Tender Trap

Your taste rolls upon my tongue. It lingers, faintly exotic...teasing, imploring me to trail the same path across your skin again. Sated, we lie in each other's arms, your hair a curtain spread across the two of us. My finger tugs gently at a wayward lock that curls against my cheek.

Your finger upon my lips tells me words are not needed right now. As if I could not read that message in your eyes for myself. Can I help it if I am completely distracted by that too full mouth of yours and long for it to burst like ripe fruit against my tongue? Bruise it a soft shade of crimson with my own? Ahhhh...but haven't I done that a hundred times already this evening? Each kiss eliciting the tiniest shock deep within you as my teeth delicately run the length of your throat.

The smallest details fascinate me - the way your smile starts out slowly, playing hide and seek upon your lips like a child until it blooms fully...the way you idly run your fingers down your arm and pull gently at your lower lip with your teeth when you are lost in thought. That slight hesitation that furrows your brow and the way the tip of your tongue catches between your teeth when you speak. I love to watch the subtle parade of moods shift across your face, all caught in the fraction of a second. I have learned to anticipate each nuance of shadow and light that illuminates it.

And each night with you brings some small, new treasure. I love that tiny pulse that beats savagely under the pale skin of your throat, the heat that my hands draw off you as they pass over your skin; the gasp that stops your breath when I touch you; the press of your leg as it catches between my own

The coolness of the night moves over us and I can feel the slight shiver creep across your flesh. Drawing me down to hover over you, I sense anticipation brush between us like a whisper as my hands take yours captive with my own. Love is a tender trap...and your capture this evening sweet beyond your knowing...