Love Letter

A/N: I don't think this technically qualifies as a drabble, but I don't know what else to call it, so it's a drabble.

My sweet young jailer. My precious adversary. My master.

How I long for you. How I yearn to kiss that delectable mouth, to press my face into that soft hair.

When you deride me for some small slight or perceived error, I revel in the cold severity of your gaze. I sometimes do things to anger you just so I can have you pin me with that beautiful bitter glare.

When I dress you in your fine fitted silks and velvets, tying every ribbon, fastening every ornament just so, turning you out as the picture-perfect young lord, I am conscious of every small touch. I savor every moment that my gloved fingers brush against your bare flesh, or feel the contours of your body through the layers of your clothing.

My hands long to explore that territory at leisure, with the freedom to undress you and fondle you as I please. I wish to feel your soft, supple skin beneath my fingers. I wish to take the sweet buds of your nipples into my mouth and feel them harden against my tongue. I wish to caress all of you with my hands and mouth, leaving not a single beautiful centimetre untouched.

When you order me to do your bidding, your cold and callous tone sends a volley of luscious chills down my spine. I would do anything that harsh voice commanded me to do, contract or no. I long to hear that voice command me to take you in my hands, to touch you in your most intimate spots, to pleasure you with my mouth. I wish to hear you gasping, sighing, crying, mewling, screaming with desire, with pleasure, with release. I wish to bring you to the highest pinnacle of orgasm, and to be there to witness your complete loss of control. I wish to make you melt with my touch, my kiss, my hot breath against your skin, my lewd whispers in your ear.

Deep in the night when you lie fast asleep, dreaming of your precious revenge, I am alone upon my bed, wide awake, emptying my cock ignominiously over the bedspread and gasping my release as I remember those moments of the day when I was permitted to touch your soft skin, to address you as my master, to receive your order, or to serve you some delicate confection created by my own hand.

My imperious young lord, my deathly serious master, you who hold my heart but will never know it. My dearest enemy, my cruelest love.