Treat me like a toy

You're looking at something petite and dangerously inviting, the kind of body that makes your hands feel restless and possessive.

You want to pick her up — no, to pick this person up, reposition them exactly where you want, watch the expression shift between surrender and demand.

You feel it in your chest first, then lower — that specific hunger for someone small enough to handle completely, to press against a wall and hold there while they arch into you, asking without words to be used exactly as promised.