Dearest Mathew,
I hope this letter finds you well and my answers please you.
It’s been seven days since I last felt your touch, and although some may use the word only, I cannot. Memories, however sweet, hold torturous longing.
How your eyes pulled me in that night and left me with no will of my own. I yearn to lose myself again within their constant embers of desire. They held promises of fiery delights. Oh, how you kept true, a lover’s vow. For I was ablaze within your arms, spent within silken sheets of your burning bed.
Now, I am but a slave to your love. I wish to be bound to you always — forever feed your hungry kisses. I offer my mouth and the wanton budding need that starves for you as well.
Love, I want to drown in your naked skin, be consumed by your claiming hands. Soft caresses, how they turn to empowered taking. I revel in your primal need. A lamb to be slaughtered. I’d sacrifice even moral excellence to have your love and offer mine.
I’ve held the staff of sin and tasted the salted sweetness of your magic’s elixir. I will not return to virtue. And, so you ask such foolish questions.
Do I love you?
