The trumpet sounds and I am locked in. He plays the game like a matador, enticing me with beautiful visions of us. He calls my name and whispers that my desires are hidden in his hands, waiting for me to come over and peak. He intrigues me with his magic, disappearing into the shadows, watching me seductively. He silently calls for me to come closer and experience his fire. His passion shows in his movement. I long for his touch and I inch closer, begging for the slightest sense of his energy. My body suffers, needing his warmth to calm my storms. The game is too much to bear. I cry for his breath on my neck. I know the game he plays, enticing me so, only to ravage me; Pierce me with his aggression. Yet, I cannot resist the beautiful visions. Each time I enter his arena, we dance the same dance. The end is the same. He pulls me close with passion, and thrusts his flames over me. Igniting my love and piercing my heart. Again and again....piercing my heart. My heart bleeds. My wounds are open again and exposed. And all I can think about is his skin on mine. His hands gripping my body. His lips and tongue soothing away the wounds he's created. He colors my scars with lust. He fucks me, and neither of us pays any mind to the pain. In this moment, it ceases to exist. He is my remedy...my drug. He blinds me with illusions and I can't see past his mouth on my breasts. I can't feel beyond his grip in my hair. I cannot breathe without him pumping his erection into my soul....again and again and again. He saves me.