The familiar scent of his cologne, a blend of sandalwood and sea salt, hit her the moment the door swung inward, a wave of memory that made her knees weaken. His strong arms encircled her waist, pulling her agat the solid warmth of his chest, erasing the lonely months in an tant. She tilted her head back, her lips parting in a silent invitation that he accepted without hesitation, his mouth claiming hers in a deep, searching kiss that tasted of longing and promise. His hands slid from her back, fingers splaying to cup the curve of her hips, pressing her firmly into the hard line of his body. A low moan vibrated in her throat as she felt the evidence of his desire, a thrilling pressure that promised so much more. The wool of his jacket was rough agat her palms as she clung to his shoulders, her own thin blouse offering no barrier to the heat of his skin. He broke the kiss only to trail his lips along the column of her throat, his breath a hot caress that sent shivers cascading down her spine. In the dim hallway, surrounded by the silent witness of their home, every touch was amplified, every sigh a symphony of reconnection. This was the bliss of return, a perfect, private celebration written in the language of touch and whispered breath.
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