Flitting through my mind...

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Those eyes, that look, the one that lets you know your in for it.
His hand threading through and then gripping your hair.
Moving it and subsequently you to his whim.
His hand clasping around your throat.
The growled “kiss me” as the other one fists tighter in your hair.
Making you work to touch your lips to his.
Ensuring you earn that sweet pleasure and pain.
The art and the mastery seeping into your veins.
Like a drug it intoxicates, it’s your drug, your drug of choice.
 
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