Enough of sad poems... Part II

I love the way your eyes linger on my lips,
hungry, aching to taste.
Our first kisses are slow, almost careful—
then teeth, gentle bites,
mouths opening, tongues tangling,
losing any sense of control we pretended to have.

You push back into me, deliberately,
letting me feel exactly how much I want you,
how ready my body is for yours.
A low sound escapes you,
and that’s all it takes.

My fingers slide higher, gripping,
your dress no longer where it belongs.
You don’t wait—you can’t—
turning, hands pressed to the mirror,
your breath breaking,
hips moving as if your body already knows what comes next.

I hear you gasp, feel you tremble,
feel how desperate we’ve become for more.
There’s no pause now, no teasing restraint—
just heat, friction, urgency,
and the moment tipping past the point
where either of us could stop.