She craved touch and physical comfort. She always had, for as long as she could remember. She’d longed to be held, soothed, caressed. It was never as perfect in reality as in her hungry daydreams, but that didn’t hinder the longing.
And so although she knew he would hold her if she asked, she didn’t dare. How easy it was, when her desires were catered to, for her to overlook a multitude of sins and incompatibilities, just to feel someone’s arms around her for a short time.
She wouldn’t dare ask him to hold her, although there was nothing she wanted more.