52: Belonging together

*Ben*

She is mine.

I almost say aloud the words that reverberate through my soul. She belongs to me in the same manner that clouds belong to the sky and leaves to the trees and ore to the earth, part and parcel, a piece of the whole. I am not one for poetry, yet for her I wish I had the ability to write sonnets. I wish I had met her at a ball, had courted her properly with flowers, strolls, and rides in the park. But romantic gestures are as foreign to me as love.

I have never wanted emotional entanglements, yet I can’t deny that she has the ability to tie me up in knots.

Sliding my mouth from hers, I graze my lips along the underside of her chin, relishing her soft moan. She is so quick to burn. I love that about her. From the beginning she has never played hard to get in the bedchamber. She welcomes me, responds, and gives back.

Is it possible to love things about a person without loving the person?

So many things about her brings me pleasure. The way she laughs. The way her ey