I’ve made you mine so many times, taken control from you, accepting the responsibility for your will. I’ve had my hand around your neck, squeezing the air from you, denying you more as you come for me. 385 more words
Again. We’re resting. No, I’m resting, you’re recovering.
You’re in my arms, your head on my chest. I’m gently tending to you, as you recover, letting you know I care for you, that you’re my world, lazily stroking your hair, telling you you’re a good girl. 460 more words