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A simple touch is a powerful thing
poeticallyinked


The song fills the air, the words floating about him, enveloping him in a cocoon that is filled with images that he has kept buried, images of things he so eagerly craves to do but denies himself moving past the point where such intimate acts can be reached and engaged in. He's happy on his own, he's comfortable in the life he has…why would he want to change that? Why would he want to bring someone in that could possibly hurt him worse than the last one? And there's a faint whisper floating in his mind: Because she is worth it.
With a heavy sigh he lounges in his chair, head tilted back, eyes closing and he surrenders himself to the images in his mind. He surrenders himself to the feelings such experiences would allow him to have. The song comes to an end but he hits play once more needing to hear that song play again, needing to be thrown back beneath the waves of the experiences he so eagerly craves to have with no one else but her. The song begins and so do the images: 
He sees her, sees her slender, perfect form laying before him on a soft Persian carpet set in front of the fire place, the crackling of the logs as the flames lick at them filling the room, the scent of the burning wood mixing in with the perfect, divine scent that belongs only to her. His eyes lock with hers and he can see the spark of excitement mixing in with a slight tinge of nervousness. He can hear her heart racing, the slightly rapid rise and fall of her chest an evident sign all on its own that her heart would be racing should he not be able to hear it so clearly. He moves his body to rest at her side, head resting in the palm of his hand, eyes remaining on hers, feeling them drawing him into the deep warm depths of her soul. He swallows and then allows a breath to pass through parted lips. His eyes break from hers and begin a slow trail over her body. She lay before him not in a complete naked and vulnerable state…no he wouldn't want her to feel that vulnerable; he wouldn't want her to feel vulnerable at all really but he knows that laying there on the soft rug, the thin fabric of her lingerie the only form of clothing she has on….well he knows she'd feel slightly vulnerable….he wants to take that away from her. 
His eyes come to the end of their trail having hungrily taken in every detail of her, taking note of every beauty mark she has, taking note of any small scars she may have and wondering where they have come from and what the story is behind each…but that will have to wait. His eyes return to hers, her breathing heavier now, her scent heavy in the air, the warmth of her body next to his seeming to be warmer than the fire itself, her heart a rapidly beating drum in his ears. He lifts his free hand and begins to trace her features on her beautiful face, the touch of his fingers causing her eyes to close and a soft moan to be released on a heavy breath. His fingers move to her parted lips, outlining them slowly, the feel of her breath on his fingertips causing a shiver to race down his spine. He moves his fingers down, brushing them lightly along the line of her jaw, watching her move her head from one side to the next as his fingers graze over her skin. He moves them down over the smooth skin of her neck, her head lifting in response to his touch as it moves further down, noticing how her slender fingers seem to grasp at the rug, chest heaving now, her bosom rising and falling rapidly within the confines of her bra.
He places his arm down, resting his weight on it, head tilting now to the side as he moves his fingers further down along their chartered course. They ghost over the skin of her collar bone moving first to one shoulder then the next before returning. He swallows once more before moving them further down. His fingers brushing down between her breasts, fingers barely touching the skin; she whimpers softly, almost pleadingly but he will not give in to his raging desires to do more. No, this is not the time to be ravaging her….this is a time to make her see just how much he appreciates every inch of her…he wants her to see that every inch of her is important to him. He draws in a deep breath and lets it out slowly, soothing the raging war slightly. He comes into contact with the soft, smooth skin of her stomach. His fingers dance across the skin, smiling when a soft, short giggle escapes her as his fingers brush over the sensitive skin at her side and then bites back a growl when she moans and arches slightly when his fingers brush over the skin just above the top of her underwear. Her back arches once more when he circles his fingers around her navel, his eyes now locking on her face as he watches the expressions that flood her features, smiling slightly when he sees the flush in her cheeks. Her eyes open and they lock with his and a louder moan escapes her as his fingers move down between her legs, the heat causing a soft groan to slip past his lips but he forces himself to remain calm. His fingers run down along the hot skin of her inner thigh until they cannot move along any further without him moving. He shift his body between her legs, his own chest beginning to heave at the new angle and view point of her, watching her as she bites her bottom lip and it makes him smile once more. 
Now he has both hands available and he puts them to use. He moves his fingers along the skin of her legs, down over her knees, fingers circling the small slightly protruding bones of her ankles, ghosting along the curves of her feet to the tip of her toes and then moving back up along her legs. Her hands grip the rug firmly, her soft moans more frequent and her eyes are glazed over…not with lust but something else…something resembling a more…euphoric state. His lips and his tongue ache to taste her skin, to drink her in. He moves up and leans down planting soft, slow, open-mouthed kisses in a line up along her stomach, the action pulling a gasp from her, causing her back to arch her further into the kisses. His tongue flicks out and circles her navel before moving further up along the stomach. He moves between her breasts, every inch of willpower being put into play now not to grope or touch them in any manner. His lips move up and towards the right side of her neck. Her head falls to the left giving him the access he desires. Soft kisses are placed up her neck, his hot breath brushing over her ear, causing her body to shudder beneath him and an eruption of goose bumps to cover her skin. His lips move down and across, soft, wet kisses left in a trail over her throat and her head moves to the right, his lips moving along the skin of her neck, hot breath brushing across her ear again, a moan escaping her, back arching once more. 
He kisses his way up and along her jawline before moving his lips over the features of her face: Eyes, cheeks, nose, temples, forehead….everywhere but her lips. He knows it is an act of teasing that is torture to them both but right now it is all about touching, tasting, loving every inch of her without doing anything more than that. 
His eyes open and he sits forward in his chair, chest heaving already and a growl of frustration rumbling in his chest. He runs a hand through his hair and downs his drink cursing himself for letting his mind run away like that. He gets up, switches off the music and storms out of his room, heading downstairs to get another drink.

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