Martinez’s fingers crawled underneath Lysa’s shirt, moving up along her flank toward her luscious breasts. As his hand softly massaged her tender tits, Lysa moaned greedily, having suffered for months without Martinez’s caring physical attention.

  At the same time, their lips crashed together, Lysa's free hand digging into his hair, pulling him in deep, letting her taste his succulent spit and blood. She shuddered as her nails clawed at his scalp.

  Heat swelled between their bodies, neither wanting anything more than the other's attention and embrace. After months of yearning, the smoldering desire that little massage Martinez had given Lysa a few minutes earlier stoked the flames.

  A raging inferno burned like a wildfire in old growth forests. Each caress and stroke of the hand added more fuel to that fire.

  They paused and parted by millimeters, allowing the other to breathe and time to slip off the other's shirt. Their clothes flying off their bodies, like birds fleeing danger.

  Lysa’s fingers danced along Martinez’s chest, tracing the extensive scarring from his time at war. She always appreciated them, finding them marks of honor and the etchings of his storied history.

  She was aware that many of the women in his past did not like laying eyes upon them, finding them garish, disgusting, and unattractive. But those women needed to find better taste.

  They had no idea what they were missing out on.

  Martinez was attentive and everything she could ever want from a man. He was strong, well-meaning, and giving.

  She smiled softly as he pulled off her shirt and started to undo her bra. As he did so, she leaned in close, resting her head against his, looking down at his collarbone.

  It was protruding more than when she had first met him. A pang of guilt shot through her. Martinez was losing weight—not enough for most to notice, but she had memorized his body like it was God's gospel.

  She could see the changes.

  He had lost a few kilos here and had sweated off some muscle definition there. She could not help but feel responsible. Neither had planned on her getting pregnant, and neither thought it possible.

  Since the news broke, she knew he had been stressed beyond belief. If even only for the night, Lysa would do all she could to allow her love to relax. He had been giving her so much.

  He orchestrated her friends' staying over, breaking bread with them; he also took charge of planning her medical checkups. Without him, Lysa would’ve drowned in the churning seas of uncertainty.

  Slowly but surely, they doffed each other's clothes, leaving Lysa as naked as the day she was born and Martinez likewise.

  His stiff cock pressed against her thigh. She moved her second leg over it, letting her give him a meticulous thigh job. She slowly started to move her thighs, rubbing his cock up and down between their legs. At the same time, his hand explored all she was, tenderly appreciating all she was.

  His digits crawled across her flesh, cherishing the extra kilos she had gained in her pregnancy. He explored her thighs, waist, and pregnant belly, taking extra time to soak in her swollen lump.

  He looked at it like it was a gem given unto him by god–the same way he looked at her all the other times.

  Lysa breathed a shuddering moan as Martinez’s fingers, at long last, caressed her yearning bud; her eagerness overflowed from her, slicking out and soaking the cushions after dribbling down her rump.

  Lysa began to gyrate against his fingers without thinking about it, increasing the friction she felt from his calloused hands. With each rotation, Lysa tried to urge him inside by lifting her hips and pressing forward, but Martinez knew her tendencies all too well--and knew exactly how to draw out her joy.

  He changed his motions, keeping her guessing and forcing her to hunt his finger rustling between her folds like a predator seeking prey.

  Martinez dipped his head and kissed along her neck, whispering words of love and appreciation, complimenting all that she was and had become—something that, until she met Martinez, Lysa had always imagined would be out of her reach.

  “By the stars, you are amazing,” Lysa purred, cupping the side of his cheek while staring into his dark brown eyes. The small flecks of gold shimmered in the light of their home.

  While the last of his clothes and furniture had yet to be moved into Lysa's home, he had stayed here every day for the last month and had all of his information changed, so this was his home of record.

  Next week, Ezol and his wife would help them move the last of Martinez's things, making it all one hundred percent official.

  “I could say the same thing about you, my Ruh’ah,” Martinez replied, equally losing himself in her four ruby-red gems. The light swirling of them, drawing his mind in like a vortex.

  Lysa was about to call him sweet and mention how glad she was that he still thought she was beautiful, but just as she opened her mouth to speak, her words warped into a lustful yowl as Martinez took advantage of her momentary distraction to bury a finger to the hilt in her warm folds.

