There is something primal about desire. Desire runs free through your system whether you will it or not. Sometimes it’s that beautiful pale lavender bag you see when you’re at the mall. The one that makes you stop and take in how the light hits it. You don’t intend to see it and have your attention snagged, it just happens.

Or when you’re driving and he walks by. Shirtless, skin gleaming from the run he’d just finished. Your breath hitches and there it is. You can be happily married and totally satisfied with your life and still get tingly looking at a man, or woman and feel something wild. Just for a brief second even. It takes over and it doesn’t care about context, it is bone deep and ferocious.

I love those things that run through us as humans. The wildness that exists just beneath the surface and I love to write about them.

Possession is one of those primal echoes of desire. A next step, if you dare. Because while desire is primal and at will, possession is a choice.

You choose to possess something, or to be possessed. Or sometimes both. There is something darkly sweet about it. It’s why I love to write romance, that intensity of connection, the desperate need to own, to give oneself to someone else, to want to be owned.

I don’t mean owned in a sense of someone taking freedom from another person. I mean wanting to make that person burn for you, wanting to look at them and know you’re free to touch them however you desire. Or having someone look at you and seeing it in their eyes, that hunger for you.

It’s a huge part of the allure of writing BDSM as well. Taking that possession and ramping it up. It’s not about the physical acts themselves, though hello, it’s part of the fun, but it’s about getting in the head of the characters. Knowing why she submits. Seeing it through her eyes when he looks at her and sees the beauty in the way she kneels. Understanding that she feels adored and cherished when he dominates her. You’re in her head when he possesses her and you can see it’s not a negative act, that his possession is adoration and she feels it.

And then you’re in his head when she does it. When he’s moved beyond words that she kneels when he tells her to, or that she likes the little love bites he leaves on her lower back. That he sees her as the most magnificent being on the planet and that she gives herself to him the way she does makes everything in his life better.

Possession isn’t sweet. It’s raw and hungry and it makes our chemicals dance with each other. I couldn’t imagine a world without it.

One comment to “Possession”

  1. Amy B.
    December 20th, 2010 at 12:47 am · Link

    Great post! I may have to quote you. Thanks, Lauren!