"Samantha," St. Benjamin murmured delicately into her ear, "wake up." Samantha did exactly that, and found herself leaning against St. Benjamin's shoulder, her head cradled against it by his warm, comfortingly sturdy arm. He smelled the same as he did in his scorpion form, like fireflies and pine nuts. She suddenly remembered how she got to her current spot. "I'm sorry for collapsing on you," she said breathily, trying not to moan to stay awake, "I haven't eaten in a few days, and now I'm weak from hunger. I don't have any food, and as you can tell, I can't go and get any now." St. Benjamin didn't reply, but he placed his other hand, so warm and dry, against her bare cheek. Although Samantha had begun to sweat from weakness, he couldn't help himself as he stroked her soft, smooth skin. It was like nothing he had ever touched before in his life, and he couldn't believe that something so perfect could belong to someone so real, much less someone who was lying prone, willingly, in his arms. He could feel the delicate bones in her face beneath her pliant skin, which gave way to his fingers when he pressed it and then returned to its original shape.

Samantha could hardly guess the thoughts in St. Benjamin's head, but she heard him exhale in what would have been a sigh in other circumstances, and she appreciated him wiping the sweat from her face. Still lightheaded, she leaned into his touch, and she did sigh, letting out the softest moan as she did. "I'm too weak to move," she admitted, "and without food, I won't be able to. I'm sorry, I truly didn't mean to impose on you or touch you without permission." St. Benjamin still said nothing; although it was dark, at this close range he could see the shadow of her outturned lips as she spoke, and he was breathing in her delicious vanilla scent ever since she turned her head, leaving her neck open to him. Samantha could hear his deep breathing, and felt a vague sense of worry that he wasn't responding, but everything was beginning to feel more and more like a dream.

"Your- your beast form," she breathed, "it's amazing. I've never met anyone who could do anything like that. It's funny, I think I used to be afraid of scorpions, but I'm not afraid of you." She giggled, though she hadn't made a joke, "I'm not afraid of you at all. Your tail, it could have stung me, but instead, you used it to help me. It's such a strong tail, I didn't know that scorpions could have such strong tails, but I've never been up close to one in real life before." Samantha turned her head toward St. Benjamin's, or at least toward where she thought it was, before mumbling, "Thank you for showing me that. It's amazing. You're amazing. Thank you. I think I need to sleep." Her eyes were fluttering closed when St. Benjamin finally spoke. "No," he replied, his voice deep with all the feelings coursing through him, "What you need is food. If you can trust me, I can feed you." Before Samantha could respond, a third set of limbs sprouted from St. Benjamin's body, near his hips, and they began to dig into the dirt floor between him and Samantha.

"Trust you?" Samantha murmured, "Of course I'll trust you. Isn't that how we started this to begin with? You trusted me, I'll trust you." St. Benjamin cradled her head with his shoulder once again, and took hold of Samantha's far hand. He placed it on his cheek, and she intuitively began to explore his face with her fingers, much as he had with hers. She had never been able to see his face, and despite her drowsiness, she was intensely curious to know what it looked and felt like. The skin on his face was oily, but not terribly so; she felt a long dip in his cheek that was covered in skin with a slightly different texture. This must have been a scar, and she gently followed it up and across his face, then traced it back down into his neck with her finger. "You have to kiss me," St. Benjamin said unsteadily, as if it took every last ounce of courage to say those five words. Samantha, who had finished tracing his scar, took her trembling finger and touched his nose. His nose was very large and hooked, and Samantha felt butterflies in her stomach as she realized these things. "Kiss you?" she asked softly, "What do you mean?" With more effort than she thought it would take, she raised her head to kiss the edge of his jaw, which turned out to be the only part of his face she could reach with her own.

"Like that?" she asked, obviously confused. St. Benjamin felt his heart pounding; he could not remember the last time it had beat so quickly. Although Samantha had given him the lightest of kisses, it was still the first kiss he had received in his life. Her lips were dry, and their soft touch on his skin was gone entirely too soon. "No, not like that," St. Benjamin told her, almost indulgently, "You need to kiss me on my mouth. I have never done this before, but this is like a kiss that scorpions give to one another. I just need to make some changes in my body, but if I can do that, I can use this kiss to feed you. Press your lips to mine, and open your mouth. Go slowly, and reach your tongue into my mouth. I will try to take care of the rest. Remember, go slowly, or you could get hurt." He felt Samantha nod against his body, and he brought his hand to her face once again. He brushed his thumb against her lips, parting them easily. The feeling of her soft lips against the small power of his thumb was exquisite, and St. Benjamin couldn't help but think that he never wanted this moment to end.

"Are you ready?" he asked her, leaning his face down so close to hers that his lips ghosted against hers as they moved. "Yes," she whispered back, and they both felt the movement of their lips against the other's. St. Benjamin closed the distance between them, hoping that Samantha would remember his instructions as he focused on the parts he would need to execute this particular bodily function while in beastman form. Their lips finally touched in a kiss, and St. Benjamin embraced Samantha's voluptuous body with his arm reaching down her back to support her. His other hand remained on her face, two of his fingers circling underneath her chin and jaw, the others spreading out to reach over her cheekbone to her ear and temple, and then his thumb grazing the long eyelashes that stuck out from her closed eyelids. This held Samantha's head in place while St. Benjamin began to use his lips to suggest that Samantha open her own.

Samantha was not exactly a stranger to kissing, and she was able to pick up on St. Benjamin's hints without much trouble. She was, however, extremely surprised when she opened her mouth and extended her tongue. Instead of meeting another tongue like her own, she found her tongue outlining two minature pincers in St. Benjamin's mouth. Even though she was still extremely out of it, Samantha drew back with both her tongue and her body. Her eyes flew open, and St. Benjamin used his thumb to calmly stroke the top of her cheekbone as though to reassure her that this was what she was supposed to do. Her head and body remained immobile thanks to the solid strength of St. Benjamin's arms and torso, and once Samantha breathed a sigh of relief, she returned to kissing him. She felt the parts of his mouth moving against her tongue as if trying to memorize its shape and its movements, and then she felt things change again.

St. Benjamin's mouth pincers were beginning to shovel something onto her tongue. It felt like a small ball of pudding, but stickier. This, she assumed, was the food he intended to give her. She had no idea what it was made of, and the thought briefly crossed her mind that it would be better for her not to know just now. Whatever it was, it tasted extremely nutritious and not unpalatable, though definitely on the bland side. Samantha reminded herself that she ought to feel grateful to receive anything at all, especially something that St. Benjamin, who barely knew her, was going to great lengths to give her. She took the small amount of food into her own mouth and swallowed it, inhaling and exhaling deeply against St. Benjamin's face. She was lucky, it seemed that she wouldn't starve after all.

****************

St. Benjamin was extremely focused on both his body and Samantha's. He drew up the nutritious mixture from deep within his body, expelling the unneeded, sperm-filled fluids through a duct between his legs and into the hole he had dug. He could under no circumstances allow this to touch Samantha, especially since her bottom half was scantily clad and still giving off the delicious aroma of estrus. He would not make her his mate under any circumstances, lovely and enchanting as she was. They would not reproduce, they would not have children. This absolutely could not happen, but he also could not allow this beautiful female to die. He had allowed his instincts to bring him to her, to fight for her, but he would stop them here. St. Benjamin focused instead on the pleasure of touching his mouth to hers and the embrace that was occurring within their mouths, between their lips. After a few successful rounds of passing her his bridal gift, they began to work together in tandem until Samantha had had her fill. Her movements slowed gradually until she stopped moving altogether, and she fell asleep in his arms, her lips still touching his own.