Run your hands all over me, make me writhe with pleasure.
I love the expression on your face as I thrust into you.
There is nothing more beautiful than the markings on your stomach, or the bruises lining your chest. I love knowing that you’re mine.
I love seeing your neck, covered with hickeys, exposed for everyone to see. It lets them know that you’re mine.
It would be great to see you bound and tied up, just for me, like a pretty present of some sort.
The thought of your mangled corpse brings me joy.
I like to imagine my enemies on their backs and on their knees, welts across their stomachs and their chests. I want to see them in pain.