quite taken
Your back arches to catch the glow of the candlelight: skin glistens gold with sweat.
My hands follow the curve of your waist. Your shoulder blade rises, protrudes, points straight back at me.
You know our rule: don't stick it out unless you want my mouth on it.
The salt taste of skin between my teeth. A shudder of response, a moan hints at more. Your sounds drive me crazy. A nibble teases and hardens into a bite.
I know you love to wear the mark of my mouth. You want to feel as though you've earned it. Your back, your shoulders, the curve of your neck.
With a handful of hair I pull your head back. My cheek presses against yours. Now those shoulder blades dig back into my chest. My lungs breathe deep against a hot bruise.
Tell me again... you know I could never forget, but tell me again.