3am.

Memories when I least want them.

Memories that hurt sweetly.

Her sweat.

Pearls of salt and rose on my lips.

When she called my name instead of God’s as she came.

Two heathens taking the holy sacrament.

Wanting to die in the moment.

The smell of her perfume and hot sand.

Nipples for my lips, my tongue, my teeth.

Her mouth swollen and wet and absolutely fucking perfect.

My cum slipping down her hot throat. 

Grey angel eyes looking up at me while my hands coiled into her long damp hair.

The fear that this beautiful thing could break me, shatter me if she wanted to. 

“I love you,” forming in the small hours between midnight and dawn.

Then the tender mornings.

Her soft curses while we fucked in the shower.

Everything.

Just give me her.

Us.

One more fucking time.