by Amanda Milo
What I need. What I want…
I look into his eyes. His eyes that - though different from a human’s by a galaxy or so - are so patient as they gaze down on me.
“I want you to treat me like I’ve never been…” I trail off, not even wanting to think the word. “Like you’ve always wanted. I want you to touch me like you’ve always wanted to.”
He immediately moves to stand.
He’s so tall - and from my vantage on the floor, he looks even more impressive. But I’m not scared.
And then he offers me a hand up.
I take it, and effortlessly am lifted to my feet.
I’m face to chest with him.
And ohhhh what a chest. Even with scales. Dragon scales. It’s incredible. Every muscle is beautifully delineated. He is art.
I sense his energy ramping up, but the weight of his stare keeps my face lowered, for the first time ever I’m finding it easier to examine his body than to meet his eyes.
He drops my hand abruptly.
Now I look up. “What?”
“One click, please.”
He scoots around me - careful not to brush against me - and moves around the side of the bed until he can reach my body pillow. He also snags the spray bottle and goes to town on himself.
Early on I thought the pillows were washed with special fabric softener.
I mean, they smelled so good...
It's Zadeon.
He smells so good.
Specifically, the stuff he washes off of his face.
And to know that all this time he’s been doing this pillow ritual for me. He was clever enough to come up with a way to manage this compulsion, to take the edge off basically as alone as he can manage instead of forcing his attention on me - he's coping and it's adorable.
And it’s sad.
He shouldn’t have to.
I don’t want him to have to, not anymore. Not now that I know.
I scoot closer.
He freezes - his temple mid-drag along the surface of the pillowcase.
I’m not sure what to do with my hands. I think my fingers just went numb but I brave it out and slap my hands together behind my back. Yes. Definitely numb. "Here," I say. I wonder if numbness of the extremities is a sign of anxiety. And if I’m feeling this anxious can he smell it? "I'm here. Use me."
He's still for so long I expect him to ask some variation of, ‘Are you sure? Reaaally sure?’
But this is Zadeon. When he does something, he goes all out.
He lands on me like an Orca going for a seal meal. I gasp and try to bring my limbs into my body on instinct but he tumbles us down to the bed - him landing on the bottom, his horns hanging off the bed, his neck straining up as he rubs his face all over me.
It isn’t gentle like I expected. It isn’t even frustrated like he gets with the pillows.
This is desperate and raw and hungry…
And…
I squirm.
He pauses to inhale deeply. Then he groans and he starts... licking me.
“Ahhh!”
And then I kick myself, because he’s stopped.
His eyes look wild. He’s breathing very hard - but he stopped.
I bite my lip, so grateful to him for - for just being him. He’s so good.
I get one of my hands between us to press into his… chest. Slowly, I move up and down, reassuring me as much as I am him.
It’s Zadeon. Just Zadeon.
“I-It’s okay. You just surprised me. Keep going.”
He takes me at my word. But this time - his next lick is slow. He slowly takes hold of my hand, and his eyes never leave mine as his tongue drags over my palm - and I feel a little bump press onto my skin.
Odd.
He finds it odd too because he lets his head fall back and he sticks out his tongue, and starts to examine it with his fingers.
His horns are so long they are touching the floor, so his head is kind of propped as he checks himself out.
“What’s the matter?”
He closes his mouth and looks puzzled. “I don’t know. My tongue started feeling strange a few rotations ago but I could almost pledge that this bump erupted just now. I didn’t notice it before.”
“Maybe it’s a dead taste bud,” I offer.
“It doesn’t hurt. It is almost as if…” his eyes are going hot. “It satisfies the ache when I touch your skin.”
I put my palm right up against his lips. “Then by all means. Continue.”
His eyes are smiling when he shocks me by closing his teeth around my hand.
My whole hand just disappears inside his mouth.
His eyes say, Play with me.
I realize I’m even more trusting of him than I knew because while I’m startled - I’m not afraid.
And I feel the instant need to one-up him.
I grab his hand.
And this time… I don’t cover his skin with clothing.
There is no barrier when I bring my teeth over him.
Unlike what he’s doing to me though - his teeth are touching me, but not putting any pressure on me - I bite him.
His other hand suddenly lands on my cheek, cupping it, his thumb impacting just-so at the hinge in my jaw and I freeze.
Flashback.
When I tense, he looses an awful noise - an awful, predator noise - in his nose. It should be terrifying. But it is so Zadeon that it’s actually comforting.
And nothing like them.
His cheek meets mine, rubs back and forth slowly and firmly. The scent that wafts up in result is all burnt chocolate and Zadeon.
It’s comfort. And I’m back in the moment with him.
I spit out his hand and gasp, ‘I'm okay!”
The damage is done though; he looks upset, and sad, and I don’t want to see that.
I don’t want him to think of what they did to me.
I don’t want to think of what they did to me.
So I do something crazy.
I kiss him.
He makes a sort of surprised vocalization that comes out muffled against my lips. His lips have a texture to them that... I have no way to properly put into words-
A rumble from a jungle cat sounds as he breaks from our lock to drag his temple carefully over my forehead and nose.
