Frisson...
She won’t deny it
She wants him more than anything
In her soul’s confession she’ll plead guilty
To his effect upon her
To the exquisite frisson that rushes through her
When she thinks of being with him
When she sees his name
When she hears his voice
To the near constant erotic thoughts
She entertains in the still of the night
Of her yearning to be taken fully by him
In every dark way possible
The imagined press of his lips to hers
The whisper of fingertips across her skin
His finger dragged along her spine
Where he would rest his hand on her hip
Possessively
Of being bound body and soul to him
Dark and dangerous musings
Which rob her of her sleep
Her lust exhaling in the night air
Caressing her with want
Firing her blood with need
Dawn’s light finding her shipwrecked
Upon her tangled sheets