Every inch the mighty king you were destined to be you enter my chamber. Breathless, enthralled by your predator grace, I watch as you make your way to me. Your every footfall stifled by the carpet, your gaze pinions me to the spot, heated, and smoldering it elicits delicious shivers. I can do no more than anxiously await your touch, a willing prey to your advances. Upon reaching me on the wide bed, your caress is whisper soft along my cheek. Your long, elegant fingers coast gently down my skin, grazing the golden-red collar around my neck with deliberate slowness. The Norian royal crest emblazoned across the aureate surface is a proclamation to all in your kingdom that I am your property, your pleasure slave… your favorite. You stoop down bringing your beautiful face closer to mine, so close that I can smell the sweet scent of the wine you had at dinner. A smile curves your lips as your thumb continues its gentle caress along my cheek and your kiss is sweet, gentle, bliss is a sigh upon your heated mouth.
