25. Cyreus #2
I understand her fear. It mirrors my own when I think of her navigating these winter seas in her boat, working in freezing conditions, pushing herself beyond reasonable limits to complete our home.
"Three weeks," I promise. "Four at most. Then I return, the researchers depart for warmer waters, and we focus entirely on our future."
She nods, though uncertainty lingers in her expression. "I should get back to the boathouse. Fergus is waiting, and we need to finalize the plans for the circulation system before tomorrow."
"Of course." I begin to withdraw, but she tightens her grip on my hand.
"Wait. Since you're leaving tomorrow..." She glances toward the boathouse, then back to me. "The workers are gone. Fergus won't be back for another hour. We have some time."
"Time for what?"
Instead of answering, she begins removing her gloves, then her heavy coat. The temperature can't be more than a few degrees above freezing, yet she continues stripping away layers with determined efficiency .
"Meri, what are you—"
"If you're leaving for a month, I'm not letting you go without a proper goodbye." Her sweater joins the pile on the dock, followed by her thermal shirt. "And I'm not waiting until spring to touch you again."
"The water temperature is barely above freezing. You can't—"
"I've been preparing for this." She pulls a bundle from her remaining bag—a modern dry suit of advanced design. "Special order. Rated for arctic diving. Completely waterproof with thermal underlayers."
I watch in amazement as she dons the suit with practiced movements, sealing closures and checking connections with professional precision. Within minutes, she's transformed from a bundled dock worker to a sleek, insulated diver ready to enter waters that would kill most humans within minutes.
"You've been planning this," I observe, impressed and concerned in equal measure.
"For weeks." She secures the final seal at her neck, then reaches for a pair of insulated gloves. "I told you, Cyreus. I'm done letting circumstances dictate when and how we can be together."
"The water will still be dangerously cold for you, even with protection."
"Then we'll have to generate some heat, won't we?" The smile she gives me carries such wicked promise that I feel temperature fluctuations rippling through my form. "Besides, the suit's good for forty-five minutes in these conditions. That should be enough time for a proper goodbye. "
She slips into the water beside me with barely a splash, the advanced suit allowing her to move with nearly the same freedom she'd have in warmer conditions. The moment she's fully immersed, I wrap tentacles around her, providing additional insulation against the cold.
"Better?" I ask, monitoring her for signs of distress.
"Much." She reaches for me, the insulated gloves a poor substitute for skin contact but better than nothing. "I've missed you so much."
"And I you." I draw her closer, into the protective circle of my appendages where I maintain a pocket of warmer water around her. "This month has been difficult."
"For both of us."
I brush my lips against hers, testing her response to the cold. She leans into the contact immediately, her mouth warm against mine despite the winter water surrounding us. The kiss deepens, weeks of separation fueling a hunger that surpasses physical discomfort.
"The suit works," I observe when we finally part, relieved that she shows no signs of temperature distress.
"Told you." She presses herself against me, as close as the insulating layers allow. "Now stop worrying and make the most of our time."
I need no further encouragement. My tentacles surround her, creating a cocoon of warmer water while exploring every curve and contour of her insulated form.
The dry suit prevents direct skin contact, but I can still trace her familiar shape, still hold her with the perfect pressure that makes her relax into my embrace.
"I wish I could feel your skin," she murmurs, frustrated by the necessary barrier.
"We'll have to be creative." I guide her toward a more sheltered area of the cove, where an overhanging rock formation provides additional protection from the biting wind. "The suit covers everything?"
"Everything but my face." She gestures to the hood and mask that leaves only her features exposed. "And I'm not taking those off in these temperatures."
"Understandable." I consider our options, then smile as a solution presents itself. "Then we focus on what remains accessible."
I lift her slightly in the water, bringing her face level with mine. My hands frame her face with deliberate gentleness. I trace the contours of her cheekbones, her jawline, the sensitive skin beneath her ears that always makes her body respond.
"Your touch," she breathes, eyes closing in pleasure. "God, I've missed your touch."
"And I've missed your responses." I brush my thumbs across her lips, memorizing their texture anew.
