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A Stroke Of Midnight :: Гамильтон Лорел
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“But some nights you like to fuck,” he said. “I pretty much always want to make love.”
I smiled at him. “I could argue that.”
He tried not to smile, but failed. “Not if what you did in the hallway was fucking.”
“That was fucking with Mistral. Sex depends on the person you’re with, Galen. Lovemaking rises and falls on the rhythms of the people involved.” I held my hand out to him. “Come to me.”
He shook his head. “If I come to you now, I won’t be able to come to you when Nicca finally enters you.”
“I can bring you back with a little bit of magic.”
“Yeah, but if you do it immediately, it hurts a little.”
“You never told me.”
I looked down my body at Nicca, who had gone very quiet, his head resting on my thigh more for a pillow now than for sex. “Does it? Hurt, I mean?”
“Until recently I almost always shared my night with Rhys, so with two of us in the bed there was more waiting between times. So no, it did not hurt. But if I had to go straight back to it, it might,” he said.
“Doyle and Frost never complained,” I said.
“I think pain is more useful for them in the bedroom than it is for me or Galen.”
I thought about that for a second. “Maybe.”
Galen’s voice came soft. “Is the reason you want me this way that you don’t want me to be your king?”
I started to say no, then hesitated. It wasn’t my motive for the oral sex, but the last part was true enough, or had been.
“I want you like this because I want you,” I said.
Nicca spoke with his head still pillowed on my thigh. “I’ve seen her do this with more than just Mistral. She does seem to enjoy it.”
“Sage, you mean,” Galen said, but still didn’t sound happy. His face did what it almost always did: it showed his every emotion.
“Yes,” I said, and wasn’t sure what to do to reassure him. It wasn’t like Galen to pout this much. This was more Frost’s speed.
“Sage,” he said again, “another who won’t ever be your king.”
I sighed. “We have a night of ecstasy in front of us, and you’re spoiling it with hard questions, it’s not like you.”
“No, it’s more like Frost.”
He’d spoken exactly what I’d just finished thinking. He’d done that several times tonight.
He continued with, “You complain about his moods, but you seem to like him better and better. Maybe you like your men a little more complicated.”
I didn’t know what to say to that.
“But some nights you like to fuck,” he said. “I pretty much always want to make love.”
I smiled at him. “I could argue that.”
He tried not to smile, but failed. “Not if what you did in the hallway was fucking.”
“That was fucking with Mistral. Sex depends on the person you’re with, Galen. Lovemaking rises and falls on the rhythms of the people involved.” I held my hand out to him. “Come to me.”
He shook his head. “If I come to you now, I won’t be able to come to you when Nicca finally enters you.”
“I can bring you back with a little bit of magic.”
“Yeah, but if you do it immediately, it hurts a little.”
“You never told me.”
I looked down my body at Nicca, who had gone very quiet, his head resting on my thigh more for a pillow now than for sex. “Does it? Hurt, I mean?”
“Until recently I almost always shared my night with Rhys, so with two of us in the bed there was more waiting between times. So no, it did not hurt. But if I had to go straight back to it, it might,” he said.
“Doyle and Frost never complained,” I said.
“I think pain is more useful for them in the bedroom than it is for me or Galen.”
I thought about that for a second. “Maybe.”
Galen’s voice came soft. “Is the reason you want me this way that you don’t want me to be your king?”
I started to say no, then hesitated. It wasn’t my motive for the oral sex, but the last part was true enough, or had been.
“I want you like this because I want you,” I said.
Nicca spoke with his head still pillowed on my thigh. “I’ve seen her do this with more than just Mistral. She does seem to enjoy it.”
“Sage, you mean,” Galen said, but still didn’t sound happy. His face did what it almost always did: it showed his every emotion.
“Yes,” I said, and wasn’t sure what to do to reassure him. It wasn’t like Galen to pout this much. This was more Frost’s speed.
“Sage,” he said again, “another who won’t ever be your king.”
I sighed. “We have a night of ecstasy in front of us, and you’re spoiling it with hard questions, it’s not like you.”
“No, it’s more like Frost.”
He’d spoken exactly what I’d just finished thinking. He’d done that several times tonight.
He continued with, “You complain about his moods, but you seem to like him better and better. Maybe you like your men a little more complicated.”
I didn’t know what to say to that.