It’s something I shouldn’t be doing but can’t seem to stop. It’s just that the second our lips meet that my brain decides to go on vacation. My morals and rational thoughts go with them. All I want is your hands to feel every single piece of aching skin. I want your lips to move from my neck down my collar bone until there’s nothing that can get me higher than this.
While I know this is going to end badly, I know that I can’t help that this is what you do to me. You make this careful, smart person into a reckless idiot. Your tongue can do things not only to my body but also to my mind. Your voice makes my heart leap into my throat the second it purrs through my phone. You’re my kind of torture and it’s like the pain that comes with it doesn’t exist.
I’ll wake up in the morning hating myself but I don’t care. All I want is to see what your body looks like next to mine. These moments are few and far in between but when they happen, they’re explosive. I love wrapping my legs around you.
Temporarily, we’re trapped in each other and it’s my favorite past time.
I never thought hating someone could fuel something so passionate that I forget my utter disdain for you.
You’re arrogant. You’re cocky. You’re an asshole. But fuck do I want you in my bed, time and time again. The way you carry yourself drives me crazy in every single way. You always manage to do me right and it pisses me off how good you are at it.
I need someone to pray for me. I need someone to beg for my soul back because it’s completely imprisoned in your hands. You have me and you know it. While I fight it every time, you know that when you give me that look, my pants are already half off.
Maybe it’s because you’re so unapologetically yourself that makes me want you so bad. Maybe it’s the fact that we’re cut from the exact same cloth. Or maybe it’s the fact that you’re so emotionally unavailable that I know what I’m getting with you. Either way, I just want you in my space constantly.
I crave excitement. I’ve gone out with nice guys, had a nice time and had nice conversations. They drop me off at my house and give me a respectable kiss on the cheek. They leave and I wonder what’s so wrong with me that nice just doesn’t do it for me.
I like complicated. I like dark. I like mysteries that need unraveling. I like you. I like everything you bring to the table even though all you can give me is a few late nights and never any early mornings. I like not knowing where this is going and if I’m ever going to see you again. I’m addicted to the rush that comes along with getting you every once in a while. It excites me.
You excite me.
It’s dirty and completely opposite to everything I stand for but I still want you more than anything. I don’t need to talk to you every day as long as there’s a guarantee that you’ll end up in my bed more often than not.
When you come calling, I come running every time. While I know I should go in the opposite direction, I find myself drawn to you like a magnet. It’s powerful and unexplainable but hell it’s the only thing I want.
You’re all that I want.