Biter

The primal urges drive the thrill,

Tensions held together by the tip of a quill.

I see the tender spots on your skin.

Your neck is the place to begin.

You sit unhesitatingly by my side,

Knowing it's not a good idea to hide.

A devious grin and you see the spark.

You bare your flesh for the mark.

I gently smooth it with my finger tips,

Followed by licks from eager lips.

Our pulses quicken together,

Little restraint holding me tethered.

You gingerly stroke my hair

And coax me out with care.

The creature within snaps

And the sensation causes collapse.

My teeth bed into your soft surface,

Finding them sheathed in the right place.

You quietly groan and hug me tighter,

Forgiving me for being a biter.

Sated for now, I rest on your shoulder.

With urge gone, the room feels colder.

Reassurance in the form of a kiss,

I know our twisted love persists.