Half hidden in the dark she is perfect. Silver moonlight reflecting off cream skin and midnight hair. She is tangled in the sheets, staring darkly into my eyes. Maybe she knows what I'm thinking. Maybe she knows I'm glad for the shadows. Glad I cant see the shiny scars that pattern her wrists and stomach and legs. Maybe not. Maybe she is just begging me to begin.
Finger tips on fire tracing cold liquid skin. A blazing trail of territory claimed, shapes memorised, and silent thoughts. In the dark I hear her breathing. Soft, shallow, steady breathing. I feel her trembling in anticipation, waiting for my next move, my next touch, my next unspoken word.
Without thought her body responds. There is power in my finger tips. With the smallest bit of skin I control her. With a millimetre of movement I captivate her. With the slightest pressure I enslave her.
I escape her eyes and kiss her. With a fistful of her hair I hold her down as I pull back. Her body arches up against me and I know she is truly mine. With lips and teeth and tongue I torture her. Tease her with touch but pull back before she has enough.
The tempo changes. Her need is savage. Her eyes are fire burning my name. I give in to that stare and make her glad she came. She wants me and needs me like never before. This time it's different. This time it's real.
She is all shallow breathing and tangled hair. All forgotten vows and broken promises. All mine.
I tie her up in ribbons and write my name across her skin. Smear the memory between our sweaty bodies. I hold her close and know she needs me closer. I pull her into myself so she forgets she even exists. With each moment I claim her and tame her. Break her open to keep her whole. Dissolver her into dust and release her to the air. I let her escape this heavy breathing and whisper her name so she keeps from screaming. I paint her skin with violent love to keep her heart from bleeding.