Of Sins and Purity

The way he looks at you

It was a bomb affair of grand attraction, yet it was so painless falling for him.

"Come here.."

He'd beckon, grasping your arms pulling you in without much time to think. His lips capture yours moving to wander the arch of your neck. The stifled gasp of his name has him chuckling onto the hollow of your collar bone as he walks you two backward into the wall tightly. The heat creeps over your cheeks. His hands find their way to your hips, rubbing small circles into the bit of exposed skin peeking out from under the hem of your shirt.

Clay had a way of looking at you in these moments... As if he was seeing you for the first time all over again, eyes wide with wonder. He'd never stop asking, where had you been? What corner of the world had you been hiding in all these years? It was easier to just kiss him silent- because what did it matter- you were right here- right now. Clay grins into your lips- finding a firmer grip beneath your shirt.

You move in to kiss him harder, he moves with you, leaning forward the slightest bit.. It spurred Clay on, hands moving and gliding over your sides and lower back. Your fingers run through his tangled mess of dishwater blonde locks. Your shoulders were biting into the wall-
something was lit under him, he can feel it – a sudden, devouring need to be closer.

——————————/////————-

Clay didn't want to stop, He hadn't since He slid inside your warmth- a connective energy that expressed the provocative exhibit of your form. From the length of your toes to the dynamic design of of your thighs – transcending into the sexual bash of mortal vulnerability.

He's come to realize superb seduction at its finest with you. It wasn't the glow, or the hue of your vibrating flesh, or even the stylish way your figure molded between his. No – he sees the desire drown the whites of your eyes; the raspberry smears of your cheeks, and the kissed plump lips deafening his name.

Clay wants to breach the plausible threshold of intimacy, and fulfill this suffocating appetite; to infuse his every being with yours – was it so difficult?

His knowledge of such knew better, but it didn't restrict his ambition from pulling apart your legs even further apart.

Your instructions are demanding – the oval gasps breathing perfume- becoming his very own toxic aroma transfixing him in total, and I mean total hysteria. Clay feels your full weight thrive from under him– pinning you into cold wall further. Your head tilt back, hands gripping the broadness of his shoulders tightly and your knees positioned over the bend of his arms.

He bings on the fumes breeding from your talent – faster and faster, allowing for brief whips of cool wind to snuff the flame raging between the both of you...

Over and over and over, until both of you drift into utter bliss. The surreal relief that births in gripping desire; overwhelming you two into the haze your afterglow.