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A Stroke Of Midnight :: Гамильтон Лорел
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He looked at me then, and hiseyes held disbelief. He simply did not believe that I meant what I said. He did not trust that I would not hurt him, or cheat him, or starve that part of him that Andais had abused for so long.
I went to my knees, and closed the distance between us, with my hands on his shoulders. “Kiss me, please.”
“Please,” he said, and he raised eyes to me that glittered with tears, but held anger. “You say ‘please,’ what trick is this?”
“I say please, so you know that it is not an order. I ask for a kiss, because I want one, but only if you wish to give it.”
He looked back at the men ranged around the room. “Does she understand what this means to us, to be asked?”
Most of them nodded. “She understands,” Doyle said.
“That’s why she does it,” Nicca said, “because she feels our need.”
Adair turned back to me. “What would you have of me?”
“Only what you are willing to give,” I said.
He came to my mouth with a sob, but the moment our lips touched, it was as if all the uncertainty vanished. His mouth ate at mine, his fingers dug into my arms. He climbed onto the bed and forced me back against it. He laid his body on top of me, and found, as most of them did, that he was too tall for true missionary position. His body was heavy with need, but not as heavy as it would grow. He grew larger even as he hesitated above me, supporting himself on his arms.
He held himself above me, working very hard not to touch any part of me. I remembered that when I had met him in the hall yesterday his magic had recognized mine. That even being this close to him with my clothes on had made our magic shiver together. Tonight it was as if his body was cold. His hand had been warm in mine. He was alive as any man, but his magic seemed locked away.
I gazed down the length of his body, his skin the color of sunlight through leaves, that wonderful shade of gold that no human suntan can touch. Sun kissed the sidhe called it, and sun kissed it was. I brought my gaze back to his face, and the threefold color of his eyes. Their inner ring of molten gold, then a ring of pale yellow sunlight, and last, and thickest, was an orange-red, like the petals of a marigold. His brown hair had been shaved so short that his face seemed more naked than his body, as if something more important than mere hair had been taken from him when the queen took all that beautiful hair.
He looked at me then, and hiseyes held disbelief. He simply did not believe that I meant what I said. He did not trust that I would not hurt him, or cheat him, or starve that part of him that Andais had abused for so long.
I went to my knees, and closed the distance between us, with my hands on his shoulders. “Kiss me, please.”
“Please,” he said, and he raised eyes to me that glittered with tears, but held anger. “You say ‘please,’ what trick is this?”
“I say please, so you know that it is not an order. I ask for a kiss, because I want one, but only if you wish to give it.”
He looked back at the men ranged around the room. “Does she understand what this means to us, to be asked?”
Most of them nodded. “She understands,” Doyle said.
“That’s why she does it,” Nicca said, “because she feels our need.”
Adair turned back to me. “What would you have of me?”
“Only what you are willing to give,” I said.
He came to my mouth with a sob, but the moment our lips touched, it was as if all the uncertainty vanished. His mouth ate at mine, his fingers dug into my arms. He climbed onto the bed and forced me back against it. He laid his body on top of me, and found, as most of them did, that he was too tall for true missionary position. His body was heavy with need, but not as heavy as it would grow. He grew larger even as he hesitated above me, supporting himself on his arms.
He held himself above me, working very hard not to touch any part of me. I remembered that when I had met him in the hall yesterday his magic had recognized mine. That even being this close to him with my clothes on had made our magic shiver together. Tonight it was as if his body was cold. His hand had been warm in mine. He was alive as any man, but his magic seemed locked away.
I gazed down the length of his body, his skin the color of sunlight through leaves, that wonderful shade of gold that no human suntan can touch. Sun kissed the sidhe called it, and sun kissed it was. I brought my gaze back to his face, and the threefold color of his eyes. Their inner ring of molten gold, then a ring of pale yellow sunlight, and last, and thickest, was an orange-red, like the petals of a marigold. His brown hair had been shaved so short that his face seemed more naked than his body, as if something more important than mere hair had been taken from him when the queen took all that beautiful hair.