Andre stretched out beside her, propped on one elbow. His free hand traced the curve of her cheek, her jaw, the line of her throat. Everywhere he touched, warmth followed. Not the burning need of their previous encounters, but something deeper. Something that spoke of forever.
"You're so beautiful," he murmured. "So strong. So perfect."
Joy caught his hand, pressing it to her heart. "We did it. We're here. That's all that matters."
He kissed her again, slow and deep. The kiss went on and on, unhurried exploration that made her toes curl. When he finally pulled back, they were both breathing harder.
"Let me worship you," he said softly. "Let me show you my love."
She nodded, losing words as his mouth found her throat. He kissed a path down her body, pausing at each bruise, each scrape. His lips were a benediction to her wounded skin. When he reached her breasts, he lavished attention on each one, tongue circling the sensitive peaks until she arched beneath him.
"Andre..." His name was a sigh.
He continued his journey south, pressing kisses to her ribs, her belly, the curve of her hip. His hands parted her thighs gently, and she opened for him without hesitation. The first touch of his tongue made her gasp, fingers tangling in his hair.
He took his time, licking her with patient dedication. Long, slow strokes that built pleasure like a tide. His hands held her hips steady, keeping the pace gentle, thorough. She felt worshipped. Cherished. Loved beyond measure.
When her climax approached, it came soft as dawn. No explosive crash but a sweet unfolding that had her sighing his name. He worked her through it, drawing out every tremor until she tugged at his shoulders.
"Come here," she whispered. "I need you."
He moved up her body, settling between her thighs with careful weight. The first touch of his cock against her entrance made Joy's whole body tremble. This was Andre. Her mate. The man who'd learned to run beside her, who'd fought with her, who'd trusted her strength. Love crashed through her that was so intense she had to blink back tears.
Their eyes met and held as he positioned himself. The raw adoration in his gaze made her chest ache with something too big for her body to contain. She loved this man so much it hurt.
The first push was slow, his thick length stretching her open inch by devastating inch. Joy's breath hitched as he filled her, the delicious burn making her pussy clench around him. He watched her face for any discomfort, but all she felt was completion. Like every lonely night, every empty moment had led to this. To him inside her, completing her in every way.
She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, needing every inch of him buried inside her. "Andre," she breathed, her voice breaking. Her hands stroked down his back, memorizing every ridge of muscle, every scar. "You're so fucking beautiful I could weep."
He began to move, slow and deep, his cock dragging against her inner walls with each withdrawal. The friction was exquisite, each thrust hitting places inside her that made stars burst behind her eyelids. But it was more than physical. Every time he filled her completely, she felt their souls touch. The connection between them blazed brighter with each movement, each shared breath.
"I love you," she gasped as he ground against her clit. Her pussy clenched around him, already so close to the edge. "God, Andre, I love you so much it terrifies me. Like I might die from how much I need you."
"I know," he breathed against her neck, his voice rough with matching emotion. "I feel it too. Like my heart's too small for what you make me feel."
They moved together in the soft lamplight. His cock stretched her perfectly, the thick length of him touching places that made her whole body sing. She could feel every ridge, every vein as he slid in and out of her soaking pussy. The wet sounds of their joining filled the quiet room, punctuated by their ragged breathing.
Andre's face was completely open above her, vulnerable in a way that made fresh tears spring to her eyes. Every emotion was written there for her to read. Love so deep it had no bottom. Awe that she was his. Gratitude that they'd survived to have this moment. Need that matched her own.
Joy pulled him down for a kiss, pouring everything she felt into the connection of their mouths. Her tongue stroked against his as his cock stroked inside her, dual pleasures that made her inner muscles flutter. She was changing on some fundamental level, her very atoms rearranging themselves around this moment. Around him.
He maintained his steady rhythm as their gazes locked. His cock hit deep with each thrust, grinding against her in a way that sent lightning through her nerves. But it was the love pouring between them that threatened to undo her completely. Joy felt herself cracking open, every defense stripped away until she was nothing but raw need and desperate love.
"I'm going to claim you now," Joy said softly when they broke for air, her hands framing his face. The words felt sacred on her tongue, weighted with forever.
"Yes." The word came out reverent, broken. "Please. I'm yours. Always yours."
"And I’m yours," she said, pulling him down for another kiss. Their mouths met desperately as her teeth lengthened, canines sharp with purpose. She could taste his matching need, feel his cock throbbing inside her as they raced toward their peak together.
They struck simultaneously, teeth sinking into the junction of neck and shoulder. The claiming bite sent lightning through her veins, pleasure and pain and something beyond both. Her orgasm crashed over her in waves, her pussy clenching rhythmically around his cock as he spilled inside her. She felt his release as her own, their pleasure doubling and redoubling in an endless feedback loop.
The room disappeared.
They floated in star-filled darkness, suspended in a vast expanse that stretched beyond comprehension. But there was no fear here. No cold emptiness of space. This was warmth despite the darkness, peace despite the infinite. Joy felt her consciousness expand, no longer confined to the boundaries of her body. She was herself but more. Andre but more. The two of them but somehow still distinct.
Stars wheeled around them in ancient patterns. Not the harsh white of distant suns but softer lights that pulsed with living energy. Each star held a memory, a moment, a truth. She reached out and touched one.
The light exploded through her. Andre at eight years old, flour dusting his nose as his grandmother taught him to braid bread. His small hands working the dough with intense concentration. The warmth of the kitchen. The love in her weathered face. The seed of nurturing that would grow into the man who baked for those he cared about.
