Little appetites accumulate as desires deepen and fancies swell.
It is your neck I want at first to lightly kiss then tease your ear lobes with little nibbles, reminding you of who owns you.
The promises of reason do not ignite the soul; as such they fire no sparks.
And now, it is you, naked, that I want, to wrest from you, surrender and submission.
You become mine to please and pleasure, as you are treasured and taken, the slave transformed to goddess, in the magic night.