How do I tell him what it does to me, When his mouth takes my body like it's his feast? How do I tell him how my skin burns, Every time his hands roam and my body learns?
The way he grabs my tits, no hesitation, Licking and sucking with raw determination. Soft at first, then biting down, Making me gasp, moan, and drown.
How do I tell him how his fingers invade, Stretching me open, making me beg to be played? Or the way he thrusts, deep and strong, Filling me up, where he belongs.
And when I taunt him, "What if it's someone new?" His voice drops dark, his eyes cut through. "I'd rip his cock off, feed it to the hounds," He claims me again, no need for bounds.
"But we're not a thing," I say with a smirk, Yet his grip tightens, his voice turns dark. "You're mine," he growls, "until the earth stops its work."
YOU ARE READING
Unclaimed, Yet His
PoetryThe poem delves into the raw and primal connection between two lovers who defy conventional boundaries. It explores themes of passion, desire, and possession through unapologetically vivid imagery. The narrator finds herself captivated by the intens...
