I can feel it in the way he shakes.
In the heat pulsing out of him.
In the way he falls into me,
shoulders curling between my thighs.
His body’s got nowhere else to go but into mine.
Helpless, but he licks through it, still starving.
I'm trembling,
catching fire from the outside in.
An orgasm crawls up?—
scared to leave, desperate to stay?—
not wanting him to stop or pull back.
“Drew—” I can’t breathe around it.
My body’s on the edge of coming or crying.
Then his mouth slides away,
and he kisses along the outline of me,
tongue tracing the crease, from thigh to lip,
teasing the edges with a slow halo of wet heat,
buying himself time,
letting me come down a notch.
“Piano… piano… fammi restare…”
He spills the words into my skin,
and my heaving chest stutters into steady.
Then his mouth’s crawling back to me,
all lips, teeth, tongue.
The climbing orgasm never left.
It just crouched low, waiting,
ready to pounce the second he started again.
My mind’s going fuzzy.
My fingers rake his thick hair.
His gaze drifts up and crashes into mine?—
