You sit waiting, red and swollen,
cream peaked and begging,
a soft crown trembling
for the fall of my mouth.

I tear your dress away—
no patience, no pause—
paper ripped,
skin bare,
your velvet body spilling open.

My teeth sink in,
you break,
flesh hot and wet against my tongue,
sweetness bursting,
dripping down my lips,
my chin,
marking me with your hunger.

I bury myself in you,
mouth full,
tongue shoving deep,
dragging the cream across my palate,
smearing you in streaks of sugar and sin.

I want you ruined,
crumb by crumb,
until you collapse in my grip,
until nothing remains
but the ache on my tongue,
the stain on my fingers,
and the raw, reckless need
to do it all again.