Surrender

   You tell me to give in to you. Surrender. But I can’t. I can’t let go of that last little bit of myself that makes me who I am. You frown and coax, cajole with words and touch. Your mouth and hands on my skin, stroking, gliding, lifting me up- almost free- except for that one last strand of consciousness still holding me to reality, to the here and now.
   Your mouth by my ear, whispered words of love, affection, pleasure as I touch you- driving you free before me. I lie beside your panting body, still me, still myself, and I stare out into the night, at the fat silver-white disk of the moon shining through the trees.
   You get up- leave me- and I try not to feel pleased as my body grows cool, my heart calms, and the sweat on my skin dries.
   You return and there’s something in your hands. I gaze up at your body, admiring the clean lines and shadowed hollows distantly. I’m there, you’re there. I cannot disconnect.
   You straddle my hips, your warm fingers circling my wrists, and I see what you had in your hands.
   Interest quickens low in my body as black silk glides coolly over my skin- abruptly drawing tight as you bind my arms above my head, securing me to our bed. I gaze up into your beautiful face; see the cool detachment, the determination barely concealed underneath, and something inside squeezes tight.
   Your hands on my legs, drawing them apart, and the feel of silk biting deep as you bind me.
   Your big, hot body settles over mine, and I fly free of myself, shattering, my mind in millions of crystalline stars.
   I cannot see, cannot hear anything in that void, and I surrender.