He touched her like he was learning her for the first time. Not the confident, knowing strokes of a long-term lover, but the tentative, reverent exploration of a stranger. He brushed the hair from her neck, then let his palm rest flat against her throat, just feeling her pulse. She shivered.
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Time softened. The music drifted. There was no goal, no finale they were racing toward. There was only the rediscovery of a single truth: that the most familiar body can still feel like a miracle. That nervous laughter is just as intimate as moans. That stopping to look into each other’s eyes for too long is not a pause—it is the act itself. He touched her like he was learning her for the first time