I make a noise of discomfort and lean further into him, circling my arms around his waist. He’s warm and it’s nice, and for now. The heat between my legs is banking just slightly at his proximity, and I suddenly have the urge to talk to him instead of just touch him.
“Why is it you were so annoying?” I ask again. I can’t help but stroke the strange patchwork feel of his back. It’s a reflex, almost a sensory overload considering the current state of my body, and soothing all the same.
“Because I wanted you to admit that you liked me,” he says simply. “I wanted you —still want you— to admit that you were mine.”
He sighs, and my body moves with the deep motion of his chest. I tighten my leg slightly, sliding closer, chasing his warmth when I feel something vibrate and move against me.
“What if I’m not sure I want to be anybody’s?” I ask him. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this open with anyone in my life.”
“Honesty suits you,” he says. “And I don’t want you to be just anybody’s either. I want you to be mine, but more importantly, I want to be yours.”
I stare up at him. There’s no playfulness, no insincere, chaotic energy he normally has. His eyes are calm, his body anything but tense beneath my fingers, his hands gingerly wrapped around my waist, almost as if he’s afraid to really touch me.
“It’s strange,” I say, moving my hips just a little bit. His eyes flutter shut.
“What’s strange?” he asks, his voice a harsh rasp.
“How all you have been talking about this whole time is how good you are in bed, and now that I’m in your arms you seem like you’re afraid to even touch me.”
“I am afraid to touch you.”
I glance up at him again, surprised by the admission, even though it feels right. “Why? This is what you said you wanted.”
“This isn’t what I wanted,” he says gently.
“That hurts my feelings,” I say. “What do you mean? This is all you’ve been?—”
“I want more than your body, Lily.”
I stare at him, my lips trembling slightly, need coming back full force at the words, the way he’s looking at me, at the sound of his voice. The feel of his fingers so lightly touching my hips.
“What if that’s all I’m ready to give?” I ask him.
“I don’t want it if that’s all you want to give me,” he says, shaking his head.
I growl in frustration, rear back, and smack his shoulder with the flat of my hand. He doesn’t even wince, doesn’t even flinch. He just blinks up at me and I stand up.
Well, not really up, considering even though I’m standing, we’re nearly the same height while he’s sitting.
The ache between my legs grows stronger, and I take a step back, annoyed. “I don’t know what you want from me.”
“I did not know that I wanted anything from you,” he says, voice low and slow and serious. He blinks. “Until you said my name. Until you selected me and I marked you with my heat poison. Now, I will not settle for your body. Don’t get me wrong, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
“You’re saying that you want me in heat and pain for the rest of this experience?”
“I am saying that I refuse to take advantage of what the heat has done to your body, because I think that you would regret it.”
“I would regret it.” Of course I would. I don’t want forever with anyone. I don’t even know Zan. I don’t even know his species, his culture, anything.
I want his body, though.
He stares at me, eyebrows lifted, a faintly amused expression on his face.
I grunt in frustration and slam my arms against my body before crossing them, confused about what to even do with myself.
He sighs. “I can try to take the edge off, if that’s what you really want.”
“I don’t know what I want.” It’s whiney and annoying, even to my own ears.
