Disclaimer: You know the drill. I don't own anything in the Who-verse.
Authors Note: This came to me at 4am when I couldn't sleep and needed posting - raw and unbeta'd. Inspired by Possession by Sarah McLachlan.
It is the way his hand seeks out mine, fingers gently caressing, when we walk down a darkened street.
It is the way those same hands, now hot and frantic, tear the shirt from my back, allowing cool air to soothe my heated skin.
It is the way he pushes me back, hard into the pillow, branding my face, neck and chest with his lips and tongue; marking his territory.
It is the way he entwines his long fingers in my hair, his eyes boring into mine, promising the world, as I shatter beneath him.
It is the way he lays his hand flat, fingers spread wide on my chest, and feels my heart hammering beneath my ribs, as we descend back to Earth.
It is the way his eyes, with an expression that seems older than time, fix on mine, letting me know that he sees the pain I carry and understands it.
It is the way that when we sleep he never lets me go, his arm tucked around my waist, drawing me to him, his head on my breast.
It is the way that when the monsters come and the nightmares return, he kisses the tears of helplessness from my cheeks, and comforts me into the dawn.
These are the ways Ianto Jones possesses my soul; and why I surrender it willingly.