Your hands find me in the dark,
familiar,
possessive,
as if they’ve memorized every inch of me,
the way I tremble when you’re close.

I don’t need words to know you’re near—
the heat between us
burns brighter than anything spoken.
I feel your pulse,
your fingertips carving paths
over my skin
like they’re craving something deeper,
something wild.

We move together—
slow, but urgent,
like the anticipation of a storm
gathering inside me.
Each kiss ignites something darker,
each breath a promise,
until the world blurs,
and I can’t tell
where you end
and I’m lost in you.

There’s no gentleness in this—
only hunger,
a desperate need that pulses with every touch,
every shift of your body
pressing harder,
deeper.
You taste me,
and I melt into you,
consumed by the rhythm of our bodies,
our desires folding into one.

The world outside disappears,
nothing but the thrum of your pulse
and the heat between us,
where we move as one,
bound by nothing but the need to feel
each other,
to be consumed by the fire we’ve started.