Him

I crave his hand in my hair,

His tender stare drives me.

I adore his hands pounding against my flesh. Bursting my capillaries and bringing that beautiful blush on my skin. It hurts, but I love it. I was taught too young to mix my pleasure with my pain. Suffer through this so you can enjoy that.  I take the bruises and wear them pride. After all it was his hand print marking me. It's his bite mark imprinted on my shoulder. Just as much as I am his, he is mine. It's my nails that dug into his back. My tattoo is on his neck. My name that graces his lips. He is mine, I am his. We play our parts elegantly. He pushes me to my very edge. I dangle off the cliff,  I never doubt, and his hold on me does not waver. When he pulls me back, I want to climb inside him,  and bury myself in his warmth. He is my safety, my control,  the only one who can calm my inner demons, who can tame the monster inside me.