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"The silence broke—he finally spoke. His version of the ache."

What you’re about to read is his response—

a masculine surrender to the power of Dominion Between Thighs.

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I kissed the temple in your throat,

Not knowing it would echo through my bones.

You moved like worship, like a slow, sweet oath—

And I was the sinner who moaned.

Your touch rewired everything I knew

My hands trembled just being inside you.

You guided me—soft, commanding, divine

I thought I had you, but you had my spine.

You moaned my name, and I forgot how to breathe,

That sound wrapped around me like silk on my teeth.

When you called me daddy, my heart broke clean.

Because no one’s ever touched me where I dream.

You rode me like a storm—

And I begged for calm in your heat

My knees hit the floor

But I swear, it felt like peace.

I clutched your thighs just to hold my fate

I was shaking, and you said, “let it go, wait…”

But I couldn’t! I needed all of you.

Your scent, your sighs, the way you move.

Now I’m hooked—

On your moans, your lips, your sweat,

I can’t fuck you without loving you,

... And that’s the part I never expected yet.

So yes, I begged.

I’d beg again.

Because your temple isn’t just pleasure—

It’s where I finally let someone in. 🥀

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The Moan Was Mine (disclaimer)

Though this response speaks from a masculine tongue, every word still drips with the ink of Noir Synn. Masculine doesn’t mean male—this was written by a woman who knows how men break, beg, and burn.

xoxo, S.🌹