Chapter 8

MARGARET

He frowns, then shakes his head.

"Loving. Not good? I bad did?" he asks.

"No!" I exclaim. "Oh no, no," I shake my head. "Good. Great. Very, very good. But…"

I trail off uncertain what to say now. The thoughts that fill my head are not worries for me, but for him. How is it fair for me to pull him into my life, to make him love me, or at least be my lover, when I'm so much older than he is? After all, how long have I got left, especially compared to him? I feel like a selfish bitch and the one thing I've tried to never be in my life is selfish.

I lay here in the dim light staring into his brilliant, beautiful eyes as the most amazing orgasm of my entire life fades and I can't help but wonder what I think I'm doing. He deserves better. More. He deserves everything, a long life with a woman who can love him for more years than I have to offer.

"But?" he asks, his fingers trailing through my hair, over my shoulder and down.

"But," I pause because his fingers trail over my ass in a teasingly attractive manner and a shiver tracks up my spine. After it passes I take a second to gather my thoughts. "You. You're so young."

I press my hand to his chest, wanting with every fiber of my being to trail my fingers lower, grab onto his cock and give back all the pleasure he's given to me, but I can't just do that. I can't ignore this. He grunts and shakes his head, continuing to trace circles on my skin with his fingertips. He's slowly working his way back towards my pussy, I think.

"Young? No," he shakes his head. "Epis."

"Epis? Look at you. You're young, so much younger than me. I'm…" I trail off unwilling to say the word, but it's the thing that's echoing through my head.

"No," he disagrees, smiling then he lays his hand flat against my lips and presses down. An involuntary moan slips out of my mouth as he rubs. "Hmm. Good?"

"Uhhhhhh…." I can't answer with words, only a wordless moan it feels so good as he slips a finger inside, curling it up and softly stroking. I bite my lip to force myself to focus then pull away from his blocking hand. "I'm… old."

I force the two words out despite the distracting pleasure. He stops moving his fingers and raises part way up, and looking suddenly very serious. A low growl sound slips out.

"Old? This concern yours?"

I'm a little taken aback by the forcefulness of his tone and it's more than a little awkward having his finger inside me when he seems to be angry.

"Yeah," I say, forcing myself to not recoil.

My concerns are legitimate. I will not back down because I know I'm right. I take hold of his arm and slide his finger out, moving his arm away. I shift and sit up, crossing my legs and resting my arms on them. I lean towards him, knowing that I have to confront this now. I will not be that woman who drags him along. This isn't good for him no matter how much I want it.

"No," he says.

There's no anger in his voice, only a definitive finality. He shifts around until he is also sitting cross-legged in front of me, which is kind of weirdly awkward because his cock is still rock hard and now pointing at the ceiling of the tent. His tail slaps the ground behind him over and over.

"No?" I ask. "Just, no? Nothing more. No reasoning? What's your logic Mohlad?"

He frowns and for the first time breaks his gaze on mine, looking at the ground between us. His tail continues the rhythmic thumping. He raises his hands then shakes his head and drops them into his lap. When he looks up his gorgeous eyes are somehow even brighter than they were.

"Tajss," he says, pausing as if for effect then finishes with a flourish of his hand between us, "provides."

"What does that mean? Tajss provides. I mean, it's a mantra, sure, but what does that have to do with this? With us?"

I motion between the two of us and shake my head but I'm acutely aware of the head of his rock hard cock that is only an inch or two below my gesturing hand and damn it if my mouth isn't watering as I inanely wonder what it would taste like.

"Everything," he says, his voice low, husky and for some reason sounding breathless.

It's as if he made the most profound statement ever uttered and he leans in closer. His hands move to rest on my thighs and I'm so, so aware of the coolness of his scales and yes, I want him to touch me more and more. But no, not until I understand.

"Mohlad," I say, shaking my head. "Everything is not an answer. I don't understand. You're young and this," I motion my hand back and forth, "it's wonderful. Amazing. More than I could ever ask, but I'm old. I can't be…"

I trail off choking on the words because I want it. I didn't want to admit it, not even to myself but I want this. I want him. I want to grow old with him, but damn it I've already aged. The unfairness of it hits me in a way that I never expected. It's overwhelming and I really want to cry. I look at him with tears forming in the corners of my eyes and strive to get the emotional roller coaster under control.

In the dimness of the tent I hope, clearly in vain, that he won't see my distress. I don't want him to feel bad. He's been wonderful. Amazing, but this, all of this, is hitting me hard. I don't want a tryst with him. I thought, when this was happening, that I could be okay with it just being a fling. But it's not enough. I can't do this to him or to me.

"Epis," he says. "Tajss provides."

"You've said that," I say, raising my voice not in anger but frustration that I can't contain. "I don't understand. Mohlad, you're young. You deserve a woman who will stay with you, for a long time. I don't… I won't…"

He puts his hand over my mouth stopping me from talking. I'm so surprised by the action that I can only stare at him wide-eyed. He shakes his head and makes a shush sound.

