Arrested by His Gaze

Held still, not by his hands, not by restraints not even by words.

Just his look.

I am most definitely in trouble.

My mouth dries, I lick my lips nervously.

My stomach flips, twists, turns

Like an acrobat.

Images flick through my mind,

Clip show style,

His hand round my throat,

Back against the wall.

His fingers in my hair, yanking my head back.

His hand flat, palm striking.

Breast, buttock, cheek.

I am wet,

I am controlled

And it’s just his look

I am arrested by his gaze.