The frown eased from her face, and her soft blue eyes met his. “Yes.” She reached out to grasp his arm, careful not to jostle Orion. “I love you. I’ve loved you since you trusted me to fly your ship. Since you carried me on your shoulder and trusted me to kill the spiders before they killed us. Since you pushed me away from you and fought every instinct in your body to give me a choice in our being together.”
Asier sank down onto one knee so that he could be face-to-face with Lyra as he gathered her close to him. “Before I knew you were pregnant, before I knew we had mated, I missed you with my very soul.”
She touched his cheek, kissed his brow. “Let’s put the baby to bed,” she said softly.
He unsealed the berth next to his own, and Lyra used the blankets to shape a protective nest. He laid his son gently into it, and gazed down at him with a fullness of feeling that threatened to overwhelm him.
After a long moment, Lyra’s hand found his. He let her lead him out of the baby’s berth, and into his own. She pulled the hatch shut, and when she turned to face him, her eyes had turned to blue fire.
Asier smiled slowly, retreating as she advanced. The back of his thighs hit the bed, forcing him to sit. Moving with leonine grace, Lyra flowed into his lap, her thighs straddling his hips. She slid her hands over his chest, over his shoulders, and around his neck. Her lips found his, and he was lost in her.
There was no threat, no deadline, no hurry at all. They explored each other with languid pleasure, rediscovering the taste and touch and feel of bodies and spirits who’d almost been lost to each other.
And with each touch, each taste, the slow burn ignited into a flame. They undressed each other, laughing at their clumsiness, and then gasping as hot skin met hot skin. Asier was hard as steel, and when he stroked gentle fingers between her thighs, he found Lyra just as ready for him. A pulse of razor-sharp longing cut through him.
“I can’t wait any longer,” he said hoarsely.
“I can’t either.” She shifted and reached down to grasp him, guiding his shaft to the apex of her body.
Asier shuddered as his crown breeched the slick, tight heat of her. She sank down on him, agonizingly slow as her body relearned the size of him. He groaned at the feel of her inner muscles stretching to accommodate his thick shaft.
Holding Lyra tightly in his arms, he rolled her onto her back. Her long, slim legs wrapped around his waist, and her hips tilted to take him deeper—to take all of him.
With one final, hard press, he seated himself to the hilt. Lyra gasped, her back arching, her lips parting softly. He had to kiss those lips. He tasted her as he moved inside her—sweeping his tongue into her mouth while his hips worked a strong tempo between her thighs.
“Asier,” she panted his name, her fingers digging into the muscles of his back. “I’m going to—” She gasped. “I’m going to—”
And then she fell apart in his arms, her head thrown back, her body wracked with wave after wave of explosive pleasure. Her inner muscles clenched tightly around his cock, and the exquisite sensation of it pulled him over the edge with her. He thrust himself deep, growling out his love for her as his body was wracked by the pleasure of hers.
They lay together quietly, peacefully. Neither of them slept, but they lingered in a half-dozing state, conscious thought abandoned for the immediacy of visceral things like the feel of each others’ bodies, the comfort of their nearness.
“Asier?” Lyra said drowsily.
“Hm?”
“I’m not going to live as long as you. What will you do when I leave you in the middle of your lifespan?” Her voice broke. “And what about Orion? I’ll die before he’s even—”
“You won’t,” Asier said gruffly, crushing her tightly to him.
“I have every faith in your ability to defend against danger,” she said sadly. “But even you can’t fight off old age.”
“I don’t have to, love. You’ll live as long as any Scaeven.”
Lyra pushed back from him, staring up into his face with a skeptical frown. “What?”
“You’ve noticed Orion has made you stronger? And that you heal faster?”
“And hungrier.”
Asier smiled. “That’s not his only gift. His mother will live a full Scaeven lifespan. You’ll get to see him grow, see who he becomes. We both will, side by side.”
Lyra curled up against him. He could hear the tears in her voice, feel them on his chest when she asked, “Really?”
“Yes.”
It took some time for Lyra to collect herself. He simply held her while she came to terms with her new reality.
When her tears had dried and her body relaxed again, she asked, “What will my life be like now?” Her fingers stroked idly over his chest.
He pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head. “Whatever you want. If you want to keep piloting, we’ll get you through the licensing process and find you a post. If you want to sit at home and arrange flowers all day, you can do that. Whatever makes you happy.”
“There are flowers in Scaevos?”
Asier inhaled the scent of her hair. “Yes. Many. On my home moon, Varan, we have a kind of… a rose, is the closest comparison. It’s called rathira. It reminds me of you.” Her skin and hair were same colors as the variegated peach-gold petals. And, like the rose, her velvety soft, delicate beauty came paired with a wicked ferocity. The thorns of a rathira could pierce even Scaeven skin.
Lyra pressed her lips to his shoulder in a tender kiss. He felt them curve up into a smile just before she nipped him with her teeth.
Asier grinned and rolled her onto her back, using his big body to pin her to the bed. “Don’t start something you can’t finish,” he said huskily.
“Oh, I intend to finish,” she assured him with a wicked smile.
And she did. Twice.
Much, much, later the cries of a baby brought them both to full alertness. They pulled on their clothes and went to the neighboring berth. Lyra hung back, letting Asier be the one to pick Orion up, to comfort him.
She leaned against the bulkhead, watching her big, strong Scaeven gently handle his newborn son, and felt, deep in her soul, that she was home.