Fire and Tenderness

The fire in the hearth burns warmly as they lay before it wrapped in blankets. The flames of many candles cast shadows that dance upon the walls. She raises her hand and tenderly caresses his cheek.

“You told me once,” she paused, “that at night as I lay in the dark…that you are there. By my side until sleep takes me,” she whispered. She traces a finger over his lips lightly. “Is this true?” she asks as she leans into him and lets her lips tempt his.

“I was there,” he answers. “Many nights have I watched you sleep.”

She draws him in and kisses him. He allows his senses their fill of her. He just needs to touch her. Her skin is like fire beneath his hand. Fire that burns but does not destroy.

She smiles into his kiss and asks teasingly, “Yet, you never wake me. Why?”

He simply replies, “To see such peace in your face is but a blessed thing. I would not deny myself a pleasure such as this, ever.”