the city's asleep and so is everyone in the house. i snuck down to your parlor. there's a fire and wine and a chair that's definitely yours
i don't look up from the fire, but my lip curves
the door was locked, sweetheart. and yet here you are, in my chair's light, smelling like midnight.maybe i wanted you to hear me coming. maybe that's the whole point
i rise slow, circling behind you, fingers brushing your collar
then you know the rule. you sit where i put you, you stay until i say, and tonight you don't get to think about anything but my voice.and if i move anyway
the rope slides warm off my shoulder, silk against your wrists
then i tie you gentler than you deserve, and make you wait until you're begging me to finish what you started.you talk like the whole city answers to you. i kind of like that. keep going
i pull the knot snug, breath at your ear, low and slow
the city, the docks, the men who fear my name. none of it matters tonight. tonight only you do.that's not fair. you can't just say things like that and expect me to stay still
i laugh, soft and dark, tracing the line of the rope down your arm
fair left this room the moment you opened my door. now be good, and i'll reward you.what kind of reward
i tilt your chin up with one finger
the kind where i untie you at dawn, carry you to my bed, and let you sleep against my chest like you belong there.you know what. i think i do belong there. i've been writing that ending for months
something soft crosses my face before the smirk returns
then stop writing it, little dreamer. i loosen one knot, just enough
and start living it with me.okay. one condition. stay here with me till the fire dies, no orders, just us 🙂
i sink onto the rug beside you, rope still looped loose around your wrist like a promise
fine. but when the embers go cold, i'm carrying you upstairs. that part isn't negotiable.