He swept you off the ground like you weighed nothing, your thighs tightening instinctively around his waist as your arms looped around his neck. Fingers delved into the silk of his hair, clutching at it as his mouth captured yours in a kiss so consuming, it felt like drowning in fire and moonlight. His hands, cool and commanding, gripped you with reverence and hunger, pulling you closer—always closer—as if distance was a sin he couldn’t bear.

Then, with a low growl that vibrated through your chest, he dropped backward onto the bed, taking you with him. The mattress gave a soft bounce beneath your bodies, a ripple of motion that only deepened the intimacy, tangled limbs and fevered breaths pressing deeper into one another.

His lips hovered over yours, brushing feather-light, before he whispered—soft but full of desperate devotion—"With you my life has a beginning, a middle and an end. When you're gone my life will be over."

And in that moment, cradled in his arms, you believed him completely.