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She bit her lip, unsure if what she said would make matters worse, but she wanted him to know the truth. She didn’t want him to think the reasons they couldn’t do this was because ofwhatorwhohe was. She didn’t want him to think he was terrible when she thought he was pretty in an otherworldly way.

“I want you to touch me,” she admitted, her brows knitting so tightly it pulled on the webbed scarring on her forehead.

“Can we not touch in other ways?” He slid his hand down so he could cup the side of her neck and brush his thumb up and down between her collar bones. “Every time your scent changes, I have this desire to... lick you.”

Just the idea of his tongue on her pussy, her chest, or in her mouth, had her body warming in want.

She shook her head.

“I’m afraid of you,” she said, causing his orbs to whiten and for his hand to fling away. She reached for it so she could hold it reassuringly. “If I let you touch me in other ways, or show you what sex is, I’m afraid you’ll try to fuck me and split me in half in the process.” She knew she was saying words he wouldn’t understand, which was the only reason she felt safe to do so. “I’m not just soft, I’m breakable. You don’t seem to know your own strength, and even when you hug me, you hold me too tight. You’ll be excited, distracted, and you may not realise I am in pain.”

He’d already shown her he couldn’t control himself when he fucked her tits and came against them. Even though she’d enjoyed it, she’d been afraid when she’d been pinned beneath him. They’d been lucky, and that was only until he stabbed her thighs with his claws.

Since he didn’t remove his hand, as though he was frozen as he tried to digest what she was saying, she petted him. From the creases of his palms all the way to his claw tips, she stroked him.

“You cannot prepare me, and I cannot do that on my own. I’m too small, and I would need help.” Not that she thought the weapon of destruction he had between his thighs would actually fucking fit. “I want you to touch me, and the more you show me how sweet you are, the more I want you, but you being a big Duskwalker with sharp claws, and me being a small human with no healing capabilities, makes that impossible.”

Gosh, she was rambling, but she didn’t know if she was getting through to him. It sometimes took a while for Ingram to understand, and she was happy to explain it to him, to be patient with him, but his humanity only seemed to reach so far.

This, however, sheneededhim to understand. She wanted him to know that it wasn’t her emotions stopping her, but the dangerous parts of him.

He was big, and scary. He was violent, and rough.

And sheknewhe’d be really upset with himself if he hurt her, and even more so if she bled... and he ate her because of it.

I can’t believe I want to fuck something that is always one wrong move away from making me a snack.

“I don’t know how to change these things, Emerie,” he eventually stated with a whine in his voice. “I don’t know how to make myself more... human for you.”

Just when she thought her tears were calming, his words made them dot her eyelashes and threaten to fall again.

He wanted tochangefor her. No one had wanted to be ‘better’ for her, had wanted to fit her rather than try to fix or put up with her.

Yes, his exterior was the problem, but she didn’t want it to change. She just didn’t want it to be in the way. She liked his beak, especially when he rubbed the smooth side of it against her in affection. She’d liked the way his claws tickled her skin, or how his scales scraped against her.

And his heart... his winsome and tender heart... how could anyone not be attracted to it? He wasn’t perfect – sometimes his lack of intelligence could be frustrating – but it was also what made him who he was. A creature that wanted to be kind and gentle, even if he didn’t know how.

His tail curling around the side of her ankle or knee as he slept had her stomach quivering in tenderness. Her face would turn red as she bumped against him so he would unconsciously do it.

Even just his cuddles and seeking of platonic affection was more adoration than she’d received in all her life.

Emerie was beginning to pathetically crave it.

“You don’t need to be more human. Human men have made me feel horrible. You shouldn’t compare yourself to them, okay? I’ve regretted all of them, even the one you smelled on me back at Zagros Fortress.” She tried to give him a smile, even though her lips shook the entire time. “And you shouldn’t be envious that they’ve looked under my shirt when they haven’t.”

Even though his orbs remained blue, his head jerked at her last statement. “They did not see either?”

“No,” she answered. At least... not for many years. Only in the beginning, when she hadn’t yet learned it was just best to keep her clothes on. She’d had three partners in her life, both sexual and emotional, and they’d all let her down in some way. “I... don’t feel pretty. I haven’t for a long time, and it makes me want to hide. Not just from you, but also from myself.”

“But you are beautiful, Emerie,” he repeated once more with unwavering conviction. “You are colourful and lovely, like a pretty butterfly.”

“Okay,” she conceded, while licking at the salty tracks of tears that had trailed across her lips. She was unwilling to convince him otherwise, when nothing he said would change how she felt about herself. “Like a pretty butterfly.”

With the hand she was still holding, he brought it up, only to hesitate right before her face. He semi-closed his hand and used the back of a knuckle to wipe her cheek as though he wanted to avoid placing his claws against her.

“I did not mean to make you cry.”

“It’s fine.” She tried to laugh. “I’m secretly a big crybaby. I just don’t usually let people see that.”