"Trust me,"
I start, pinching the tips of your fingers softly.
I hear you give a dreamy sigh,
"I know what Im getting into by loving you, I know what Im doing to myself by loving you."
I hear your breath catch and your hand stops tracing a pattern on my shoulder.
My hand glides down your smooth wrist, and onto your forearm, your shoulder, until it finally rests comfortably on your breast.
"Call me crazy," I declare softly, tweaking a nipple.
You give a soft moan.
"But I love you."
