I've learned to live with these fatal gifts
and still you're mine
It still warms him to the very marrow every time he hears those words on her lips. The same thrill courses through his chest, expanding until he feels as though his heart might burst right through the cage of his ribs. He doesn’t know how to put into words everything she makes him feel. Everything she means to him.
He presses his lips against her, a small huff of breath, an almost laugh, escaping to fan across her skin. He revels in the softness of her, still almost disbelieving that she could be so indelibly his. “I will never tire of hearing you say it,” he whispers against her, eyes slipping closed. “Just as I will never be able to adequately express how much I love you.”
He wishes he could share it with her. Wishes he could open himself up just so that she could see what she does to him. Just so that she could understand how completely she tamed the carefully guarded feral beast that had once resided in his heart.
He slides his lips along her neck, pouring every ounce of his love, so fierce and possessive, into the motion. As though his touch, such a simple gesture, could adequately express everything inside his heart and soul. His lips move back, tenderly trailing her ribs until the can feel the beat of her heart beneath them. Her beautiful, generous heart. The one the could find within itself the ability to love a man like him.
He aches for her, the beat of his heart so easily matching hers, though it echoes silently in his chest. It his hers, after all. Only hers.