Baby

twenty-three

I had forgotten what it was like to be touched by a man for more than money. I had forgotten what pleasure felt like.

Lying there, with my hands tied and eyes shut tight, I felt divine. Warmth poured over me like honey, and my whole body heated. My breathing was erratic, and eventually he cut it off entirely. I didn't mind it though, I like it.

That was how we did things. Rough.

I don't ever really remember us as having 'made love', not even on our wedding night.

It was always teeth on throats, and nails scratching against skin. It was always violent. It was always raw, animalistic.

Neither us were interested in that faux sex. That sex that gets you going but not quite, that can almost put you to sleep. No, we wanted wild, true, brutal love. The love that says 'it's you, it's you, it'll always be you' in a voice that could make you tremble.

By God, was I trembling.

My legs were shaking when he rolled off of me. My hands were twitching from the adrenaline. I turned my head to look at him.

His eyes were closed, reverent. His lips, as soft as fox fur, were tilted into a smile. Soft eyelashes brushed against his brown skin.

"I can feel you watching me."

Reaching over I let my fingertips push the hair out of his face.

"Its because you're so beautiful."

His eyes opened then, all lazy like. The blue swept over to my direction and held me captive. It was like floating on cloud nine, looking at him. His eyes were such a clear blue that the sky felt fake in comparison.

"You're the one who's beautiful. Especially when you're crying."

Thumb pads brushed lines down my cheeks, smudging my mascara streams even more.

I smiled at him then, the exhaustion making way for peace.

"I think I'll love you when the world implodes, and for a while after."