Don't move—
Not until I say.
Your pleasure belongs to me tonight,
And I intend to make you obey.
Eyes on me.
Good.
Now breathe me in, slow and deep,
Like sin wrapped in satin,
Like something you swore you'd never need.
My touch isn’t gentle—
It’s deliberate,
A promise carved into trembling skin.
I want every gasp, every shiver,
Every secret you've buried within.
Whimper if you must,
But you won’t beg yet—
I haven’t earned it.
Not until your body forgets
What restraint ever meant.
You're mine now, love—
A canvas for my wicked delight,
And I’ll paint you in moans
Until you forget your name
And remember only mine.
This isn’t softness.
This is power wrapped in perfume,
In whispers that command,
And lips that taste like your undoing.
-
Author:
Sailian (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: May 23rd, 2025 01:11
- Category: Erotic
- Views: 8
Offline)
Comments2
A most erotic, sensual poem where sex and power become one. Strangely these two are often confused and melded as the Marquis de Sade. Nicely written
A lovely sensual write around sex and power, slightly on the erotic side, nicely expressed and written
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