  Not giving his love a moment to recover, Martinez pressed his attack like he had ambushed her. He lashed out with all the years of dexterity that applying uncountable sutures gave him to keep her on the back foot.

  His fingers did not just dance inside her while his thumb worked her clit like it owed him money; no, that would be far too tame for this beast of a woman. It was like his fingers were two living beings crawling inside, competing to see which one could make her cum first.

  Lysa's thighs clenched tightly around Martinez’s aching cock, as he meticulously moved his hips in time with her gyrations. Pre-cum leaked out between her supple pale thighs, the sharp aroma of his excitement mixing with the heady scent of their breaths and building a sweat.

  “Bite me, I’m close,” Lysa pleaded, arching her back to bring her breasts closer to him.

  Martinez hungrily took in the sight of her pleading. Lysa’s breasts had swollen with her weight gain, and had only grown more sensitive from neglect. Her purplish-blue nipples were hard enough to cut diamonds.

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  Her breath hitched as Martinez clasped a nipple between his lips, his slick tongue pressing forward and running circles around the sensitive nub. She pulled his head tighter to her chest as he suckled, sending frantic jolts of pleasure through her core as his mouth brought her to higher and higher levels of bliss.

  Her tight, wet pussy flexed around his fingers. Each rolling wave felt like a viper trying to choke the life from his digits as she neared her inevitable encroaching climax.

  Martinez groaned as Lysa’s powerful body clenched. Her nails dug into his scalp, as her muscular thighs rolled, trying to milk his cock.

  Sucking in a breath, Martinez doubled his efforts; he lightly bit her nipple, giving his Ruh'ah exactly what she asked for.

  Any semblance of her teetering on the edge flew the coop at that exact moment. Her moans grew to a near ear-splitting level, rivaling Martinez's tinnitus in volume as the erotic beast he loved was unleashed.

  With one final push, his fingers were sucked deep, as every fiber of her steel cable-like muscles wrenched. She roared his name like a lioness while clutching at him like a vice.

  Lysa’s panting breaths rolled across his skin while her pussy suckled on his fingers like candy. Her lower lips poured her arousal onto his palm and her thighs.

  He pressed closer, growling in her ear as she soaked his palm and clung to him.

  Lysa sucked in a breath after nearly a minute of wracking bliss. She settled back into orbit, and into her loves controlled, embrace. Her eyes fluttered open to his welcoming smile with her forehead against his.

  “By the stars, I hope you are ready for more,” she teased, opening her legs and feeling thick slings of pre-cum clinging to her thighs.

  “So long as we go slow,” Martinez replied, slipping her leg between his so they were entwined.

  They shifted so they were in completely equal positions, allowing both to have complete input into what was to come. Both wanted to just go at it but understood the other needed to ease into what was about to unfold.

  She clutched his flanks as Martinez shifted his position, pressing his cock against her entrance, her lower lips wrapping around his cock tip.

  Martinez lay beside her, propping himself up, refusing to put weight on her—they had to be safe during sex.

  Doctor Aruchi had made her desire for them to not have sex while she was pregnant known. But because of Martinez’s background and Lysa’s understanding of Aviex pregnancies, her advice had been tossed away after months of them not being able to just fuck.

  They respected her opinion, but did she realize what she was asking and to whom she was doing so? They were a young couple and could hardly keep their hands off one another.

  They both needed this. But would be smart and do all they could to not hurt Lysa. Certain positions and motions did not put undue stress on her body as they made love—something natural for both her and Martinez’s species.

  Lysa gripped the base of his cock, unafraid of what was about to happen. They both understood the potential dangers, but could not wait anymore.

  They would ease into it anyway.

  “Ready?” Lysa purred, shuddering in lust as his fingers tried to dig into her ass.

  “I will take that as a yes,” Lysa said.

  With his silent agreement Lysa shifted forward. Centimeter by centimeter, her moan grew louder as his thick cock filled her like a key sliding into its lock.

  Any issue of base need in him was forgotten as her pussy strangled his cock. Lysa let out a long groan, and before millimeters to his base, she yelped. A deep, aching pang shot through her, a biological warning to not press her luck.

