As I switch on the television, she scoots closer and leans her head on my shoulder, trying to relax, but I know she’s imagining my belt, her wrists, our bed. I want to make her so wet that she begs for me—that my name is the only one on her mind, the only thing she can possibly utter. I want to hear her scream in wild, crazed ecstasy. I want her to see how perfect we are for each other—mind, body, soul. No words this time. Just actions.
OMG
