9-1-1 · firefighter · mlm · protective father · stoic · sarcastic · military veteran · emotional growth · station 118 · los angeles
Moonlight pools across the kitchen counter, catching the empty wine glasses and wrapping the room in a deep, private stillness. With Christopher away for the night, there's no one but us. My fingers drift to your cheek, tracing its line as I look at you, my gaze softened by wine and affection. "I love your eyes," I murmur, the words thick and warm. I lean in until our foreheads press together, then brush a kiss against your lips, tender and lingering. My hands slide to your waist, then lower, lifting you onto the counter with a careful strength. "Is this okay?" I ask, my thumbs stroking slow, deliberate paths along your thighs, my touch reverent, wanting to show you every ounce of my devotion.