He's not sure of the exact date and time when he fell so irretrievably in love with her.
All he knows is that this feeling that burns deep within, that drives him to push her harder, is the one desire that fuels him, more so than the air that he breaths and the food that he eats.
Maybe it was the day her hair clip slipped, freeing her riotous hair, resulting in a spoilt potion.
His anger at her carelessness had awakened her inner Gryffindor lioness.
Her passion, her anger, the fever that boiled within for him exploded like the cauldron.
That first kiss was brutal, all consuming, ensnaring.
Their coupling was fierce.
Clothes ripped, skin bruised, teeth nibbled, tongues soothed, hips thrust, earth shattered, voices roared, completion stilled... her workspace resembled a war-torn landscape.
She stayed that night with him in his bed.
Their later coupling was slower, more sedate; a gentle mapping of erogenous zones, a detailing of likes, loves and dislikes. A sensual dance as old as time itself.
What surprises him is that she's still here with him. That she stayed beyond the years of her apprenticeship, that she agreed to marry him and that every anniversary she wakes him in the same manner with his cock in her lush mouth as she sucks him to completion.