His eyes, like pools of midnight, held a depth of desire that could not be contained. They spoke volumes, uncensored and raw, drawing me in with their intoxicating invitation. And when his saccharine tongue touched mine, it ignited a primal carnality within me, a thirst that could not be quenched, a drought that had long been ignored.

He marked me with his teeth, his fingers tangled in my hair, leaving me raw and exposed. His touch was a scorching fire, a thrust against my soft skin, leaving me breathless and wanting more. As he moved within me, I saw a glimpse of heaven in his agonized expression, his hands leaving their bold imprint on my skin.

I poured my heartache into his chest, while he kissed his devotion into my neck, his body writhing and drenched with passion. And in that moment, I whispered to him, “Baby, you taste like my new religion,” for in his embrace, I found a new kind of salvation.

© Beatriz Esmer