I need you.

I need you here, in my bed, your hands traveling over my feet and ankles, my calves, the notches behind my knees.

I need your face to follow, lips skimming the tops of my toes and the arches of my feet, tongue trailing along my Achilles’ tendon, tender bites where I’m most vulnerable.

I need your face in my sex, the dampness glossing your chin and your moans humming into me.

I need a fistful of your hair, the reins as I ride your jaw, arching until your neck is aching and my body is splitting with desire.

I need to howl and curse you, then beg you, then curse you again.

I need to crumble, hoarse and raggedly undone, into the sheets and into your arms and, oh, just once more, it’s pouring through me still …

I need you.



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