he wants to touch her; her rose-petal skin, gentle curves cased in alabaster (she's not that innocent really) flushed with peached satin. By god, he needs to touch her, feel her--feel her healing caress and the sinful velvet of her lips pressed on his, slightly pouted and parted as though whispering secrets. He wants to take her, sate his desires; to sink into her and feel her aflame beneath him; flushed skin on ivory skin; oceans, sweat and tears clashing into one delightful, shuddering frenzy. He wants to make her his,
forever, as long as he breathes.
he just didn't know that she wants him too,
even more than he wants her.