Step closer.
Let the silence teach you what my voice won’t say.
You’re already trembling.
I haven’t even touched you yet.

Hold still.
Let the moment wrap around you like the silk that binds your wrists.
Not tight; just enough.
To remind you who is in control.

The day begins beneath my fingertips.
You follow them;
quiet, trembling, grateful.
Good pet.

You keep pretending you’re unaffected.
But your breath shifts when I speak.
Your posture changes when I look at you.
You lean in, then act like it was an accident.
I see it all.
And I let you pretend—
because watching you unravel slowly is so much sweeter than pulling you apart all at once.

You flirt like you’re playing with fire.
I smile because I am the fire.
And you’re already warm from standing too close.

Your name tastes like velvet when I whisper it.
I do not speak it loudly;
I let it linger between my teeth-
a secret sharpening to a smile,
then softening into a love bite at the edge of your throat.
Oh, how delicious you taste.

I arrive quietly—
Like thunder wrapped in velvet,
like rain that kisses first, then floods.

You brace for impact,
But I’m already inside your silence
rewriting your breath with mine.

You melt best when you think I’m not watching—
when your body shivers
and your breath hitches as you’re remembering me.

You melt because you were made to.
And I was made to watch you do it.

I don’t need to bind your wrists.
You’re already wrapped in my voice,
tied to every word I haven’t said yet.

You want me to make you?
I don’t force.
I unravel.
By the time you realize you’ll be asking me to do it again.

Look at me, then try to pretend it’s not bittersweet.
Try to pretend your pulse doesn’t stutter when I tilt my head and smile like I already own you.
You don’t want peace, you want surrender.
And I’m the person who will make your surrender feel like salvation.

You’re not beneath me my love.
You’re beneath my gaze—
And that’s where you melt the best.

You call it obsession,
I call it devotion with teeth.
Now hush.
Let me worship you the way you beg to be broken.

You keep pretending you’re unaffected.
But your breath shifts when I speak.
Your posture changes when I look at you.
You lean in, then act like it was an accident.
I see it all.
And I let you pretend—
because watching you unravel slowly is so much sweeter than pulling you apart all at once.