How dare he? How dare he look at me like this? So sensual, so thoughtless and full of thought at the same time. He’s reckless and hungry and I want to feed him. His mind is lost. Completely somewhere else. Yet the moment he see’s me I can feel him. His eyes all over me. Touching me with his glances and his soft smiles accompanied by reminiscent moments stolen here and there. Times of full blown passion leading to pain and heartache upon leaving one another’s grip. Because that’s what it is. He has a hold of me like no one ever has. He’s become my vice and he knows it. He’s tragically flawed with the negative ability to show emotion to me and only me. He cannot do it. He is sworn to a different life than mine. Though we are more than compatible he is incapable of true love. His heart lies with another yet he lies in body with me. He’s told me no one has ever turned him on the way I do. With my words, my imagination, my lips, my thoughts and my deeds have created a need with in him that only I can fulfill but it’s lost to the wolves of the daily shame and drudgery that we call life. As unfortunate as it is, it is in fact the truth.
His kisses have left me drained and thirsty. Craving him. Wanting him like no other. I awoke with him. He activated me. Grasping at happiness in a cruel world is what we were both doing and we found it physically and mentally. The need, the shear need was met. It was felt through every avenue, every direction under the same moon and stars even when we weren’t together. From spoken words to written thoughts, it was met. From touches and looks across the room, it was met. From a simple hand on my thigh it was met. His touch left my skin incinerated. He set me ablaze just by looking at me, like he is right now. He knows what he does to me. He knows how I feel about him and he uses it. And I don’t care because I want him. I want those scalding lips on mine. I want those day dreaming eyes to ignite me as he walks to me as he stops just before me and looks at me like he may never see me again and his hands cup my cheeks and I feel the blood rushing though me as my heart pumps it so quickly. I am parched for him as he leans in to kiss me. His breath is warm against me, his body smolders in front of me and I can’t take it. I push up to him and our lips me. I am cauterized at that moment. My wounds that were open and bleeding for him are healing with his touch and his kiss. Oh those lips. Those devilishly, divine, delicious lips. Never have I tasted anything so honeyed. So gentle and savage at the same time. Our passion was more than intense, it was enraged.
And there he sits looking at me like this. His hand in front of his mouth like that as if he were sucking it with those same furiously fierce lips that have taken me down against my will. That look. That look I have seen and responded to even when I tried my hardest not to. Oh he knows. He knows exactly what he’s doing and he likes it. I swear he gets off on it. Just to know he can unravel me like he does. Why else would he do it? Staring at me so provocatively provoking an animalistic response inside of me that I cannot ignore. My body feels like its had a match set to it. He has seduced me with his eyes. A look so suggestive that it’s only purpose is for an invitation. Come hither doesn’t even come close to it. He has already undressed me, kissed me from head to toe and stopped in a few certain places and enjoyed them all with that look. He means business with that look. And he knows, I will deliver on my end as well. We were meant for this. The back and forth, the word play and the fore play. The actual theatrical part of it too. From the dramatics or the watching from the box seats. It all depends on where you want to see it from. And right now, I see it from the fire lit by just one look.