I imagine in the night (pt. 1) ...that his skin tastes of the integration of sugar with lemon zest; tempting a moment to lick the foam of a fresh cup of buttermilk from his lip. I would taste like the cream left over, and the scent of the oil rendering from coconut flesh.
I imagine in the night (pt. 2) ...that when my lip is cut by my anxious teeth, he would ease its swollen sting; brushing against them with a thumb, I would take his knuckles to press on them a kiss, one by one... Emboldened - only by compulsion - to dip his fingers into my mouth.