Temptation was the inhale.
There was charcoal in his eyes, ashes from the darkness burning within him. And the longer I held his gaze, the clearer I saw my own sins – my demons no longer hiding.
As he approached, I was breathless from his squared shoulders and narrowed eyes, as if the lust aching under my skin was a challenge to be conquered. His musk dark and leather, he controlled my senses; every sound drowned out from his lips parting.
I watched as he wavered. Deciding.
His strong hesitation – his increasing strangled breath, the conflicting light and darkness in his eyes – were more sensual against my skin than his fingertips; his lingering presence, the tension in his neck, and need radiating off his body better than skin on skin.
His temptation was war. His surrender was our mutual victory. His breath, his want, his demons filling his lungs to their capacity.
Impact was the exhale.
The first thing I sought was his shoulders, as his lips had already found me. And the darkness in his eyes shifted to his touch, his kiss deepening with every heartbeat, arousing my demons.
Everything went out of focus. There was the sensation of his shirt linen against his shoulders. The heat of breath forcing itself harshly through his nose. The traces of his fingertips at my neck and scalp, soundless words spilling through the curves of his mouth against mine.
And then, once again, there was the inhale.
There was now a haze, a pause in existence, his linger returning. And though our lips were no longer joined, we were also no longer separated. Something had transpired between his demons and mine.
The charcoal in his eyes smoldered down to my skin, the fire still within us both, but no longer suffocating us. In this intimate distance I could see the light and darkness still strangled in his eyes; the tension in his neck and shoulders ebbing and flowing in waves of lust and surrender.
And I knew he was mine – not from his own weakness, and not from my own coercion, but because our breath was no longer separated, his and mine.
.
.
.
by Deidrea DeWitt
(2.10.23)