"Parting is such sweet sorrow." or so the bard wrote. He sent her home with sweet kisses and the promise of a meeting in just a week.
Seven days of reflection on what had transpired between them. Seven days of pining for their closeness that had seemed so natural. Seven days of stifled submission coursing through her veins like an opiate.
He had conquered her and now reigned over her. Her King, her Emperor, her Sultan. He had called her His angel and He was her lord.
Each day she counted down until she was once again in His presence and could serve Him. Each day that passed, a day closer to once again being in His arms and giving herself to Him freely and without reservation or restriction.
Then the day of their meeting dawned with butterflies dancing in her stomach. Joy filled her heart knowing that in just a few hours she would once again be His.
He met her at the door, His arms open to welcome her. As she lay her head on His chest, she sighed with contentment. "I am here and I am Yours" she whispered, "Yours."