𝐏𝐎𝐕 𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐑𝐎The air in her room is heavier, hotter, as if the space itself knows something is about to happen.The silk curtains move slowly with the night breeze, and the moonlight draws silver shadows across the wooden floor. Each breath I take seems to echo in that small, intimate space that smells of her — flowers, something sweet, something I would spend the rest of my life trying to name.I spent days planning every step to get here.Every night I lay down imagining what it would be like to have her beneath me, her hair spread across the pillow, her breath uneven, her body opening to me like a secret only I would have the privilege of knowing.But in all my plans — and I am a man who plans everything, every move, every contingency — in all the fantasies that fueled my days and nights, I never — never — imagined that she would be the one to come first.She is on the bed, the white nightgown having ridden up s
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