Mm…

You haven’t touched me yet…

But why do you look so guilty?

You walk in like a saint in sin,

Eyes confess what your mouth holds in.

Can’t hide the hunger, it’s all in your stare,

Like your hands already touched me… everywhere.

Your pulse is racing, you’re barely still,

Caught in a crime you crave to fulfill.

But baby, tell me — what did you do?

Why’s that guilt dripping off of you?

Every glance a little confession,

Every breath, sweet repression.

I haven’t moved — haven’t said a thing...

But you’re already imagining everything.

Guilty looks good on you, baby —

Blushing like you broke the rules.

Tongue tied, can’t hide the maybe,

Eyes say you’re nobody’s fool.

You haven’t touched, but you want to —

I feel it every time you breathe.

Guilty looks good on you, baby,

And I wear your guilt like satin sleeves.

You flinch like my skin is fire,

But your silence fans the desire.

I lean in close — just to speak,

And your restraint starts to leak.

I see you tremble, trying to behave,

But boy, I built this cage for you to crave.

Don’t act holy in that shade of red —

When I know the scene that’s in your head.

You’re standing still, but falling fast,

Caught in a spell you hoped wouldn’t last.

No kiss, no touch — not even skin,

But the guilt's already soaking in.

Guilty looks good on you, baby —

Like sweat beneath your shirt.

I barely said your name, but maybe,

You're aching from the hurt.

You haven't sinned, but you're burning,

Craving what we haven’t done.

Guilty looks good on you, baby,

But I haven’t even touched… anyone.

Come closer.

You think I don’t know what’s in that pretty little mind?

Your hands are clean…

But your thoughts are dirty.

You’re already guilty, darling.

So why not enjoy the sentence?

Chains made of looks,

Ropes made of words,

Pleasure in pressure,

Your silence hurts.

One wrong move,

And we both ignite,

But I like you shaking,

Too scared to bite.

Guilty looks good on you, baby —

Like whispers tangled in the dark.

You try to fight, but maybe,

You're already wearing my mark.

No fingerprints, no proof to show,

But the way you breathe says you know.

Guilty looks good on you, baby —

And it turns me on… real slow.

Still untouched…

But somehow…

You're already mine.