#whimsy thoughts

He’s all big hands leaving bruises on your hips and thighs and bite marks down your neck as he gives you that wolfish grin with a look in his eyes that just lets you know you’re claimed. That he owns you fully.

But then there’s after the sex when those same rough hands drag along your spine in just barely there motions and his eyes always look a little dimmer. Not disinterested, just at peace. Moments when that devilish mouth of his says the softest things you could ever imagine. Always about how good you are to him, for him- too good really if you ask for his opinion but he knows you hate when he says that.

Don't misunderstand, it's not like I can't fall in love.

It's just that right now, I am desperate to love myself first before anything else.

As selfish as it is, I can't afford sparing my heart to others.

Not when I have already given others so much of it that I almost had nothing left.

He bends you over the nearest surface and just pounds into you, knuckles bruised and dried blood still smeared on his face. He’s feral, gripping your hips in a way that you know will leave marks for days after but you can’t bring yourself to care.

It’s not even angry sex, it’s just desperate. Primal. He’s so full of adrenaline still and you’re exactly what he needs to work that out.

It’s almost like he’s trying to prove something. And maybe he is.

I don’t mean like mean in the sense of his words cause that man is all praise but mean with his actions-

Precise thrusts that keep you on the edge, that look in his eyes that tells you you’re not cumming anytime soon. God and that voice of his when he’s saying the filthiest things-

“Such a sweet little thing, gripping me so tight- you were made for me, weren’t you, honey?“

“You wanna cum, sweetheart? Cmon you can hold it just a little longer for me.”

I spent years not really having an accent at all but when I talk about him it’s so distinct in a way that only ever comes out when I’m doing customer service