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I want him.
He opens,
and mad longing spills from him,
filling me.
His gaze bruises my lips;
they swell as though crushed
by the weight of his heat.
My heart trembles it's dread-
repaired, but made vulnerable by need.
I tell myself that loneliness moves me,
propelling me into his embrace,
but my soul recognizes the lie
before it fully evolves.
He holds, locked eyes, and looks into me,
as if he's always known me,
missing my presence since before we met.
His lips pull me-
they taunt me.
His hands move and my very being responds;
every nerve strives toward him,
every cell aspires to his touch.
Finally, after eternal waiting,
he takes my face in his hands.
His fingers brush the curve of my jaw,
and I curl into his palm.
I want him.
I want him with a strength that frightens,
lying in wait beneath the desire.
How can it be this way, so soon...
too soon.
His lips take mine, a gentle war,
and i graze his own with my teeth-
we nibble, tug, pull.
Our tongues dance, slowly at first,
and then with mounting tension;
I am lightning touched sand,
he, a shattering resonance of sensation.
He breathes dampness across my neck,
my abodomen jumps, then tightens,
the painful pleasure of yearning flesh.
I want him.
Even through the danger,
stronger than the fear.
I want him.