My senses are overflowing and I'm very much overwhelmed but it's just easier and much less complicated to let him continue. It's almost exhausting to struggle against him, trying to convince him to stop. He won't listen, he never listens. I allow him to leave marks on the untouched skin on my neck, I allow him to leave the marks to prove that I'm his. On some sickening level, it feels nice. Even if it pains me, and fills me with the darkest, most utter shame and guilt, it was nice.
After he's satisfied with the multiple red marks that he's left down my neck, his mouth raises once more to meet mine. My hands are buried in his messy hair, the strands sliding in between my fingers. I feel dirty, filthy, and even rotten but my mind is on a different high. What I would've normally rejected, isn't a thought that had priority right now.