"No," he says. "No. Say not. No."

I grab his hand and pull it off my mouth. I narrow my eyes, angry for the first time.

"I will say whatever I want," I say through a clenched jaw.

"Yes," he nods then shakes his head. "No. Understand." He frowns and growls with frustration. "Words… hard."

He hisses something in his own tongue and his tail slaps the ground behind him several times in what I assume is anger. He moves his hands up and down. I close my eyes and get my own temper under control.

"Mohlad," I say when I open my eyes. "Okay. Let's slow down. You understand my words, but have trouble finding them, right?"

He nods his agreement with enthusiasm. And right then I happen to glance down just enough to see that his cock is still rock hard and ready. There is an instant, brief but undeniable, that I want to throw all this aside and just ride that hard member until we both collapse. I don't, but damn the desire is there.

"Yes, yes," he says.

"Okay," I nod. "We can do this. Slow is fine, right? No rush. I'll wait."

He frowns and nods. His hands are still on my thighs and he massages them. It's distracting and damn I really want him to do so much more. I don't stop him because it looks like it's helping him to relax and work out what he wants to say.

He lifts one hand to his chest, placing it over the middle, more or less.

"Hearts," he says.

"Your hearts?" I ask and he nods then places his hand on my chest. I love and hate the coolness of his scales over my breast. The way my skin flushes hot and desire rushes in unbidden. "My heart?"

"Yes!" he says excitedly. "Hearts. Ours. Tajss provide."

I blink and frown not sure I'm really getting what he means.

"Are you saying Tajss made our hearts?" He moves his head back and forth in a rocking motion and makes a low hum. "Sort of?"

"Yes," he says. "Sort of."

I'd heard the rumors that the Zmaj mated for life. That they believed they would know their mate the moment they laid eyes on them. That it was ‘fate' or whatever their version of that was, which was apparently that Tajss provides. I don't know that I understand that in the slightest. Tajss is the planet, how could a planet do anything besides be a planet?

But he believes it. They all seem to. And the humans who've joined them, they seem to believe in something like it too, or so they claim.

"I don't know…" I say.

"Matter not," he says with an air of finality. "Is. Know. Know not. Is."

I arch an eyebrow at him, but there is a kind of logic to what he's saying. At least as far as it goes.

"But Mohlad, none of this changes," I shake my head not wanting to reiterate it but needing to at the same time. "You have a lot of years."

"You do," he says pressing his hand to my chest again.

I can't deny that my breath catches in my chest when he touches me and my skin flushes.

"No," I say.

"Epis," he says, his tail slapping the ground and his wings rustling to accent the word. "Life. Gives."

I stare at him feeling oddly blank and slow. Is he saying that epis will make me live longer? How could a plant, any plant, do that? Warmth suffuses me as I think about it. Could I live long enough to love? There is no doubting his certainty, but his certainty doesn't make it real.

Does it?

I've heard rumors. Stories. Of course I have. The ship has been buzzing with them. Everyone who's taken the epis talks about how different they feel. Mostly the heat bothers them less and they seem less likely to have a heat stroke but there have been other stories too. Old injuries bothering them less. Wounds healing faster. Things like that. Could this plant somehow speed up the body's healing? If it could do that, I mean what is aging but the decay of the body's cells….

"You're sure?" I ask, my throat tight.

He nods as he places one hand over his chest and presses his other to mine.

"Hearts," he says emphatically. "One. Belong." He pauses, staring into my eyes for one long, breathless moment. "Treasure. Mine."

Treasure. There it is. The word that everyone says the Zmaj use. The claiming.

My heart leaps into a gallop as it tries to race its way up my throat and I don't know, I guess out into the world. Into him. I want to meld with him. Be one with him and not just physically. I want his arms around me, his body, but also his soul.

My head is giddy with excitement. Tears of joy fill my eyes and I do the only thing I can. I give myself over to the joy that swells in every fiber of my soul and body. Rising onto my knees I move closer, wrapping my arms around his neck and staring into his eyes.

"No doubts?" I ask, choking on the words.

He smiles and all my doubts and fears wash away in the brilliance of it. He nods and his tail slaps the ground. I smile, shaking my head.

"Certain," he says. "Treasure."

"This is… crazy."

"Yes," he says and laughs. "Good crazy."

I laugh. His command of my language may not be the best but he does seem to understand the important things. He leans in and kisses me with all the passion and intensity I could ever ask for from any man.

I give myself to him. Heart and soul I give him everything and he gives me the same and more. Our connection is forged in the fire of our lips moving against each other, our tongues seeking, and our bodies melding.

Certainty rushes into my heart and thoughts. Impossible though it may seem. I have found my soul mate.