catharsis.

this dark, divine thing.

it is deep in the hours of the night, and our pulses meld together in a delicious, shadowed symphony.

I roll my hips against him, and he shudders, his fingers tightening around my waist while I squeeze his throat in my grip.

"tell me who you belong to," I whisper in his ear. the faintest of sighs escapes him, and his hips buck slightly in an instinctual form of reply. he is lost in the headiness of space dying between us, lost in the scent of my hair and the press of my body against him where he aches for it most –

but that is not the answer I want.

I squeeze tighter. grind harder. he moans, long and broken, when I sink my teeth into the side of his neck. "be a good boy," I say, heat simmering in the back of my throat and turning my voice into a rough, raw thing that I cannot recognise. "tell me. who do you belong to?"

he licks his lips. looks up at me through his lashes, his half-lidded, dazed expression prompting me to bruise his mouth with my own.

"you," he breathes when we part, the word desperate with want. "I belong to you."

I kiss him again, softer this time and less hungry. he sighs into his reward, and I smile.

much better.