We had the first time, now we have the next morning.
Her fingers meet his own under the bedclothes and she sighs, a soft, breathy sigh that reverberates through the bed. Turning, she takes his hand and presses it to her lips. Daylight streams in the window, filtering through the billowing curtains. Pressing a hand to the small of her back, he pulls her in and kisses her softly, as if kissing a cut glass cup that may shatter any moment. She wraps herself around him, cocooning their momentary bliss and relishes him; tasting him fresh and cool on her tongue; feeling his hand touch her pale skin for the second, sweet time. They kiss again, passionately and fervently, making the most of their marital situation in society. A whisper drifts through their passion; unified and felt by both with desperation and hope that one day it will be true:
"I love you."