His sweet breath on my neck...the sensation of being touched by imagination, awakens me to a bright room. My hair covering my face prevents me from seeing his eyes at first. Smoothing my hair back, the full impact of what I see in those eyes shuts down my lungs. My breath is trapped, begging for release...dizziness settles on wave after wave. Why did God give this man such expressive eyes? I was damned the first time I looked into them. Falling, trying to swim, drowning. Such sweet intense pain. I'm lost from the moment I look at him, capturing my soul with a glance. Everytime is like the first time, I forget who I am and only want to give all of myself to him. No one man should have the kind of power this man has. It's frightening, knowing he can turn my thoughts to chaos with one look. A war rages within...love, anger, possessiveness, generosity, lust,independence. I want to give him everything he wants, but I want to take everything he has to offer and more. My body responds to his eyes as if a lover's hands were exploring taboo territory. He must know what one look can conquer, how one look can take and give even more. My breath finally escapes as I choke out a "Good morning love". How can he not know what he does to me, the power he has over me?
He leans in to brush my wild hair from my face, helps me to sit up and hands me a cup of coffee....just like every other morning.
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