Your violence is beautiful to me.

I've watched temper tantrums before. Screaming until lungs are raw, throwing dishes and paper, stomping feet and angry faces. But you- you are like watching a hurricane. I am afraid, and I am captivated by the whirlwind in front of me. Fury rolls off you in waves, like thunder and storm clouds just before lightning strikes. And when you do strike, there is only white light. Pain. Heat. Adoration. You hurt me so well.

I growl and snap and kick my little feet, but it's useless. Not against the force that you are when you are angry. You slam me into the wall and I drag you down to the floorboards right then and there, wrapping you in my arms and legs and lips while you claim me like a savage. Anger turns to lust- I have unleashed the beast. Looking into your eyes, I can see it. Feral and hungry, you devour my body inch by inch until I scream from the hot pain of your teeth and the throbbing in my intimate flesh. Your eyes glow from your position above me.

Mine.

Yours. Yes- please! Something rises inside me, uncoils like a snake. My fingers fist in your hair, I match you bite for bite as we roll, bruising our bodies against the hard floor. Our coupling is vicious and sudden, rutting like animals. Front to back we rock, I on my hands and knees while your fingers dig into my hips. You're hard, lover. Every inch of you is cruel angles and sharp edges and I love it.

Heat. I am on fire, inside to out, consuming me in a wave of passion hot enough to scorch my skin. The flames lick from my body to yours, I hear you howl but I am too lost in my own torment. We slump forward, your breathing ragged and heavy against my neck. Rough fingers slide up my sides, arms, to twine my fingers with yours. You have forgotten what you were angry about in the first place, fury replaced with contented silence. The beast has been sated, and you are mine once more.