Ruthless Creatures by J.T. Geissinger

I lose myself in a blinding whiteout of heat and pleasure,
convulsing around him, a noise like howling winds in my ears.
I hear him cursing from somewhere far off, feel him
shuddering and hear his hoarse groans, but I’m way out in
space, hurtling toward infinity.
Supernova.
Gone.
I’m feral, a wild thing uncontained. I’ve never experienced
such intense feelings of bliss and euphoria. I don’t care about
anything, past or future. Only now exists.
Only he exists, and I exist only for him.
I’m an addict, and he’s heroin, injected straight into my
veins.
The moment stretches out into timelessness. I live and die
a thousand times, resurrected into his arms only to be lost
again. I lose all sense of who I am, and that feels right, like in
losing myself, I’ve finally discovered what I’ve searched for
so desperately:
Meaning.
This connection we have right now is the only thing that
matters, because it’s the only thing that will remain when
everything else is gone. Nothing means anything, because in
the end, it all falls away.
Except this.
I know I’ll take this moment with me to my grave…and
whatever comes after.
When I come back to myself, I’m weeping.
My lover knows what to do.
Swiftly untying my hands from their restraints, he
whispers to me softly, sweet words of praise and devotion. He
takes off the blindfold, bundles me in blankets, and gathers me
into his arms. He rocks me, his arms and legs curved around
my body, his heat and strength a balm to my frazzled mind.