Burning Bright.

My senses have been deprived for far too long. My appetite is ravenous for the one my my soul is bonded with.

Sometimes I wonder if He feels the same. Sometimes I wonder if His fire for me burns as intently as mine does for Him. My wick never falters. Never dies. Never wanes. It burns bright. Devouring the oxygen to feed the flame. To feed my need. To feed my want.

The fire blazes through my veins. So fierce I would expect my bones to shake and rattle with the intensity. So ferocious I’m surprised my flesh isn’t melting off my bones into simmering, smoldering, smoking, puddles.

Does He know? Does He know how brightly my light shines for Him? Like the sun lights the day? For that light, that burning, brilliant light is so mighty, so unyielding that even in the dead of night the moon reflects its rays. That is a whispered testament to what I feel for Him.

And now, I crave Him.

I don’t want to be taken. Not tonight. Tonight I want to feel His presence wash over me like the cooling waves of the ocean on a midsummer day. Tonight I want to feel His touch like a breeze tickling my cheek on an evening when the sun starts its descent. Tonight I want to feel His closeness. To hear his heart beating in tandem with mine. Thudding against our chests as we sit knee to knee. Nose to nose.

I want to make love — sweet, passionate, heated, love.

It would start with His fingers tracing my features. Running the pad of His pointer down my temples, over my eyelids, down the bridge of my nose. My breathing would hitch as He lined my trembling lips. Successfully building the tension higher, higher, higher.

My own fingers would begin their own journey. Seeking out the hem of His shirt and slipping underneath. I just want to feel His skin on my own. Bare. I would hold my gaze with His. Find His stare and hold it as my palms would move over His abdomen, to His chest. I would hold my quivering hands over His heart. Feeling the solid beating thrum against me.

We would shift closer to the other. Our noses almost touching. Our lips tauntingly near. A lean and a purse would have us colliding…but not yet. The tension hasn’t built up enough.

He would pull my shirt over my head in a smooth gesture. He wants to see all of me. Even the parts I want to hide —especially the parts I want to hide. He would lean down and kiss my tummy. The tummy that would be concaved and sucked in as tightly as it could possibly be.

“Breathe.”

I would obey the quiet command — my entire body relaxing at the word. He would kiss His way up. Flicking that devilish tongue over my peaked nipples. My body would be His. In that moment, and all the ones before, I would belong to Him and Him alone.

My own hands would tug at His shirt. Wanting — needing it off. He would oblige. The material wafting to join mine on the carpet beside us.

He would continue to stoke the embers with his gentle lips. With his roaming fingertips. My body yielding to Him in a way only He has trained it to do. The wetness between my legs would build. My breathing would turn ragged as His lips trailed where they may.

The heat would build as we explored each other’s bodies. It would build to scorching temperatures. Until we could handle it no longer and shed our pants. With it our undergarments.

Sitting across from each other naked. Beholding the other with long looks of adoration. The heat radiating from both of us, permeating the room, stifling the air.

We would continue the touching. Resume the exploring kisses. Making sure to take my turn with Him — the hardness growing between his legs harder, and harder to ignore. (hehehe)

Finally — at long last — our lips would find the other’s. They would meld in a synchronized rhythm. Our tongues dancing to a melody only we know. Our grasps would morph into something more desperate. Frantic. As though we wouldn’t be able to get enough. As though each moment was going by too fast, and each one previous could be our last. Our fires roaring to extreme heights. Our flames mixing and melding — creating a mosaic of whites, oranges, reds, blues.

And then…we would make love.

Sweet. Passionate. Heated. Love.