The NY Literary Magazine

A Distinguished Selection of the Finest Modern Literature

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erotic sensual poems

At His Mercy by Eva Hore

Waking from a peaceful slumber,
I open my eyes to find him staring at me.
Remembrance of our lovemaking causes a flush to stain my cheeks.
Gently he tugs at the sheet, his eyes never leaving mine.

The whirring of the fan caresses my breast, hardening the nipple.
His eyes flash mischievously before lowering his head,
the lightness of his tongue dances along my throat,
inching its way closer, my skin tingling with anticipation.

Instead, he throws back the sheet, exposing me completely.
I gasp, try to pull back but he throws it to the floor.

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