It is in the way you surrender, a quiet, unspoken, gentle offering of yourself, inevitable, unquestioning. It is in the way you bow your head and wait, even without experience, you know, like you have seen inside my head, you understand exactly how to elicit that aggressive response from me, to raise that hunger that you love. It is in the way you look sideways at me, find the courage to be cocky, checking, checking that you haven’t gone too far (‘too far? am I still ok? is this ok?’). It is in the way you care for me, call me sweetheart, baby love, want to wrap me up, look after me. It is in the way you tilt your head to lean against me, weighty, solid, offering me your puppy head to pet. It is in the way you bump into me when we walk, reach for my hand, seek contact, anything, crave it. It is in the way you let the fear show, on your face, in your body, in your voice, you know I love that. It is in the way your anticipation moves and breathes, like it lives outside of you, exists just to lead me into the chase.
You are prey. It is not passive, it is not a stillness… it is movement and dance and invitation and offering, a distress signal sent straight to my heart.
You are prey… you are good at it.
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2 comments
Gods this is just…. perfect. Exactly. I'll be linking to this :)
Bellaforte: Thank you so much!
I could write about this forever, I had to cut out so much. Those glances when he thinks I'm not looking, that 'almost skip' when he trots off to do something for me, that smile (you know the one…), the one where he *knows* he has teased me into aggression… *swoon*
Ferns