Ba mhaith liom cad nach féidir liom a bheith acu.

Catch me in the emerald rolling hills.

Snatch my breath away with a kiss deep enough to touch my soul.

Under the pregnant moon, pin me against ageless stone.

Hands, running over skin, soft moans escaping both of us.

Can you hear me beg over the crash of the waves?

Gortaítear dom. 

It sounds like thunder, was that a flash of lightening? 

Make me scream like a bean sidhe. 

There is urgency, I am starting to ache.

Run your tongue over me, can you taste the sweat mixed with the rain?

I will cling to you, your hands in my hair.

Want a líonadh dom.

Make me arch, make me whimper.

Whisper your demands to me, soft and low against my ear.

Lift me up, back to the wall.

A Celtic séis plays in my mind.

Haunting and beautiful like this moment.

A bheith ar mo rí.

I am banríon na drúis.

In this, our time, possess me. 

Own me. Need me.

Claim all that is yours.

Lips swollen, crushed under a biting kiss.

Tabhair dom an domhain

My own orgasm cried out in offering to the old gods.

Again, and again, like the rolling ocean at the bottom of the cliff.

We've endured the raging storm, the thunder fading.

Still tangled, braced against the wall, a final thrust, deeper, more intrusive.

Beidh mé bogha

Tionchar an-mhór dom, a chosaint dom, ghrá dom.

~The Slut

*BSWK*