Passion burns us to ashes every night. I crave that fire — the one that consumes without mercy. I want to feel his eyes devouring me, dark with raw hunger, silently claiming “You’re mine.” His strong hands gripping my waist, hips, and throat, pulling me close as if he’ll never get enough.
I need to be taken deeply, greedily, passionately — so intensely that my body trembles and my mind forgets everything except him. One time is never enough; the moment we finish, the desire ignites again. I want to fall asleep exhausted yet glowing, knowing I was just possessed the way a real man takes his woman. And wake up to his kisses, his hands already exploring me once more.
I’m tired of cold nights and empty beds. Let this passion reduce me to ashes again and again — because only in that burning do I feel truly alive, truly desired. Every single night. No exceptions.
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