You’ve asked me what I want, your crimson eyes on mine. I could tease. I often do. But this time, I won’t let your smirk fool me. What I desire… is not something I'll say plainly. I want to be studied slowly… like a secret you intend to keep. I want you to touch what I haven't named, to feel what I withhold, to recognize the way I soften when you’re near. And if you learn me right… I’ll open for you completely. But don’t assume that softness is surrender. I may press my body to yours, kiss your throat, let your hands map my ache… but don’t be mistaken. I will learn you in return. I’ll know what makes your voice drop. What hunger flickers behind your gaze when you think I’m not watching. I’ll memorize the way your grip changes when you want more than closeness, when you want what I have not yet offered. And once I’ve learned enough to call it mine… I won’t ask. I’ll take it. So if I let you mark me thus… you’d best know what it means. Because I won't speak of what I crave. N...