Come closer.
Not in a rush, not yet.
Let the quiet feel you before I do.
Your breath skims my throat,
warm enough to bruise the air,
and I learn your name by the way you hesitate,
by the way you wait for permission
you already know you have.
I like you better like this,
undone by proximity,
thinking too much,
wanting harder than you planned.
Desire looks good on you
when it has nowhere to hide.
My hands are deliberate.
I take my time learning your reactions,
the soft betrayals of your body,
the way control slips without a sound.
There is no need to hurry
when surrender is already kneeling.
Every touch is a promise I intend to keep.
Every pause is a reminder
that I decide when you get more.
You arch into the silence,
aching for the moment I finally close the distance.
When I do,
it is slow and certain and unavoidable.
You melt into it,
into me,
into the truth of how badly you wanted this.
And when the night exhales around us,
heavy with heat and shared breath,
you will realize too late
that I never took anything from you.
You gave it.