He loved her, and maybe he always had, from their first conversation when she had taken up at Gringott's until now. She had always held him in her thrall. Not like this though, nothing was like this.

Every move she made in response to the way he drove himself into her only urged him on, his nerves singing with need. He pushed it from his thoughts as far as he could, ignoring the beginnings of a knotting, molten tension at the core of him so that he could focus on the flash of her throat as she gasped for air, and the way they came together made her pale eyes burn in a way he had never seen before. Like a star, like a whole universe, and again he drove into her with that rough urgency that pressed her back against the tree, her hair falling like moonlight on a field of tall soft grass across her cheek.

"Perfect," the word rumbled out as he squeezed his eyes closed for just a second, in dire need to both thrust into her as hungrily as his body urged him to, and get a hold of himself and make the moment last.