Martin. Candles. A warm midnight breeze stirring the curtains. Headlights rolling across his back as a car passes silently in the street below. The charcoal shadow of a large wardrobe stands like a sentinel by the door, though it isn't him who needs guarding. Nothing is distinct in this twilit room except that voice, holding you powerless to stop him, to stop any of this, and why want that when the desire he creates burns so deeply inside of you that you know you will never fully recover, never be released from this spell he has too easily weaved around your heart, your body. Everything you are is laid bare for him tonight, and though he will certainly destroy you, there is only one thought pounding through your veins: please please please. You can almost hear the sweat rolling gently down his back as his fingertips graze your skin, scorching the surface and leaving a trail that will be impossible for another to follow. Lips, neck, tongue, clavicle, breath, ribcage, teeth, thighs and then then then then. Your heel trailing up his spine and that voice humming in parallel to your own pleasure. Strong hands pushing behind knees, back arching in that perplexing dance of escape and surrender. He is chasing that desire, that want that he has set in motion in your abdomen, in your legs and arms and mouth and he is gaining, gaining, now gone - and then, then, then. Above you, that voice. Blue flashes in the sea of grey. He is there, with you, over, inside, chasing, chasing, riding forward, silent and hard and fast and gaining. Ankle meets neck. Knee, shoulder. Lower, closer, deeper. Almost almost almost. The air between your bodies thick, sweat mingling, yours and his. Almost, almost. He is chasing it, gaining, and his eyes close, lips part, silent moans and ragged breath and fingers, hair, chest, teeth, happening, it is happening, now now, catching it he is catching it and you're biting down, stifling a scream to the gods to make it last, to make it stop, that blinding painful piercing of ecstasy, and he is there there there there over and over over over and now there just there that voice, calling in your ear, resounding in your mind, no words for what he is feeling, what you have felt, what has been branded inside of you. His weight, hot and heavy, bring you back and then down… down… into the arms of a sleep the likes of which you have never been given before, held fast in the arms of a man the likes of which you will never see again… until morning.