<strong>Tsade ~ his Blossoming Flower</strong><br/><br/>Tsade held her to him. His fingers resting inside her as her passion sizzled as the last sparks abated.  The salty sweet taste of her flesh on his lips as he followed her rocky breath to her lips.  His eyes cooling from lust into a softer private shelter where in the after math of damnation she could be assured of benevolent rest.  The kisses to her lips no longer urgent, now conveyed a deeper awareness of her place in his life.<br/><br/>A solid support for her in his arms, as he covered her mouth with his. Opening her to his tongue’s purpose in the way he had opened her for his use. There was no disguise in the manner of his tenderness. There was no promises other than the reality of their relationship.<br/><br/>His tenderness. His caring touch.  That which he could give of love he gave to her, as if she were a rose in the spring of the year. Her power to soften him, her power to arouse and focus him in such a different way had him reeling inside. She was opening stone by her submission that other could not penetrate by gall or romance.<br/><br/>He could not fathom this. He did not try. He held her to him knowing he would be lost should she leave him. Even now, so young in their roles, he found a freedom with her no one else could give.  It was not love or romance, not in the way it had been told to him. He felt different with her in his arms and that was all he cared to know.<br/><br/>“Forever mine,” he promised as he lingered against her a little longer.<br/><br/>He slowly brought her to her feet again and steadied her on limbs that had shuddered with the violence of his lust. Her collar lead clipped in place. One word to convey all that she was to him.<br/><br/>“Home,” He whispered and turned toward the door.