He makes me like Mondays. Even the rain-beating-no, whipping-on-windowpanes, sort of Mondays.
In the quiet and dark of Monday morning, He reminds me of who we are-who i really am. i am His- His lover, His desire, and His slave. And no one else’s.
The storm lashes outside our safe cocoon of rumpled bed sheets and i am contemplating how i may never truly need anything more if it means leaving here. His touch will feed me well enough.
“I’m not ready to share you yet,” His whisper tickles my ear. His arms wrap around me from behind, as He edges closer to my back. He pulls me toward Him with the strength of a lover and a man sure of what He wants. Free will seems to be highly overrated at this moment.
The warmth of His chest on my back creates a delectable haven from the cold outside our blankets. His legs, beautifully muscled, scissor between mine, intertwining us. I feel Him so hard against my thigh, and I know that His desire to take me, claim me, as only His has made it so. His hand reaches around my waist, encircling me, and His fingers slip further still, until finding a home, sweet home within my soft, wet folds.
I gasp my assent to His intentions, which He redoubles with even greater demand.
He knows I need Him inside me now, putting Monday’s siren call far from us, eliminating any doubt that i am my beloved’s and He is mine.
I turn slowly within His embrace to face him and urge Him on top of me, settling Him between my thighs. I take Him, hot and hard, in hand and guide Him in the dark to find me- just and only, me.
We move together in decadent rhythm, filled with pleasure and low moans of passion, eager, yet reluctant at the same time, to reach a shattering crescendo. The end means the beginning of a time when our attention is diverted from one another, and so we hover on the edge of this precious Monday morning moment. Desire builds even greater, diverting thoughts from all else.
He brings me pleasure first, ahead of His own, with a triumphant smile I can begin to see in the ever-lightening dark. His own bliss follows mine, as we continue to rock slowly together, still not willing to be parted.
The rain on our window slows to mere tips and taps, as we are once again separate, though our hands cannot seem to stop their fondling.
“While I know I must give you up for now, you know the way back here, right?” He gently asks, while still caressing my breast, brushing against my heart.
And I do know, the surest route back to this safe haven of ours, is through- through all the world may set up for us to tackle. There is an oft-traveled path to follow of desire, of promises kept, and of dreams yet to come.
Even on a Monday.
Rule Number 5: The power of my Master fills me with awe. Just the sheer thought of Him or the hearing of His voice gives me strength.
