Will you be mine?

“Will you be mine?”
He asked to own her pleasure
to take all her hidden into his keeping.
She saw the gift of his words, his ownership
And gave him her unreserved yes.
With his desire now free to impose, the Master eased her will
into the shape and measure of his craving
showed her how he saw her, beautiful,
the red velvet of an unfurling rose.
“You are mine.” He said.
His declaration cupped her sweet, into the shape of his body,
claimed her most soft, tender, and needy into the palm of his hand.
So she swelled with dew on red petals, bent low with a compelling need to please.
She offered her trust in the silk of decadence
all her beauty his to taste and tease.
“I am yours,” she said feeling fervent,
Laying her claim to his strength, and focus, and attention
Their understanding binding them, twining them, uniting them
His claim becomes hers, to keep, to own, to take.