Lost

She hated pain. 

She told him that when they talked

When she outlined her boundaries 

Drawing circles with her finger tip

In the spill of dinner’s red wine.

But much later as the night ate up her cries 

She begged and begged for more

Pressing back, 

Arching into the slam if his hips

Pulling herself open for every dirty sharp furrow.

It hurt.

As she shoved her fingers into

Her empty wet

And her mind spun 

And splintered away from 

All she was and into everything he wanted.

He razed her core, grunting his pleasure and calling her

His best girl. 

Then whispered in her ear a command to cum on her fingers,

As he spilled molten

Into her ass.

Denials groaned in her chest 

As she tightened 

And obeyed.