Fever I Never Want to Break

Heat builds low
not just lust, not just want
but that raw, aching burn
the kind that lives in the hollow of my stomach
in the clench between my thighs
in the space behind my ribs
where I keep your voice like a loaded gun
and your name, cocked, ready, whispered
just before I break.

You don’t even need to touch me
to have me soaked, squirming
begging without breath.
All it takes is your command in my head
that calm, cruel voice
telling me to spread
to hold still
to wait.

Wait.

Wait with my wrists tied
my breath shallow
my body trembling in anticipation
as I imagine your hand hovering
your eyes watching
your words crawling through me like smoke.

I want your rules
the ones I hate to follow
because they make me ache.
I want your belt on the floor
your hand on my throat
your voice low and filthy in my ear
telling me I’m nothing but yours.

I want you to leave marks
a map of your control written across my skin
in red
in bite-shaped oaths
in stinging lessons.
I want your praise to come slow
wrapped in the sting of your palm
dripping from your lips like honey after the pain.

Say I’m a good girl
but make me earn it.
Make me whimper through the burn
make me wait for the reward
make me feel the shame and the thrill
of being your plaything
your fucktoy
your perfectly obedient ruin.

Take me apart
inch by inch
nerve by nerve
with clamps, with rope, with patience.
Edge me until I cry
deny me until my voice cracks
use me until I forget my own name
and remember only yours.

Hold me open
hold me down
make me feel small
make me feel owned.
Tell me not to come
then make me beg for the privilege.

When you bind me, I bloom.
When you strike, I offer more.
When you say stay, I freeze
because I know the reward
is you.

You don’t just take me
you consume me
you slip into my thoughts
wrap yourself around my fears
and make them beautiful.

You don’t just fuck me
you ruin me
and I thank you for every moment of it.

You are the ache
the punishment
the promise.
You are the storm behind my ribs
the collar at my throat
the fire under my skin.

You are the fever
I beg to keep
the hunger I never want sated
the command I ache to obey
again
and again
until I’m breathless and broken
smiling with tears
moaning your name
legs shaking
and soul bared.

You are the fire
and I am the rope.
Pull me tighter.

ID 2951841 | Handcuffs ©
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