She crawled in like sin on all fours,
a prayer turned backwards,
a plea I didn’t plan to answer gently.
Her back arched like a question mark,
and I answered it
with hips that didn’t ask permission.
I gripped her like a secret..
rough,
hands claiming real estate,
between spine and scream.
The room screamed before she did.
Floorboards learned rhythm,
the wall took every knock like it owed me something.
She didn’t say my name.
She barked it..
choked, broken,
spat between whimpers and gasps.
I watched her fingers claw the mattress,
like she was trying to hold on to heaven,
while I dragged her back to earth.
No eye contact.
Just control.
All mine.
I spoke only with thrusts..
deep, deliberate,
the kind that rearrange thoughts,
the kind that leave ghosts in her hips
long after I’m gone.
I let her come undone
without ever turning her over,
because some women look holiest
when they’re on their knees,
spine bowed,
mouth open,
pride shattered at the foot of a man who knows how to command.
And when it was over,
she didn’t thank me.
She couldn’t.
She just trembled,
legs still spread,
voice still lost,
dripping with a silence..
that worships.