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“I want to share my tent with you,” I went on because I found I could not stop now. “Or even a cave, if that is what you want. I would live in a putrid pool of water with you if only you would have me. But it has to be with you, Fiona.”
This was the heart of it. This was the hard and urgent truth. The inescapable centre of my life. “I have to be with you.”
Her eyes, so huge a moment ago, scrunched shut, like she could no longer bear to look up at me. But she did not pull away, did not pull off from my cock. If anything, her grip only got stronger, the suction of her slippery, silken mouth tighter, until there was nothing I could do, no more words that I could speak into the air, nothing left except skull-smashing, spine-rending pleasure ripping out of me with the force of a fighting man. My entire body contracted, as if with excruciating pain, but it was not pain. It was a sort of ecstatic reverence. I watched myself come into Fiona’s pink human mouth and I revered her.
I did not know what she would do next, but she remained in place far longer than I expected. She allowed me to spew what felt like endlessly into her. I moaned, hips spasming, when I both felt and saw the contraction of her throat as she swallowed. Swallowed my seed. On the face of it, such a thing sounded disgusting. But actually experiencing it was so erotic it made my claws curl and my heart feel swollen and heavy as it beat.
Eventually, though, she had to release me. Probably a good idea. It appeared as though, as long as her mouth was on me, then I would not stop coming. And now there seemed some slim but growing possibility that I actually might drown her. My organ throbbed, my cock spears shuddering as another weak spray of seed erupted when she pulled her mouth away. Her mouth and her chin and her hand glistened.
I should have been basking in the enormously powerful afterglow of such an encounter, but I could tell as Fiona straightened up that something was wrong. For such an expressive human, her face was curiously solemn. She avoided my gaze as she slid off the bed and hurried over to the little nook in her cave. The sound of water splashed into the room, an unwelcome cacophony, and it was as if someone had dumped that insufferable water directly down my spine. The thing Fiona had said before came suddenly back to me, an apt phrase. The moment is ruined.
She had smiled when she had said it then. But she was not smiling now as she came back out into the main cave.
Something was definitely wrong, and even in that wrongness she was heart-killingly beautiful. I stared, unable to speak as she moved naked through the room, all smooth skin and ink, artistry and pain.
And then the pain was mine, catching beneath my lungs like a lodged spear, when she quickly dressed herself. She came back to me then, but she did not touch me. Instead she sat on the edge of the bed and looked down at her still-bare feet.
“Dalk,” she said quietly. “What you said just now... When you said you wanted to mate me. Does that mean you want to have sex with me? Or does that mean you want me as your mate mate? Like, in a permanent way?”
“It meant both,” I told her, surprised she had not understood my meaning. But she was not of this world. Her customs were different. “When I said I wanted to share my tent with you, I meant as my mate. And I meant it forever.”
Though it was truth, apparently that was not the right answer, because she stiffened, her hands drawing into tiny fists on her thighs.
“This makes you unhappy,” I observed out loud slowly, internally berating myself for making some unseen mistake with her. I had not told her anything but what was in my heart.
But she did not seem to want that.
“No, it’s not that. In fact, that’s just the thing,” she said, finally turning her face towards me. “It made me extremely fucking happy when you said it. And then I got scared.”
“Scared of what?” I asked, cupping that astonishing face in my hands, unable to keep myself from touching her any longer.
“I’m scared,” she whispered, “of what will happen if we’re not meant to be mates.”
“We are.” I said it firmly and decisively, leaving no room for argument.
But this was Fiona. And she always found room to argue.
She yanked herself out of my grip and stood, pacing the floor of the cave while I watched her.
“I don’t know what I was thinking,” she said, and it sounded more like she said it to herself than to me. “Well, no, I do know what I was thinking. I was thinking that I like you so much, care about you, maybe even... But what the hell am I gonna do if you get bonded to someone else?”
That question was no doubt aimed at me. She ceased her pacing to face me.
“When you talked about mates and sharing tents and forever,” she said, her eyes looking wet-bright again. “It sounded so good, Dalk. But what if that isn’t what’s actually going to happen? What if you get bonded to somebody else?”
“I won’t,” I said, and that too felt like truth, because any other possibility felt so wholly wrong as to never even come close to existing.
The only future that existed for me was her.
“You don’t know that!”
I got off the bed. It seemed that the naked portion of this evening had sadly ended, and now we were entering into some new terrifying round of events. So I grasped my loincloth and retied it, trying to formulate what I wanted to say, how I would convince her as I did so.
But such a thing proved impossible. Because Fiona’s next words knocked all arguments and sounds and breath right out of me.
“Maybe we shouldn’t... Shouldn’t keep doing this...”
I froze in place, turned away from her, staring into the fire but not seeing it. Turmoil scraped my insides raw and ragged. I could not soothe the feeling and I could not fight it, so I forced my body into motion, spinning back around to pin her with my sight stars.