  She lessened the depth and slowly slid back up and down his length. Her hands cupped Martinez's face, and she whispered into his ear, loving seeing his eyes lose focus from the sensations. “That’s it, relax my love,”

  Their heart rates coiled together as their breaths filled the air with heady steam. The sounds of her pussy squelching filled the air, drowning out the hustle and bustle of the city streets.

  It did not take long for Martinez to feel comfortable and take some of the control. He grabbed hold of one of her legs lifting it slightly, letting him angle into her G-spot with ease.

  Lysa tossed her head back against the armrest as she panted like a feral beast. With each stroke, all of her muscles stretched to fit him. Each flex felt like it was setting her body on fire. Each ember of need crawled through her, seeking to scorch every fiber of her being.

  Lysa’s mind swam in a lake of ecstasy as their slow, controlled dance felt more pleasurable than any time they rutted like beasts. He leaned down and softly kissed her, their tongues entwining, softly exploring the other's mouth as their hands drifted over their skin like winds drifting over sand.

  “Fu–He—Henry–I’m–I’m,” Lysa sputtered as she writhed as her orgasm began to erupt, spit and blood dripping form her lips.

  “Me, too,” Martinez groaned, moving back and gyrating his cock millimeters inside her entrance, despite her attempts to push him back into her depths.

  She noticed this and was about to wrap a leg around his waist and jam him back to her deepest reaches, but Martinez had already reached the end.

  His cock popped out of her pussy, and throbbed against her clit. Hot ropes of sticky cum erupted from him, shooting across her belly and breasts. The lewd liquid was barely visible against her palid flesh, but the hot slick dripping down her let Lysa feel each drop.

  Lysa ran her hand along her body, slipping the cum between her fingers, bringing it between her lips. She let out a long, lascivious moan around her fingers while sampling his salty, full-bodied flavor.

  Cum certainly had nothing on blood, but she would gladly have sucked it out of him like a straw—if only he had given her a chance to tonight.

  Lysa had put in a lot of effort and sacrificed plenty of fruit, learning to suck dick without her razor-sharp teeth filleting his member. She would have rather he sat up and shoved his cock down her throat before cumming, but she would not complain.

  Lysa got what she wanted---Martinez, mind, body, and soul.

  They shifted, so Lysa ended up as the little spoon, giving them ample time to bask in the afterglow of having sex for the first time in months.

  They assumed the position without even thinking; it had become second nature. Unless Martinez was coming out of the throes of a nightmare this was their default cuddle position.

  His lips caressed her shoulder, mordaining her while he held her hand over her stomach. Their heart rates slowed, coming down as the burning fires of passion cooled to a comforting warmth, something that was always present between the two.

  “Thank you,” Lysa smiled, moving their hands in small circles. “For being here for me.”

  Martinez grunted his agreement but did not truly verbalize it.

  Lysa yawned, feeling more safe and secure than she had in years. She shifted back a bit more, pressing her back to Martinez's tight abs as she laid her head across his bicep.

  She tried to stay awake, but it was impossible. Her eyes sank shut, like anchors dragging them beneath the waves. She succumbed to sleep and rested well, dreaming about their future and the happiness that awaited their soon-to-be family.

  Martinez was glad she fell asleep because Lysa muttered in her sleep and he did not want her to see how those words stabbed at him. He could tell she was dreaming of the future. She whispered about kids running to her, or urging them to go hug him.

  Martinez stifled a sniffle, wishing he could be as jubilant as Lysa was about the future and not be damned to live in this emotional limbo, always unsure of what was next. Even in this perfect moment, his heart couldn’t escape the storm brewing just beyond the horizon

  After he carried her to bed, he returned to the sofa alone. There in the darkness, he nearly silently sobbed. The moment of beautiful intimacy was a horrible reminder of how uncertain the future would be for them.

  The weight of it all was breaking him, driving him into depths he did not want to be in.

  Ever since he was a little brat in New Los Angeles, he dreamed of being a father, raising kids, and having a family. Now that it was here, he was in no way excited.

  The sword of Damocles hung over his head, waiting for Chloe’s word to bring it crashing down; he was powerless to change that reality. All he could do was wait, make it through his deal with the devil, and pray he made it out alive.

  Martinez was so broken down that he did something he had not done in years. He clasped his hands together, and just like his grandfather had taught him, he spoke again to God.

  "God, please help me---" Martinez began, struggling not to cry loud enough to wake Lysa.