His hands move over me, taking their time, carefully unbuttoning every button, unzipping every zipper, letting each strap fall. His fingers grazing my cool skin, electricity in his fingertips leaving a trail of goosebumps. His hands move lightly over me tracing patterns on my skin, moving up my thighs, tummy, back, arms, neck, up into my hair to gently guide my head back towards his shoulder. Cocking it to one side, I can feel his breath hot against my neck, the muscles and tendons of my neck straining with the position. His lips brush that sweet nook between the neck and the shoulders while his other hand wraps around my waist and pulls my body in closer to his behind me. Sweet, small kisses up my neck behind my ear, and then he whispers something to me. My lips part slightly with a gasp of air, my breathing quickens, I let a soft moan escape my lips. His lips are poised on the edge of my ear, he's talking to me quietly, saying things I've been dying to hear for years. Those words that I'd read so often become reality and yet are ephemeral and fleeting as they dissolve in the air like smoke.
There are words that I have never been told intimately. Words that I long to hear whispered to me.