you feel good today.