So guys this is the second last chapter (I'm actually a little sad about it TBH). I hope that the sex scene was everything that you'd been waiting for. This is the companion piece to it (from Lydia's POV) so hopefully you like it.

I'm blowing through these so fast! I'm nearly done, and I wanted to make sure you all get the ending as soon as possible. However, I have to take a break as I have one more (tiny, so don't worry too much) exam. I'll be done by Thursday and then I'm a third of the way through my degree! Hooray *sets of fireworks*!

This one's for Daniyell37. Cute as name, and you were really sweet. Much love your way :) x

XV

Afterglow

Lydia drifted awake. She couldn't remember becoming aware, but in her half sleepy state she felt warm and safe. Muted light played on her eyelids, turning them red and making her see swirling patterns. Lydia was the kind of person who could doze for hours on end, slipping in and out of dreams. The only problem was that her pillow was moving up and down rhythmically. Like breathing. It was then that the memories of last night came floating back to her. Lydia didn't open her eyes, but she could feel her mouth forming a smile at the thoughts going through her head. Stiles had been better than she had hoped. Like any virgin, it took time to adjust to the motions and practices that an experienced lover had down, but what Stiles didn't know he had made up for with instinct... and research. And- Lydia thought with a deep sense of satisfaction- she had come four times. Lydia opened her eyes to the dim room, her eyelashes brushing against the chest she was lying on. Stiles was sleeping peacefully, one arm curled around her and the other resting on his stomach.

Lydia knew that she didn't feel as strongly about Stiles has he did about her. Stiles had spent years pining over her and she had only really been attracted to him for just over a year. She had loved him for less than that. But, still- there was something about him that made Lydia smile, even when all she wanted to do was yell at him. She cared about him deeply. And- after everything the two of them had been through- she was more than willing to give him a chance. There was no one more deserving of an opportunity than Stiles Stilinski. He had more than proved it to her last night.

Thinking back over the events of the last 12 hours or so, Lydia stifled a giggle but smiled widely into Stiles' pale chest. Jackson- while not at all a prude- had refused point blank to go down on her. Stiles had done it twice of his own accord. And, boy, had she liked it. He'd obviously done his research well, because all of his techniques- while just being learned- were effective. Little kitten licks that drifted lightly over her clit; long, sweeping strokes that curled her toes; figure eights that hit every spot she had. Even sucking on her inner labia was a turn on. Even thinking about it drew her attention back to the delicious ache in her lower extremities. The deep, strong ache of being fucked multiple times- all stretched muscle and jellied knees.

Their night last night, though, could not really be called fucking. Stiles had made nothing but love to her, paying attention to every expanse of skin, every sensitive curve. Lydia raised her eyes to look at his sleeping face, his eyelashes resting in dark crescents on his cheeks. Her Stiles. She was shocked at how the thought came to mind, but once she had time to process it, she knew that she was right. He was hers. And he had definitely earned the right to call her his. Lydia snuggled into his chest again and closed her eyes. They had hours to sleep yet, and she still needed time to recuperate from last night.

It wasn't the light that woke her again, but the hand running gently up and down between her shoulder blades.

"Can I tell you something first?" Lydia asked Stiles, sliding her line of sight down to his chest where her fingers were slowly caressing his warm skin.

"Of course," Stiles said, running his hands through her hair. Lydia darted her gaze up to his and then resumed tracing his chest.

"I love you too. And I'm sorry I didn't tell you last night, but I was scared. I'm still scared, if I'm being honest with both of us. But I trust you, Stiles, so you need to know how I feel," Lydia felt his long finger under her chin and she met his eyes once more. A blazing fire burned back at her from his walnut coloured irises so strongly that Lydia thought that if she wasn't already so wet for him again she might catch alight. Stiles pressed his lips to hers forcefully, as if he was trying to draw the her love from him out of her body and into his so he could prove it was real.

After a long, slow session of loving and a quickie against the tiled wall of Stiles' shower, Lydia was dressed again, and helping Stiles change his sheets.

"I mean, I would happily sleep on them for the rest of my life just to re-live last night, but- as much as I hate to even consider this- Dad knows what sex smells like, and after this morning's repeat, there is no way in hell he isn't going to know we slept together," Stiles explained and he shucked the cases from his pillows.

"It's okay, Stiles. I get it. We'll just tell him I came over for breakfast," Lydia soothed. She was always so mellow after sex. It was the one thing that left her completely relaxed and ready for anything. Stiles look up from where he was putting a fresh pillowcase on a pillow, and looked at her. The shades over his windows were still down, and Stiles was haloed in golden light. He dropped the pillow and stepped towards her, bringing a hand up and cupping her face.

"You look so thoroughly loved that I just want to have you all over again," Stiles told her, lightly trailing his thumb over her lower lip. Lydia smiled up at him, and leaned into his hand. "I mean it, Lyds. Every day I've wanted to have you, and now that I have I want it even more."

"I know. And I love you Stiles Stilinski," Lydia murmured back, closing her eyes and stepping into his arms. They stood like that for a few minutes, and then completed their task and heading downstairs for breakfast. The clock read 9:47 as Stiles pulled spinach and eggs out of the fridge and set to work on frying them up into omelettes. Lydia handled the toast, coffee and orange juice. When they sat down to eat, among steaming plates of food and tall glasses of fresh orange juice, Lydia felt a warmth radiating from her that she hadn't shown since before she'd started High School. She was laughing at Stiles and wiping tomato ketchup from his chin when the Sheriff walked through the door.

"Well, now. Good morning Lydia. This is the second Friday morning in a row that I've found you in my kitchen," he said, giving a stern look to the pair.

"Morning Sheriff. I know. I rather think it might be a common occurrence from now on. Though, rest assured I only got here about an hour ago. Stiles and I decided to have breakfast together when he dropped me off last night," Lydia lied smoothly.

"Well, that's good to hear," Sheriff Stilinski said, looking relieved.

"Was it a busy night, Dad?" stiles asked his father, trying to distract him from the precarious topic of conversation.

"Not too bad. A break in downtown and a few drunk kids at that bar on Southport street. Nothing we couldn't handle. I'm going to go and have a shower. If you're so inclined, I'd love an omelette when I get back."

"No problem," Stiles replied, standing up. Stiles' father gave them a tired smile, and then headed out of the room and upstairs.

"I know it should scare me, but I love the fact that you lie so well. You are going to be an invaluable weapon against my tyrannical father," Stiles whispered conspiratorially.

"He's not so bad. Besides, you should be scared. If this all ends badly, I'm going to be able to give him all the ammunition he needs to make an example of you," Lydia replied, her eyes flashing mockingly. Stiles rolled his eyes.

"Only you would think to do something that completely diabolical. Have I told you I love you?" Stiles said, leaning down to give her a chaste kiss.

"Only several hundred times. But I'll never get tired of hearing it," Lydia confessed, kissing him back sweetly. "Now, I believe we have an omelette to make."

"You get the eggs, I'll rinse the pan."