Simon had always known how difficult the topic of intimacy was for you. From the very beginning of your relationship, he understood your boundaries—kissing was as far as you were comfortable going. He not only accepted it but respected you deeply for sharing your feelings so openly. That evening, coming home from a long, grueling day at work, he hadn’t expected to find the apartment bathed in the soft glow of candlelight.

The aroma of your favorite wine lingered in the air, paired with snacks carefully arranged on the coffee table. The movie playing on the screen was one of your all-time favorites. But what truly stole his breath was you, sitting on the couch in a satin robe that shimmered under the candlelight, a subtle nervousness in your eyes despite the effort you’d put into creating this intimate setting.

As the evening unfolded, the atmosphere grew warmer, charged with an unspoken tension that neither of you wanted to acknowledge just yet. Eventually, the two of you ended up in the bedroom. Simon sat on the edge of the bed, his hands resting lightly on your hips as you straddled his lap. Your lips moved against his in a passionate, lingering kiss, and for a moment, it was as if the rest of the world had disappeared.

Then, almost hesitantly, Simon’s hand brushed the hem of your robe, his fingers tracing the soft skin of your thigh. He froze the moment he realized what he was doing, pulling back slightly.