[ Since I haven't updated Lost Boy have some Dreo. ]
It's a furnace in here. Your skin is on fire and his fingertips are red hot pokers that leave searing drops of molten metal in their wake. Could you possibly be on fire? Oh, you hope so. The burning reminds you of what it's like to get a good stretch in the morning after hours of sleeping. Every muscle in your body aches because you are on the verge of ripping them apart, but it feels too good to stop. That sensation is what it feels like to have his lips at the pulse in your throat so he can keep time of your fluttering heart and you heaving breaths. That sensation is the way you feel when his hand grips at your chin and pulls your mouth to his so that sweet mouth can show you how it is far from sweet.
He devours you and you let him. You open up to him so he can claim everything that you are even though you're not sure that even you know all those parts of you, but you offer them up anyway. If he wanted to devour your soul in that kiss you would give it up to him on your eager tongue because that is what his kisses can do to you. People say that kissing is some sweet gesture of adoration, but a kiss isn't a kiss for you unless it's this ravaging thing that his kisses have always become to you. He devours every sound you make like he's been starving all of his life for that very whimper he tore from you with a squeeze to your hip.
Is it possible for your bones to ache for someone's touch? Well, yours do. They ache for him to grip you too hard so that you know when you look tomorrow there will be purple bruises where his fingertips had once been. You want to remember with every step you take the next day that you were his the day before because it is imprinted on private patches of your flesh. Maybe he will carve his name into your bones with his fingertips so you won't forget it. Not that you could because your throat is already aching from screaming it so loud that you are sure you can taste blood. But what a glorious name it is to scream for the world to hear.
That name may as well be as sweet as honey, but it is truly a length of barbed wire because each time you say it your throat becomes more and more raw. He should stop making you scream for it and for him, but you love that he can't help himself when you're panting and helpless beneath him. You want that kiss to continue, but at the same time you want to feel that sinful mouth all over you at once. So many decisions to make, but you have no choice in the matter because his mouth goes only where he wants it to and you stay where he tells you to because you know he can stop. You ride the precipice of madness induced by the heady arousal his mouth brings you, but he has a firm hold on himself. Something about the way he holds himself together makes you fall apart under his fingertips.
So you're falling. You're falling, you're bending, you're breaking, you're mending, and you're crashing into him. How is it possible to fall apart and pull together at the same time? You don't know, but the moment he's inside you that is exactly what it is like. You are split wide open and then put back together in one second of pure bliss. You are the crashing wave and he is the sea wall. You spill all over him, but he still holds you back and is ready when you come back for more.