Not fair to say lock; we were only tapping them to each other.
This time, I wriggle over him until I can plant my elbows in his big chest and lift up easier to explore his mouth. I lap my tongue against the seam of his lips, and enjoy that rumble he makes; I feel it travel through my body and it’s fabulous.
His lips are firm against mine but his touch is unsure. Untrained.
My inhale is big. I face my new reality right here, right now:
Zadeon is the presence I’ve felt all my life.
Zadeon is mine.
We’re together, right now, just the two of us.
Nothing that came before matters.
I’m doing this.
The entire time I’m processing my internal conversation, he hasn’t even blinked and frankly that’s getting concerning.
I put my hands on his forearms.“I want you on top of me.”
If I hadn’t been watching him nearly as intently (I am blinking after all) as he was me, I’d have missed it.
His pupils flare so huge his irises momentarily disappear.
And then I’m looking up into his eyes. He just rolled us! He can move so fast.
He’s over me, his shoulders even broader looking, the underside curls and twists of his horns cast in shadow that makes them look even more intimidating.
He leans in, and croons, “Still okay?”
...I am.
I’m okay.
I want this.
His tongue on my cheek yanks me right back in the moment. He goes still.
Because he felt me jump.
I huff a laugh. “S’okay, I wasn’t expecting that.”
He doesn’t ask me if humans don’t lick each other�
��s cheeks. He also doesn’t ask me if they smush their faces on their partner’s faces.
I did tell him I wanted him to use me like he uses the pillow. To touch me the way he has wanted to.
I just… had… other scenarios in mind.
Let this be a lesson to me; my alien thinks differently than I do.
Very. Differently.
Of course I know that by now. I’m simply being reminded by a tongue at the moment.
Just like he does with my pillow, his arms band around me, sliding underneath me and lifting me up like I weigh no more than feathers do - and then he sets in. I’m basically on his lap while he holds me up and rubs his face on me. Rubs his tongue all over.
And by that, I mean he touches his tongue to all of my exposed skin - not in a ‘hot’ way, but… I don’t know what this is, exactly. It started off sexual - I thought so, anyway. But right now he’s intensely, entirely focused on leaving no skin unslurped.
Without actual slurping, thankfully.
Ugh. That would be gross.
This? This is just weird.
Still, after a moment I catch myself sighing - not out of impatience - from relaxation. I underestimated just how starved I was for simple, affectionate touch. And really, it’s almost like a massage. Not since the funeral after the accident have I had so much as a hug.
Not until Zadeon.
He’s having trouble reaching all the skin he wants to and when he lays me back on the bed again, I’m split between wondering if he means to continue on bathing me with his tongue and his face or if he intends to go right for the goodie box.
I’m therefore unprepared when he licks inside my elbow.
That should not feel as amazing as it just did.
There’s no explanation for why that would feel so good. Right?
I look down, and that’s how I notice his attention isn’t random. He is licking me all over, yes - but he’s specifically concentrating on… the bites.
And he’s lucky they don’t itch right now or I’d be clopping him in the nose trying to dig the itch gone.
Wait… my collarbone doesn’t itch either…
My hand flies up to touch it but - no, no more crazy desire to drag my nails over it. Not my shoulder either.
Or my neck.
And then his tongue is nosing up my shirt and just as I’m about to tense up - he licks the bite there too.
I collapse like a poorly set meringue pie.
Poooffff.
The low level itch that’s always there?
Ohhhhh finally - it’s gone.
I could kiss him right now.
In fact? I want to.
Tentatively, I put my hand into his quills.
He goes still, the white of his eye showing as he tries to look at me.
He’s so goofy - his tongue extended, frozen - that I laugh.
His lips turn up - the only thing that moves on him - and that only makes me laugh harder.
“You are are so…. cute!”
I don’t have a better adjective.
He deserves a better adjective.
Just as soon as I can, I’m going to nag the aliens into making me a thesaurus I can somehow access and cross check using this translator of mine. If they can translate languages instantly they can for darn sure give me alternative words when I want them, right?
“Come here,” I say softly - but I make sure to intentionally form the words so that they are lip-reading friendly.
He braces himself with one giant palm planting near my ribs, grazing the skin of my arm.
And I look down again. Because it’s not just that it’s low-level itch intensity. It’s that it doesn’t itch at all.
And have the punctures faded?
“YOU’RE KIDDING ME!”
My head bounces back when Zadeon leaps off of me, making the whole bed shudder.
“What! What is wrong?”
I point to the inside of my arm. The inside of my formerly - as in seven and a half seconds ago - fang-ravaged arm. “YOU CAN-” I try to swallow down my shouting. It’s just - my shock is so strong. “I did not know you could do this!”
A flash memory: he’d tried to lick me the day he saved me. I cringe. I’d hit his face and fought at first, when he started to pull me out. I’d thought he was planning to eat me.
He was trying to heal me.
His eyes watch me, taking careful note no doubt of my comprehension. “My saliva can heal the rest.”
