They do not know that you are the thing they all fear, as your charm pulls them closer before your tongue licks at their lips; enchanting and disarming them
I imagine them lying with you, flushed cheeks and an ache between their thighs. Their fingers trailing across your chest as they see the facade you show the world. The magic trick that lures them in, the mask that fools them all.
You’ve stopped showering before your return to me and I can always smell them on you. Sweet, flowery and delicious. I can’t help but think of them, bending to your will, as they beg for more than their dirty little minds have ever dreamt of.
I can taste them on you as your tongue probes my mouth; blood, sweat and tears are shed as the primitive beasts inside us return to each other. My mouth waters at the thought of them, ripe, eager and dripping with desire for you.
I see you. The real you, the raw, unfiltered, deep, dark essence of you. The very part of you that the rest of world recoils from, as fear ripples through them and they wonder if you are as wicked as you seem.
The truth is, you are far more wicked than any slither of you they believed they have seen. I hear it in your whispers, low and ominous as you tell me about your adventures in the world I dare not enter. Your dark, decadent, malevolence flutters into my mind and grips my souls fuelling my devotion to you.
Endless names you never learn and endless faces you forget, all drawn to you, like moths to a flame. Yet I am the only survivor, the phoenix that rose from the ashes.