my bones are caving in

It's in the stars
it's been written in the scars on our hearts

Her hands roam over him, and he loves it, knowing the changes the region was having on him, wondering at the new strength his body was capable of, and seeking only to ever improve it - with her, for her, always linked to her in some way. Her touch leaves burning embers of fire in their wake along his senses, guttural growls rumbling from deep within as they tease and toy with him, so pleasurable and yet not as satisfying as he needs.

Then they are repositioned, and he is lifting himself more upright with his arm extended, leaning against the bed, the other holding her, leveraging her. A hissing breath leaves lips that are pressed against her chest as she lowers herself onto him, as her hot depths envelop him, as he shudders and shivers with the effort of restraint against everything that is her. Her nails drag along his shoulders, he feels the heat of his own blood rise to the surface of his broken skin, and he moans against it, his own mouth seeking to press hot kisses against her chest, to take a breast within and suck a sensitive nipple, to let his teeth and tongue dance around the areola.

And they are rocking, a rhythm they know well by know, his hips rolling with the action, his breath coming in deep and hot and hard, his cock pulsing in ecstasy at her tightness, her wetness, her heat. A hand roams down the small of her back, pressing into her, helping with the motion, the rocking, the grinding, the thrusting, as his mouth trails kisses along her collarbone, and the curves that part of her anatomy offer him.

That we're not broken just bent
and we can learn to love again

CHULANE