He’d told me his spit… I hadn’t believed him. Why would I believe that? That - this is just…
“First: you get major credit for not saying I told you so.”
The skin around his eyes pinches like he’d never consider being so unkind.
I sigh. Let me be half this kind in our relationship and we’ll do just fine.
“But where I come from, saliva is - look, you have to TELL me, spell it out to me next time, alright?”
His chin lowers in surprise. “You know how to read Rakhii?”
I pinch my eyes shut and wave a hand. “No, no, I’m saying you need to make it really, really clear to me.”
“I thought I had. You seemed to grasp what I was saying, I did not know we had opposing understandings.”
I heave a breath. “Man, I know it. Guess you’re gonna have to paint me a freaking picture so I know when we’re not on the same page.”
His face. “I... do not paint…”
I could just hug him. “Z?”
“Yes, my dream?”
I was going to say ‘work with me here’ but how can I give him a hard time? I can’t even jokingly do it, this wasn’t his fault. He’d been so earnest trying to get me to agree to this and I did not get it. I had no context. It’s so different from where I’m from; everybody knows introducing someone else’s saliva is a great way to get an infection. Just like it’s so different where he’s from where apparently, the ruling race keeps a Rakhii on tap instead of a first aid kit.
Alien saliva: a great way to reduce an infection.
What could have prepared me for that as a possibility?
Unreal. This will be our reality here. We are from two totally different worlds. Some things are so different, they’re beyond comprehension.
Other things though… some things stay pretty basic.
Take sex for example.
I sit up and scoot closer to the headboard. Taking a deep breath - just how did I expect us to have sex if I can’t take my pants off? - I hook my thumbs in the waistband of my loungey-yoga-y pants and slide them over my butt and down my thighs.
Once they are to my ankles, I do that half-awkward-but-you-try-to-be-sexy move where you step one foot on your clothing and pop them over one foot, then do the other. I try to yank my shirt off with some level of sultry too.
Predictably, it gets sort of stuck around my face for a second, making my hair stick up oddly.
Lovely.
When I gain the courage to dart a look at him, I know I shouldn’t have bothered worrying.
Zadeon’s jaw has dropped and he’s staring at me like I’m a Christmas Morning Pony.
Gracie would have a dirty joke to share right now.
So would Angie.
Hell; I’m going to say it.
He’s staring at me like I’m his Christmas Morning Pony, and he can’t believe he gets to ride me.
That is such a better ego boost than it probably deserves to be, but I’m going to run with it.
He takes one step towards me.
But it’s more like he stalks.
Goosebumps erupt on my legs and I curl my toes, my feet planting one over the other.
His eyes are fixed on my legs.
Not with sexual intent now; with concern. “You have broken out in tiny bumps.”
“I’m getting cold,” I explain.
And he did not-
He did!
He just gave me the ‘Geez-I’m-with-an-Alien’ look! HE SO JUST DID THAT!
That’s MY line. That’s
my look.
He gives me a sigh.
The nerve!
“Then I suppose I shall have to warm you.”
Oooh. I shiver now - but from his voice, not the temperature. He purred that so pretty…
CHAPTER 31
ZADEON
When I crawl over her, my eyes slowly making the climb up her body - and admirably, only getting stuck on the area between her legs - and that triangle of fabric against her there - for three clicks too long not to be noticeable - I fight the urge to wrap my arms around her.
Instead, I place my hands on her knees.
And watch her whole body go tense.
“I can lick all of the bites,” I tell her. I’m careful to refer to them not as your bites, but the bites. I don’t want her to think of them as a part of her any more. They may not fade entirely, they may scar over - but the ones that have come into contact with my saliva are already looking vastly improved.
Eyes glued to mine, she takes a deep breath before she peels her shirt from where she'd been clutching it against her chest.
It is difficult to understand how tiny scraps of fabric can be so alluring.
But I have waged battles in sandy, bloodsoaked pits that were simpler affairs than trying to peel my eyes from her lace covered chest.
“They’re small,” she says in an apologetic tone.
My hands are still on her knees, my thumbs making gentle circles on the insides, and wrapping around to the backs.
Her skin is very smooth here.
“My… breasts.”
I stop my stealthy path towards her thighs. “What about your breasts?”
She tilts her head in a move that is normally accompanied by a roll of her eyes -this time though, it’s almost as if she is so nervous she can’t commit entirely to the action. “My breasts are small.”
Her voice is small. It got small when she tried to tell me this ridiculous information.
“Is it normal for them to be larger?”
She hesitates.
“Would it be beneficial if they were of a bigger size? What is the purpose?” Then it makes sense. “Ah. To feed a large litter?”
Her face shows her confusion. “What? No,” she huffs. “No, just some…” she searches for words. “Some guys prefer large breasts.”
My eyes narrow. “Is there a reason you concern yourself with other males’ preferences?” I don’t intend for my question to come out as threatening as it sounds, but before I can apologize and try for a more neutral tone, she beams a smile. “You know? There’s not. There is no good reason to care what other people think. I’m being stupid.”
