I want to feel his feather-soft fingertips grazing the curves of my body,
To reverently hold him in my arms beneath the pale moonlight,
To feel the heat of his skin on mine.
I yearn for the warm, insistent coaxing of his lips,
The sound of his whispering voice,
And the feeling of his breath tickling my ear.
I want tenderness in his beautiful eyes, his words, his touch.
I long for his capable arms, his easy smile, the masculine smell of his body.
I need gentleness within his insistence, desire within his need, compassion within his reckless abandon.
I don't want *** from him,
I want to make love.
I don't know what I want, really. But I want it to be soft and slow and gentle so I can savor every moment.