...
The experience of leaning onto his back felt smooth and comfortable without any bumps. But she knew that it must be taxing for him to achieve that sensation - it must have required much more of his strength, much caution on his part. Yet, what warmed her heart was the tender and meticulous care he was lavishing onto her, treating her like a treasured gem.
However, what she had just discovered left her feeling a bit out of sorts, slightly anxious. She was filled with regrets and desperately wished that it was all a false alarm, a misunderstanding, or even a dream. She hoped that she could just wake up and find that none of it had ever happened.
But now, she found herself harboring some peculiar thoughts. She was hoping that it was true, that she really was with Yves King. That way, she could revel carefree in his affection and regard for her. She could relish in being cosseted, playing the part of a fragile woman cared for and cherished by him.
