I like your expressions: how you smile after we kiss like you‘re savoring some private victory, how you bite your lip, how your eyes can shift from cool, curious, feline detachment to an almost feral hunger.
I like your lips and tongue and teeth and the way they like to take and be taken.
I like how you surrender but never submit.
I like the noises you make, the way you murmur words in your pleasure that I'm never fully sure I'm meant to hear.
I like how when lean on your elbows and tilt your head back, the sun lights up the edge of your neck and gravity flows through your hair, turning it into a waterfall.
I like your legs and the way they ripple with tremors when I skate my fingertips along the inside of your thighs.
I like the skin of your back, the jut of your shoulder blades, the crease of your hipbone.
I love the taste of you. All of you.
Most of all I like the way how when I glide my hands down your body, it rises to meet my touch, flowing through my palms like Egyptian sand.