Sometimes you just need to be reminded of how good you have it. Wrapped in my favorite silk robe with a glass of wine, remembering the feeling of his weight on me last night. The way he held me down, his hands pinning my wrists above my head while he fucked me deep and slow. The sound of our skin slapping together, my tits bouncing with every thrust, and the raw, possessive look in his eyes when he told me I belonged to him. It’s not just the sex—it’s the absolute, consuming certainty that this is where I’m meant to be. Under him. Filled by him. Owned by him. My body still aches in the best way, and my cunt throbs just thinking about the bruises he left on my hips. This isn't a secret shame; it's my proudest truth. I am so completely, utterly his.