"Her" and "Him" stand in stark contrast, their bodies bathed in the soft moonlight streaming through the window. She, a delicate, porcelain doll, he, a rugged, chiseled sculpture. Their eyes meet, a silent understanding passing between them. He reaches out, his hand cupping her cheek, his thumb brushing her lips. She leans into his touch, her eyes fluttering closed. He takes this as his cue, his hands exploring her body, his touch feather-light yet firm. She gasps, her body arching towards him, her hands fisting his hair. He smiles, a wolfish grin, his hands slipping under her nightgown, his fingers finding her wet, waiting center. She moans, her body trembling as he brings her to the edge, then pushes her over, his name a whispered prayer on her lips.