Bessa

Heat Of A Male

Mimicry of a body.

Wild...

Needing a minute before my eyes can pry themselves open. Everything is swollen. Tender.

My Silk lays crumbled on the floor.

Naked.

I'm exhausted...

A full glass of water is by the bedside. Within hands reach.

The sweet smell of sex cuts the air nothing else can be scented.

Looking over my shoulder, the Savage has his eyes close.

Content.

I'm not sure if he's sleeping or not.

Shifting in the bed, reaching for the water, taking a few sips.

Fingers touch the base of my spine, walking upwards. Until my hair is pulled tenderly.

"How do you feel?" He takes his own glass of water, swallowing it down in one long gulp.

"Hungry." The condemning spotlight of the day falls against my face when sitting up.

Like a beacon for him. His smile gleams.

"I'm going to make sure you get your fill today."

His eyes travel everywhere.

"Breakfast first." His smile widens. Incidentally.

His eyes curiously stare.

"What?" Saying it defensively.

"Would she like a run today?"

There is no pause.

"Yes." A deep rasp comes from the center of my sternum, more Wild than Skin.

The sound from his chest vibrates around - filling the space of the room.

My thighs clench.

Eyes close.

Opening.

He's standing right in front of me. Naked. Fully exposed.

The Savage's eyes dilate the darkening pupils housed within.

Gleaming.

"What?' He asks, calm.

"Nothing," looking away, embarrassed. Thinking it would be nice to have a taste of him before breakfast. How good it would feel to run my tongue down the length of him.

"Alright if that's what you want, nothing. I'll go make breakfast." Looking at the floor, he searches for something.

Picking up his pants, he puts them on.

The Linen is worn loosely, comfortably. Hiding him from greedy, consumption filled eyes.

Bare feet walk soundlessly against the wooden floors and out of the room.

Letting out a breath, feeling between my legs.

Swollen

Tender

Puffy.

Sitting up, drinking the rest of the water down. My throat still feels dry, needing something else to coat it.

Walking around in bare feet, even the coolness of the wood can't tone down the rushing heat that's affecting my body.

Looking at myself in the mirror.