Author's notes: Each chapter is in a different point of view. This is supposed to take place in the Silver Millennium.
I drew her into my lap, and she took care of the rest. I brushed her hair over her shoulder and my lips met the skin there. She rested her hands on my thighs and let her head tip back against my shoulder. I mumbled her given name. I only used that name when we were alone.
She was simply beautiful, and I didn't deserve her.
I let my hands wander up her sides and got a soft, feminine gasp in return. My name fell from her lips, and she moved her left hand to tangle in my hair. Long, white strands cascaded over my shoulder and mingled with the black falling back into place with our movements.
I wished we could do this more often, but our relationship would've been seen as betrayal by both our races. I wanted this bond to become more than whispered words, furtive glances, soft touches in the dark.
These times in the dark, these intimate moments were the only times I got to hear those words that I so desperately wanted to hear. Sometimes I said those words, sometimes she did. I needed to hear them from her tonight.
My hands slid further forward, over her stomach as I steadied her movements. My breath was coming in shorter and shorter gasps, and I noticed the pace of her breathing had picked up as well. The hand on my thigh moved to tangle with my hand on her stomach. I whispered nonsense in her ear; she groaned quietly when I raked my teeth over her lobe.
I wanted her desperately. I wanted her in every way a man could want a woman. I wanted her body, every time we were on the same planet. I wanted her heart. I had everything I wanted, except one thing. Every time we met in the dark, every physical liaison, every time she said those words that I wanted-no, needed-to hear, it all made me want that one thing more.
I wanted to marry her.
My hands roamed upward, almost of their own accord, and her fingernails dug into my scalp. My heart was pounding in my ears so loudly that I was afraid I'd miss those words when she said them.
And then she gasped and shivered against me.
She let her head fall back against my shoulder, and I allowed my forehead to touch her back. We sat like that for a long, quiet moment. It took all I had not to fall backwards on the to the bed, dragging her down with me. I knew that if I did, it would be that much harder to let her leave, to let her return to her own quarters.
It shouldn't have happened, but she did. She stood on her shaky legs, but even as she did, she started to collapse. I leaned forward enough to catch her, and we did wind up on the bed. She rested her head on my chest, and I tugged a blanket over us.
"You shouldn't let me settle in." I didn't reply. I didn't have to. She tilted her head toward me; I studied her jaw line. I wanted to hear those words so badly. "I don't want to go back. I wish I could stay."
"I wish for that as well." She smiled slightly, sadly and that left hand found my cheek. "I want so much more than what we can have." She kissed me gently and then rested her forehead against mine. I closed my eyes in response. "I wish..."
"Don't," she cut me off. She always knew what I wanted, that thing I wanted more than anything. And since the first time I told her I wanted a marriage, a life with her, she stopped me every time I mentioned it. Better not to stoke that fire, she'd remind me.
We lay like that for a while, our foreheads touching, her weight supported by my chest, our eyes closed. And then she said those words I wanted to hear. "I love you, Zoicite."