The slow burn in your eyes gets hotter with every downward stroke of your hand on your cock, and a primal vibration awakens in me, knowing that the fever in you tonight is mine.
I love the way you watch me, watching you.
The hitch in your breath tells me you’re close, and draws my attention to your lips, slightly parted and forming my name with a sensual softness that matches your eyes.
I love the way you look at me, baby. Sultry. Sweet. Seductive.
The way you swell and strain when you stroke yourself for me sends a shiver down my spine. Your pulse, throbbing against your swollen head, triggers an answering thrum inside my womb, and the primal response creates a new heat that sparks recognition in your eyes when they lock on mine.
This view I have, of you, is perfection. Can you feel the weight of my head against the inside of your thigh? The strength of my gaze? The lightness of my breath? The beat of my heart?
I love to watch you.
Your shuttered exhalations escape around the shape of your lips once more, forming my name, and my eyes alight again on your mouth.
My desire is channeled now, and there will be no stopping once I start. One thought alone consumes me: I need those lips on mine.
Take a deep breath, baby.
When I climb up your body, it’s your lips I’m going to ride . . .
. . . FIRST.