There is a hunger in his caress, a search in his fingers as they glide over your skin. You arch into the touch, unable to do anything else, incapable of challenging his command. He traces your lips, a question in his fingertips—your answer is opening your mouth in a sigh.

He smiles, nipping your neck. You never could refuse him—never really wanted to refuse him. He is your hope attained, given flesh and blood and life; he is all you have dreamt of, all you have longed for, all you imagined. He is beautiful and you bend beneath him, hand pressed to his heart. The beat is strong and calming, his body heating yours.

This is all you need, this night with him. Nothing else, nothing more. If you never have anything else, this fleeting moment will be enough.

He smiles at you, hands tight and warm. His touch says love in a way his voice never will.

You submit, submersing yourself in him, saying love in return. You give him all you have, all you are, for this one, too-short night.

He'll be gone with the dawn. Maybe forever. He can promise you nothing, and you ask for no oath. His body, his skin, against yours speaks—he would stay, if there were any way.

You give him everything; by his kiss, you know it is enough.