"I'm a pirate." I state simply, because that should explain everything, though I do humor him with a bit of elaboration. "I take what I want. When I want it."

He's lifting me a bit, but our heights aren't so distant that I have to tiptoe where he guides me. I can feel heat radiating off him, concentrated in his core. It's enticing, sending all these lovely little electric bursts through my nerves, pleasant trembles down my spine.

I slide a hand down his chest between us, and grip at his shirt. My voice is even now, my words full of weight, though I'm not asking for control of the situation. Far from it, I think I very much want to let him bend me over the counter, or kitchen table, and have his way with me.

But that is what I want, and I'm still in a place of power because I know I want it.

"With my own hands."