Rough handling.

This is what I remember.

You, pinned to the wall, hand at your throat, hand in your hair.

Neck, exposed. Pulse beneath my lips.

Bracing you against the wall; an unsnapping, hands at your shirt – over your head.

Bared skin. I almost regret the hunger that followed. I did not spare the moment to memorize the sight.

Your nipple, caught between my teeth. Feeling it harden. Throb.

You were a craving. I named your curves with bared teeth and unrelenting intent.

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