A dual perspective, dialogue driven moment:
His POV:
The room flickered with a slow, amber glow-the kind of light that doesn’t just illuminate, it seduces. Shadows played over her curves, dressing her in mystery, in sin.
She wasn’t speaking yet. But her body did.
Her breath was shallow, eyes wide and wild, and her lips parted ever so slightly, begged for something she hadn’t voiced.
“You look like a painting drenched in hunger,” I murmured, stepping closer, watching the candlelight shimmer over the line of her collarbone. “Sweat clings to you like a worshipper who never learned how to let go.”
Her response wasn’t in words. It was in the way her knees subtly shifted. The way her fingers grazed her own thigh.
So I asked gently, like a knife brushing silk,
“Do you want me to kneel?”
She nodded.
But her eyes said.....devour me.
Her POV:
I’d seen him in every shade sharp in daylight, clever in crowds, quiet when nobody else noticed. But here, in this low warmth where silence breathed between us, he was something else entirely.
He was the ache in my spine.
He was the pressure building in my throat.
“Get on your knees,” I whispered, but it was more a prayer than a command. “I want you closer to the hunger.”
And he obeyed, slowly. Like a king surrendering to his queen. But the way he looked up at me from below—God, I knew I was the one surrendering.
He slid his hands along my thighs, not grabbing, just tracing. Letting me feel the weight of every inch that wasn’t touching me yet.
“You have no idea what you do to me,” he said. “You're temptation carved in flesh.”
I couldn’t breathe, and I didn’t want to.
His POV:
I hovered just inches from her skin, letting her feel the heat of my breath. Her thighs trembled slightly. She wanted contact, craved it like it hurt to be untouched.
“Open your mouth,” I whispered, stroking her lips with my thumb.
She hesitated, eyes smoldering.
“Let me bite my lip first,” she said with a grin that knew far too much.
“While I still have control.”
That grin vanished the second my fingers slid between her lips. Her tongue curled around them instantly, sucking gently, obscenely. I could see the shift–the way her body exhaled into submission.
Still kneeling, I looked up and said,
“You’re going to be blindfolded now.”
She pause.......
Her POV:
I couldn’t see anything anymore—not because my eyes were closed, but because desire had eclipsed every other sense. I wasn’t thinking. I was pulsing.
“I want you to taste me like you're starving,” I said. “Like I’m your final meal.”
“I don’t eat,” he murmured, rising slowly. “I devour.”
He stood behind me now, lips grazing the edge of my neck. He didn’t kiss. He breathed. Deep and slow. Like each breath was claiming territory.
“Do you trust me?” he asked, voice silk and steel. I nodded.
He wrapped the blindfold around my eyes, tying it firm. Darkness. Silence. My pulse.
Then came his voice—low, close, in my ear: “Now, you're mine to read like scripture. And tonight, I’m a sinner who won’t stop confessing.”
His POV:
I led her backward, gently pushing until her knees met the edge of the sofa. She sat, blindfolded, lips parted, waiting.
“You said my eyes made you feel wrapped in darkness,” I whispered, unbuckling her tension thread by thread. “Now, I’ve given it to you.”
She smiled, though she couldn’t see me.
“Then make me feel it.”
I bent between her thighs. And I did.
Not with greed.
With reverence.
With precision.
With the same patience you use to open locked doors and broken people.
And when she moaned—soft, desperate-I held her open and whispered,
“Every sound you make is mine.”
Her POV:
His mouth was everywhere and nowhere at once. I didn’t know where he’d touch next. I only knew I needed it.
Blindfolded, I had nothing but sensation.
His tongue, his teeth, the weight of his body slowly pressing against mine.
I didn’t want control.
I wanted to be undone.
“I need you,” I gasped. “Now.”
“You’ll get me,” he growled, pulling me closer. “But only after I’ve taken every bit of softness your body owes me.”
His POV:
She asked for heat.
I gave her ruin.
And in that room, beneath that dim flicker of sweat and shadows, I didn’t just touch her body.
I took her name,
her rhythm,
her edges,
And made them mine.
