"Exactly."
We made love that night with a different quality than before. Not just passion and need, but permanence.
Zorn's hands trembled as they traced the curve of my spine, and I realized with a jolt that he was nervous. This massive warrior who'd faced combat without flinching was shaking as he touched me. Because this mattered. Because we both knew what this meant.
"Bea," he whispered against my throat, his secondary tongue flicking out to taste my pulse. The dual sensation made me gasp, my fingers digging into the thick muscles of his shoulders.
I pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, the deep depths that saw me completely. "I'm yours," I said simply. "All of me. Always."
Something fierce and tender blazed across his features. Then his mouth found mine, and there was nothing tentative about the kiss. His primary tongue swept against mine while his secondary one traced patterns along my jaw, down my neck, each touch setting my nerves alight.
My medical training catalogued sensations even as I drowned in them: the acceleration of my heartbeat, the dilation of blood vessels causing heat to bloom across my skin, the rush of neurotransmitters flooding my system. But the doctor in me fell silent as Zorn's hands moved lower, cupping my breasts with a reverence that made my breath catch.
"Beautiful," he rumbled, his voice dropping to that subvocal frequency that vibrated through my entire body. His thumbs circled my nipples, and I arched into his touch with a moan I couldn't contain.
He lowered his head, and the sensation of both tongues working in tandem against my sensitive flesh nearly undid me. One circled while the other flicked, the dual stimulation creating a feedback loop of pleasure that had me writhing beneath him.
"Zorn, please—" I wasn't even sure what I was begging for, only that I needed more. Needed all of him.
His ridge, that distinctive Zandovian feature, pressed hot and rigid against my thigh. I reached down to wrap my hand around his impressive length, marveling at the texture. The ridge was firm beneath my palm, the nubs along it providing friction as I stroked. Zorn's four eyes squeezed shut, a groan tearing from his chest that I felt against my breasts.
"If you keep doing that, this will be over far too quickly," he warned, his accent thickening with arousal.
"Good," I breathed. "I want you out of control. I want you as desperate as I am."
He growled, actually growled, and captured my wrists, pinning them gently above my head with one massive hand. "Desperate, am I? Let me show you desperate, little medic."
His free hand slid between my thighs, and I was already slick with want. His fingers explored with the careful precision of someone committing every detail to memory. The places that made me gasp, the rhythm that made my hips buck against his hand. When one thick finger pressed inside me, I cried out at the stretch.
"So tight," he murmured, wonder in his voice. "So perfect. Are you ready for me, Bea?"
"Yes," I managed, though my voice was barely recognizable. "Now, Zorn. Please, now."
He released my wrists to position himself, the broad head of his ridge pressing against my entrance. Our eyes locked as he pushed forward slowly, giving me time to adjust to his size. The ridge provided delicious friction, the nubs catching and dragging against my inner walls in ways that made stars burst behind my eyelids.
"Breathe," he coached, even though he looked like he was barely holding on himself. Sweat gleamed on his gray-blue skin, muscles corded with tension. "That's it, just like that."
I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, and we both groaned at the sensation. He was so big, stretching me in ways that bordered on too much but somehow landed squarely on perfect. When he was fully seated, we both stilled, trembling with the effort of not moving.
"I love you," he said, the words rumbling through both our bodies. "My mate. My heart."
"I love you," I gasped back. "Move, Zorn. I need?—"
He withdrew and thrust back in, and rational thought fled. The rhythm he set was deep and steady, each stroke dragging that ridged length against spots that made my toes curl. I met him thrust for thrust, our bodies finding a synchronization that felt inevitable, like we'd been made to fit together exactly this way.
His secondary tongue found my neck again, adding another layer of sensation, and I shattered. My orgasm rolled through me in waves, my inner muscles clamping down on himrhythmically. I heard myself cry out his name, but it sounded distant, muffled by the roaring in my ears.
"Yes," Zorn groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic. "Again, Bea. Come for me again."
His hand found my center, thumb circling the sensitive bundle of nerves there, and impossibly, I felt another climax building. When it crashed over me, he followed, his roar of completion echoing off the walls as he pulsed deep inside me.
We collapsed together, sweaty and trembling, his weight a welcome pressure pinning me to the bed. His hearts thundered against my chest, both of them slightly out of sync, a uniquely Zandovian rhythm I was learning to love.
"Stay," I whispered, though he'd already shown no signs of moving. "Just like this."
"Always," he promised, pressing kisses to my temple, my cheek, my lips. "This is our beginning, not our ending. We'll face whatever comes next together."
And lying there in his arms, our bodies still joined, the truth of it settled into my bones. Whatever the universe threw at us, rescue missions, diplomatic crises, the weight of building something new from the ashes of what we'd lost, we would face it as one.
