“You’re invited to my boudoir” I whispered.
He kissed my nose.
He leaned in slowly,
Soft breath fanning my face and touched his lips on mine.
“What else do you need?”
“Show me.” I said.
Fingers caressed my skin,
He groaned with appreciation.
My scars didn’t deter his desire.
he kissed the cut on my side, the long and angry one of my chest.
He was embracing the past that had moulded me into who I am today.
For the first time I didn’t flinch from the attention to those places.
He worshiped my body.