✍️ "Weak in the Knees"

 He had me against the wall before I could say his name —

fingers digging into my hips like he’d paid for the right to bruise me.


He kissed me like he was angry, tongue sliding against mine until I gasped —

that sound he loved, the one that made his grip tighten.


By the time he slid his hand between my thighs, my knees were gone —

soft, trembling, useless.


I whispered don’t stop but I didn’t need to.

He wasn’t going anywhere.


He knelt right there, lips on my inner thigh, mouth making promises my body already believed.

And when his tongue finally found me — hot, slow, devastating —

my back hit the wall and I heard him laugh into my skin.


“Weak in the knees for me, baby?”


All I could do was moan —

and give him everything he’d come for.

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