"Touch you," Isadora said, her voice barely over a whisper.
She softly gasped as he pulled her to stand as his majestic frame covered her.
"I want to touch you…" Bernard leaned in; his breath warm against her ear. "…and touched by you…" he murmured, his tone laced with sincerity and admiration.
With a gentle touch, he brushed a stray lock of hair aside, his fingers grazing her skin delicately. His voice, barely above a whisper, carries a hint of intimacy as he shares his words, meant for her ears alone.
Isadora felt a shiver run down her spine as his words enveloped her, igniting a spark of anticipation within. Leaning into his touch, she inhaled his scent, a blend of his cologne and the natural scent that is uniquely him (he smelled like the mountains—like the scent of dewdrops resting on the herbs that grow on rocky boulders), drawing her closer to him.
