The night folds around us, thick and slow,
a velvet hush where shadows grow.
Lying still, breath soft and deep,
we slip between the seams of sleep.

But then—your heat, a phantom near,
not yet a touch, but close, so clear.
The space between us hums and aches,
a charged and waiting storm to break.

Your breath, a whisper at my nape,
drifting warm, but keeping shape.
Not yet kissing, not yet pressed,
just teasing air upon my flesh.

Your fingers hover, never land,
a ghostly tide, a fevered hand.
Tracing near but not yet mine,
circling slow along my spine.

I arch, I shift, I seek, I sigh,
but still, you hover, passing by.
A palm so near between my thighs,
but never touching, never tries.

I burn, I beg, my body pleads,
but still, you only plant the seeds.
A brush of breath along my ear,
a whispered promise—hot and near.

The waiting pulses, thick and tight,
a hunger blooming in the night.
I grip the sheets, I bite my lip,
my body writhes beneath your grip—

Though you don’t touch. Not yet. Not now.
You keep your distance, draw it out.
A single finger down my chest,
but stopping short before it’s blessed.

I moan, I curse, I shift, I yearn,
your torment makes my body burn.
Each moment stretched, each second tight,
a thousand sparks that beg for light.

And then—at last—a graze, a press,
your lips descend, your hands confess.
A stroke, a drag, a molten kiss,
a slow and aching spiral bliss.

Your weight, your warmth, you sink, you tease,
your heat between, yet still you please.
Your hardness pressing, slick and slow,
gliding where my rivers flow.

A thrust, so patient, deep and wide,
I gasp, I quake, I open wide.
A slide, a stretch, a filling heat,
your rhythm slow, intense, complete.

And deeper still, you drown me whole,
our bodies lost, entwined, controlled.
A rolling tide, a steady pull,
a pleasure rich, a pleasure full.

You draw me out, then push me in,
a cycle endless, slow, again.
My fingers clutch, my nails dig deep,
as tension coils, too tight to keep.

And when I break—oh, when I break—
the flood explodes, the heavens shake.
A shattering, a liquid fire,
a wave that builds and climbs up higher.

Again, again, you push, you take,
until I’ve nothing left to break.
And still, you hold me, still you move,
until I’m lost, undone, consumed.

The night around us, thick and slow,
a velvet hush where pleasures grow.
Two bodies spent, yet burning bright—
a craving met in deepest night.