Meet me in the haze, in the dreaming, the in-between, in the delicate light of dawn, in the ivory tangle of our lust-drenched sheets, in the body sensual, the fusion electric, the woman shaking beneath as you drive our hunger deep, as you plunder her dripping sex with the fire of your need, the one who craves each night and day your sweet possession, the violent rush of your creamy sin, the passion exquisite and crazed, the souls unveiled and craving together, always.
It was nothing more than a hiss, nothing more than the smallest of sounds, a rush of breath, the fire expelled with seductive force from between his clenched teeth and parted lips as I sighed and arched my back, rising up from the warmth of the boards barely an inch, splaying with false but steady serenity the long slender line of my legs, creamy thighs betraying only the slightest of tremors as they floated and drifted, my hips a swaying and open invitation, eager to hypnotise, mesmerise, to lure him into our frenzied and perfecting fusion.
It was nothing more than a hiss, nothing more than the smallest of sounds, and yet it was absolutely everything, the unabashed signifier of his passion, the man who had crawled his way under my skin, the need that trembled before me his once immovable frame, the craving for a taste of my sensual intimacy, the wantonness that tormented night and day his lusting body, that hardened his flesh and melted his gaze, that announced to the room and the world outside I am his, that compelled him to close the cruel space between us, that led his voracious hands to my ache, sliding up and around me, each touch another vulnerable link, his cock pressed hard, the grind of want on sodden mesh, the wetness, the flood only he can truly inspire and the lips, the lips, my lips, the lips of my honeyed cunt and glistening mouth, they betray me again, with his name and my whimper and my silent confessions, with the hiss, with my hiss, with the hiss, with our crushing kiss as he buries himself purely, sinfully, deep.
To have you here, lover. To hold your ache between my lips. The lightness of your being etched deep into my sensual flesh. The intensity that stirs your soul, a sheen upon this skin. The gaze that reveals it all to me, that veils you once more in mystery. The kiss that maps the bright, its home these silken hollows. The utterance that guards the dark, the wanton shadows craved.
In her sensual arc, he receives the sigh, the burnish of the sun on her skin, the piquancy of her wetness, the sweetness of her perfume, the desire that burns through flesh and bone, the need for his breath soft against her nakedness, for the hands and his touch and their landfall, for the caress along the grain, along the curves now trembling, aching for his uniquely perfecting form.
For they both know, it is his voice, the deep accented timbre, the gaze of his desire, his commands that bind her and bind her to him absolutely, that leave her breathless, trembling, that guide her slender wrists to rest obediently in the small of her back, that speak directly to the skin silently screaming for the indelible trace of his touch, to the supple body aching to submit, to be bound, to buck wildly, arch and strain against the ropes as he takes her, fucks her, claims her, as his mouth feasts ferociously on the slickness of her sex, as he buries his thick hard cock inside her so deep, her sweet cunt bares the imprint of his flesh, his name.