His POV:
The room flickered with a slow, amber glow-the kind of light that doesn’t just illuminate, it seduces. Shadows played over her curves, dressing her in mystery, in sin.
She wasn’t speaking yet. But her body did.
Her breath was shallow, eyes wide and wild, and her lips parted ever so slightly, begged for something she hadn’t voiced.
“You look like a painting drenched in hunger,” I murmured, stepping closer, watching the candlelight shimmer over the line of her collarbone. “Sweat clings to you like a worshipper who never learned how to let go.”
Her response wasn’t in words. It was in the way her knees subtly shifted. The way her fingers grazed her own thigh.
So I asked gently, like a knife brushing silk,
“Do you want me to kneel?”
She nodded.
But her eyes said.....devour me.
Her POV:
I’d seen him in every shade sharp in daylight, clever in crowds, quiet when nobody else noticed. But here, in this low warmth where silence breathed between us, he was something else entirely.
He was the ache in my spine.
He was the pressure building in my throat.
“Get on your knees,” I whispered, but it was more a prayer than a command. “I want you closer to the hunger.”
And he obeyed, slowly. Like a king surrendering to his queen. But the way he looked up at me from below—God, I knew I was the one surrendering.
He slid his hands along my thighs, not grabbing, just tracing. Letting me feel the weight of every inch that wasn’t touching me yet.
“You have no idea what you do to me,” he said. “You're temptation carved in flesh.”
I couldn’t breathe, and I didn’t want to.
His POV:
I hovered just inches from her skin, letting her feel the heat of my breath. Her thighs trembled slightly. She wanted contact, craved it like it hurt to be untouched.
“Open your mouth,” I whispered, stroking her lips with my thumb.
She hesitated, eyes smoldering.
“Let me bite my lip first,” she said with a grin that knew far too much.
“While I still have control.”
That grin vanished the second my fingers slid between her lips. Her tongue curled around them instantly, sucking gently, obscenely. I could see the shift–the way her body exhaled into submission.
Still kneeling, I looked up and said,
“You’re going to be blindfolded now.”
She pause.......
Her POV:
I couldn’t see anything anymore—not because my eyes were closed, but because desire had eclipsed every other sense. I wasn’t thinking. I was pulsing.
“I want you to taste me like you're starving,” I said. “Like I’m your final meal.”
“I don’t eat,” he murmured, rising slowly. “I devour.”
He stood behind me now, lips grazing the edge of my neck. He didn’t kiss. He breathed. Deep and slow. Like each breath was claiming territory.
“Do you trust me?” he asked, voice silk and steel. I nodded.
He wrapped the blindfold around my eyes, tying it firm. Darkness. Silence. My pulse.
Then came his voice—low, close, in my ear: “Now, you're mine to read like scripture. And tonight, I’m a sinner who won’t stop confessing.”
His POV:
I led her backward, gently pushing until her knees met the edge of the sofa. She sat, blindfolded, lips parted, waiting.
“You said my eyes made you feel wrapped in darkness,” I whispered, unbuckling her tension thread by thread. “Now, I’ve given it to you.”
She smiled, though she couldn’t see me.
“Then make me feel it.”
I bent between her thighs. And I did.
Not with greed.
With reverence.
With precision.
With the same patience you use to open locked doors and broken people.
And when she moaned—soft, desperate-I held her open and whispered,
“Every sound you make is mine.”
Her POV:
His mouth was everywhere and nowhere at once. I didn’t know where he’d touch next. I only knew I needed it.
Blindfolded, I had nothing but sensation.
His tongue, his teeth, the weight of his body slowly pressing against mine.
I didn’t want control.
I wanted to be undone.
“I need you,” I gasped. “Now.”
“You’ll get me,” he growled, pulling me closer. “But only after I’ve taken every bit of softness your body owes me.”
His POV:
She asked for heat.
I gave her ruin.
And in that room, beneath that dim flicker of sweat and shadows, I didn’t just touch her body.
I took her name,
her rhythm,
her edges,
And made them mine.
