After spending time in the Novai mother ship, returning to our own was a bit like stepping back into the archaic age. Our command center, while sleek and polished instead of rugged and disorganized, felt disappointingly unequipped. The ship itself had seemed more than spacious enough when we left, but now its corridors and rooms were narrow and confining. It was what I was comfortable with, though, so I was not displeased to board again and watch the plate-shaped Novain vessel fade into the galactic abyss.

“I can’t believe it’s over,” Phoebe said softly.

We were standing against the window while Venan directed the Navigations Officer and the rest of the crew milled about. I glanced from the window to her.

“What is over?”

“The hospital. Our task.” She pressed her fingertip against the glass as if trying to touch one of the billions of stars. “There’s nothing we can do except make sure the Novai don’t kill anyone until they either get better or end up dying themselves. Just like that, we’re back to where we were before all of this.”

I studied her carefully and asked, “Does this upset you?”

She shifted a little uncomfortably and shrugged. Her eyes were slightly downcast, and her chin was puckered as if she was overcome with emotion. “Kind of, yeah,” she answered. I heard sadness in her voice. “I hate not being able to help people who need help. I hate watching people struggle for their lives. And…” She paused and glanced up at me uncertainly through her lashes. “…I didn’t have you before all this.”

“You are worried we will go our separate ways?” I questioned.

“Yeah,” she said in a small voice. “I guess I am.”

I looked at her for a moment, stunned to hear this was her great fear and even more stunned she could think I would want that. Then, I took her hand. “Come with me,” I commanded.

Pulling her away from the window, I wove through the command center and into the corridor. “Where are we going?” she asked. I did not answer. I simply led her down the hallways until we reached the portion of the ship dedicated to bunks. None were in use, so I just chose the first door and guided her inside, closing the door behind us. I turned around to face her. She was watching me uncertainly.

“What are we doing here?” she wondered aloud.

I crossed the space between us until we were mere inches apart. “I need privacy for this,” I murmured.

She stood very still, poised for whatever was to happen next. I did not know if she was worried I was severing our relationship or not, but it was irrelevant. She would not wonder in a moment.

I leaned down and gently pressed my lips to hers, testing her reaction. She responded at once, not just with her lips but her whole body. Her chest flattened against me, her arms coiled around my neck, and her tongue plunged between my teeth. I suckled, relishing her flavor. Immediately, a deep ache rocketed through me from the deepest pit of my belly to my head. There was no denying what I was feeling anymore, no justifying it away or pretending it did not exist. I was not the impenetrable, eternal bachelor I had always imagined myself. Somehow, over the months, Phoebe had become my everything.

“I am going nowhere,” I breathed against her mouth. “I love you.”

She curled her fingers into the roots of my hair, steeled by my proclamation, and gazed up at me without breathing. I could feel her heart throbbing through her chest into mine. “I love you too,” she murmured.

In that second, my world changed.

I swept her up into my arms in a single swoop and buried myself in her. We were not just kissing now; her soul was spilling out of her throat through my lips, and I drank it in until I was drowning from the inside out. She clawed at my cheeks, desperate for more but limited by physical restrictions. I crossed the room to a bunk and dropped onto it, crouching my body over hers.

Her shirt was off in an instant, her bra following immediately after. I flicked my tongue over one of her round, pointed nipples as I fiddled with the clasp on her pants, and then I slid those off too. I was feverish with need, utterly starving, but I sat back on my heels and admired the sight of her nude, vulnerable body for a moment. She was perfect: luscious curves blended into sensual smoothness, shining green eyes peered up at me, an array of pale blonde hair framed a round, heated face. Beauty was displayed before me, and I was willing to leave myself wanting if it meant I could stare at her forever.

“I want to see you, too,” she whispered shyly. Her eyes sloped downward to my hips.

Ordinarily, I would have been pleased to forego my own physical pleasure to send her into the feral screams she made when I suffocated myself between her thighs, but she spoke so innocently, so sweetly, I was unable to deny her. I shuffled out of my own pants, kicking my boots to the side, and stood in front of her for her observance.

For a second, she did not speak. Her eyes grew as round as her cheeks, and her lips parted in surprise. Then, she said softly, “You are—I didn’t expect—whoa.”

I glanced down at myself. I was already erect for her, throbbing with passion and yearning to experience her in a way I had yet to do.

“You’re going to tear me in two,” she breathed.

I crawled back onto the bed again, positioning myself between her legs. “If you are frightened, we will not do anything,” I told her. Then, I lowered my mouth to the sweet, dripping folds I had consumed as frequently as food in the recent days and began trilling my tongue over her sensitive bead. She responded at once, back arching and nipples hardening. Hearing her delight had become my favorite sound, and it sent a ripple of hot pleasure through me. I slithered my tongue up and down, then circled in the manner I knew drove her wild. Her hand flew down to clutch my scalp, and her hips lifted.

“I’m not frightened,” she gasped through a moan. “I want you.”

Crooking a brow to silently ask her if she was certain, I secured my lips around the button and suckled just as I loved to do on her nipples and tongue. Her moan broadened to a low, pulsing wail.

“Please!” she begged.

I sat up on my knees, took my girth in my hand, and led the tip to her soaking petals. She raised her hips further to greet me. Just as I was about to ask if she was absolutely sure, she jerked her body forward, and I careened inside her like a rocket.

My senses shattered. I had never felt anything so wonderful in my life, warm and soft and tight and slick, but the feeling that filled me was far more powerful than the sensations I experienced. Love in its most sweltering, heady, devouring form took me over, stripping me of every ounce of emotional control I possessed and saturating me in unconditional devotion. And staring up at me through those riveting green orbs was a deep reverence of which I never could have imagined myself worthy.

I thrust, and she groaned. I thrust again, and her back lifted another few inches. Bending forward, I took one of her presented nipples into my mouth and rolled the tip of my tongue around the velvety, thin skin just as I plummeted forward a third time. The moan that cascaded from her lilted into a squeal of overstimulation, but I had only just begun. I rocked my hips and caressed her most sensitive spot with my length, massaging her nipple with my lips, and skimmed a hand between us to flutter a fingertip over the bead I had just been lapping. Her nails stabbed into my flesh.

“My god, Zuran!” she panted. Her syllables faded in and out as she spoke, so absent was her breath, and I could feel her body starting to react solely of its own accord. She was my instrument to play, and I would play until she heard the marching of the gods.

Again and again, I barreled into her. Each pump was faster than the last, deeper than the last, until there was no longer rhythm and we were frenzied. My finger scrawled across her hooded bump, and my tongue skittered over her breast. She gasped for breath and sang a melody of moans into my ears, and I groaned against her nipple. I was close, so close…

Then, she grabbed the back of my neck so hard I was sure the flesh would tear away, and her moans turned to shrieks I had never heard from her mouth before. She bucked beneath me, her body lifting and dropping and lifting and dropping. Her soaking walls clenched around me, and I exploded with her in climax. A tsunami of euphoric pleasure crashed into me. Every second was rife with popping sparks, nerves detonating, and muscles spasming.

When we slowed, I lowered my face into her neck and whispered against her hot, sweat-slickened skin, “I love you.”