She gasps, head falling back to give me better access. "More. Please."
I comply immediately, exploring the limited expanse of exposed skin with focused attention.
My lips trace patterns along her jawline, beneath her ear, down the short length of neck left accessible by the suit's high collar.
Each point of contact is deliberate, designed to maximize sensation in the restricted area available to us.
My tentacles maintain their protective embrace, some generating gentle currents of warmer water around us, others providing support that allows her to relax completely into the experience.
I monitor her constantly—body temperature, breathing rate, subtle shifts in muscle tension that might indicate discomfort.
But there is no discomfort, only escalating desire.
Her breathing deepens, her hands gripping my shoulders as I continue my careful exploration of every exposed centimeter of skin.
When I find a particularly sensitive spot beneath her ear, she moans softly, the sound traveling through water and bone to resonate in my core.
"I need..." she begins, frustration evident in her voice as she realizes the limitations our current situation imposes.
"I know." I press my forehead against hers, sharing breath in the small space between us. "Let me try something."
I shift one tentacle between her legs, pulsing against her pussy. Even through the insulated suit, I can sense her immediate reaction—her pupils expand, her breathing catches, her fingers suddenly clutch at my shoulders.
"Oh," she gasps, understanding flowing between us without words. "That's... perfect."
"Just the beginning," I murmur, increasing the intensity, finding the exact cadence that matches her racing heartbeat. " Let everything else fade away—just you and me, here in this moment."
Her eyes lock with mine, darkening with desire as the sensations build.
I continue exploring her exposed skin with my mouth, tasting the salt of her while my tentacle maintains its relentless attention below.
The combination soon has her trembling against me, her body straining toward something just beyond reach.
"Cyreus," she whispers..
I respond by adding a second tentacle, positioning it to create a counterpoint to the first. They work in tandem, surrounding her most sensitive area with alternating pressures and patterns that I know will drive her beyond control.
Her reaction is instant and primal—her spine curves, her throat releases a sound I've never heard from her before, her fingernails bite into my skin through her gloves.
"That's it," I encourage, holding her securely as she begins to unravel. "Let go for me. I won't let you fall."
Her release comes like a storm surge, powerful waves of pleasure pulsing through her that I can feel reverberating through the water around us. I cradle her through each crest, maintaining the perfect pressure until the final tremors subside and she collapses boneless against me.
She breathes out a soft laugh as she presses her forehead to mine. "You never cease to amaze me. "
"A century of studying fluid dynamics has its advantages," I tease, kissing her lightly. "Though I find I prefer applying that knowledge to you rather than ocean currents."
"Adaptation is my specialty." I brush my lips against hers once more. "Though I look forward to less restrictive conditions when I return."
"As do I." She glances at a display on her wrist. "We have about fifteen more minutes before the suit's safety margin."
"Fifteen minutes to memorize everything about you before three weeks apart." I tighten my hold slightly. "Not nearly enough time."
"It will have to do." She traces the contours of my face with gloved fingers. "Besides, you'll be back before the houseboat is ready for launch. We'll have our home, Cyreus. Our own space where neither of us has to compromise."
"A worthy goal to focus on during my journey." I study her features in the fading light, committing every detail to memory. "I'll miss you."
"I'll miss you too." She kisses me again, lingering despite the cold. "Be safe. Be careful. Come back to me."
"Always."
With a final touch, she rises and begins gathering her discarded clothing. I watch her for a moment longer, then slip beneath the surface, already calculating optimal routes for my journey south and mentally preparing for the complex deception ahead.
The researchers must be drawn away from these waters, away from our future home, away from Meri. Whatever the risk to myself, the greater risk lies in allowing their investigation to continue unchallenged. They seek a mystery, an unexplained phenomenon worthy of scientific pursuit.
I will give them exactly that—just far from here, far from her, far from everything we're building together.
As I dive deeper, the winter water grows darker around me. But for the first time in decades, that darkness carries promise rather than isolation. Because now, no matter how far I travel, I have something I never had before.
A reason to return. A place to belong. Someone waiting.