Everything I touch.

Skin as delicate as satin. Warm and smooth. Slick with sweat. A blank canvas ready for colour.

Muscles bulge and strain against the bonds. But you will not be going anywhere. Even if leather and steel were to fail; I would not.

The scent; A drug. Hot and begging. Speaking volumes without saying anything. A taste of divine emotion and base instinct.

Haggard breaths. A pulse of discordant melodies. The drum beat echos in my ears so sweetly.

You wait in anticipation for that touch. My touch. A caress to put the devil to shame. A rapture stronger than ecstasy.

A gentle raking of the skin to begin, but intensity will increase. Talons poising to maul.

Then pointed teeth pressing into exposed flesh. A bite sharper than a thousand blades.

By tooth and by claw, blood will flow. The hunger must be sated.

For despite casual appearance; I am built to savage.

And everything I touch turns to red.