Goddess of stories

Let me stroke your hair,
this one last time.
The richness of your satin skin,
be wet with my sweat.
I may not be subtle tonight
but worry not, you are always mine.

Let me stroll on your waist,
tracing my tongue to the pubic line.
The shiver of your tibial sheen
bonded in the web of toes of my leg.
I may be a tiger tonight
but then, you are always mine.

Let me take you to the edge
so you can see me clearly.
The golden hue of your eyes
glazed with stories of your betrayal.
Will I let you go over,
nah! you were never mine.