His Eyes.

There he was, leaning against the sea wall; looking out at the waves breaking against the rocks. His body was all tense lines set against the breeze and salt spray. My eyes followed the broad expanse of his shoulders, all the way down past the taut muscles of his back, to the firm set of his hips where his jeans rode low and clung to his thighs like a second skin. I could feel the heat crawling up my body just from the sight of him. His hands rested on the wall and the muscles of his arms flexed with an obvious tension, making the dragon tattooed along his upper arm appear to be moving. There was something about the tattoo that made me instantly aware of his sexuality and brought out a need in me to shock him, seduce him. To make him lose control and beg for the touch of my hands and lips on his body.

As I watched him, desire overwhelmed my body making my knees week and my hands tremble. I doubted that I would ever be immune to the man standing before me. I could have walked away before he looked up, but I was still trying to decide what I wanted to do. My head said run, but my body would not co-operate. Would I walk over and embrace him or would I turn around and leave while I still could?

This desperate need for him, and the prurient sensuality he offered, was sometimes too much for me. It ruled my waking hours, interfered with my work, my family; my peace of mind. I was afraid of the dark, edgy carnality I had always kept so well hidden. But he shook my foundations. Made me afraid that if I gave into the desires pulling at me, demanding that I give up everything else but him, I would be lost forever.

It was too late. As I looked up and met his eyes, I was staggered by the waves of emotion that battled in the air between us. I could see his struggle to comprehend it all, raw and unhidden in his eyes. I knew what it was because the same emotions and feelings were coursing through me as well. Lust, crazy, frenzied lust that rode us both. Yes, that was what stirred the air between us. Our eyes locked and for just a moment I saw panic, fear and unanswered questions cast a shadow across his eyes.

Those same eyes that in the past have speared me and left me immobile; dazed and dazzled me with his erotic need. My eyes watched his as I was assaulted with memories of how it felt to have his hands on me, the caress of his flesh against mine, his body inside me, thrilling me. I knew I was lost; knew that I would have him again and again. That the fire would never be quenched, that I would always be addicted to the particular opiate that he was. His sensual thumb print was on me, imprinted forever.

I surrendered with a deep sigh. Relief? I'm not sure. But I realized in that moment that I would do anything, be anything, grant his every wicked fantasy, just to be consumed in the fever of us. I saw it in him too. His eyes, the stance of his body said he would do the same. His need was the same, it troubled him the same. But he could do nothing but obey the demands of his lust.

I walked into those open arms and felt his sensual embrace through to my soul. What I had seen in his eyes made the fear I'd been harboring flee and made the temptation inescapable.