“I want to keep you,” I murmured unsteadily, pumping into her mouth. “I want to mate you, not just once but every day. Every night.” Fiona’s eyes got bigger. Brighter. Shiny, as if with more tears. But maybe not, because none fell. “I want to share my tent with you,” I went on because I found I could not stop now. “Or even a cave, if that is what you want. I would live in a putrid pool of water with you if only you would have me. But it has to be with you, Fiona.” This was the heart of it. This was the hard and urgent truth. The inescapable centre of my life. “I have to be with you.”
