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The bed wouldn't have been big enough for me and two of most of the other men, but Kitto and Rhys both took up less room than most. There was room for the three of us.
I lay between the smooth, muscled weight of the two of them, and it felt so good. The sensation of it made me close my eyes and simply concentrate on the feel of their bodies against mine. I had needed this, to be comforted by people who cared for me, to be held, and not to have to worry. Had Doyle understood that I would have lain there tense, listening for his pain sounds, and not truly rested? Perhaps he had.
Only now, as Rhys and Kitto ran their hands over me, laid a kiss on first one shoulder, then the other, did I realize that it wasn't about sex today. It was about needing to be held, needing to be cared for. Was I so weak that I needed this, even when the man I said I loved was injured? Would I ever be truly content with the touch of just one man, no matter who it was?
I didn't love Doyle any less as I lay between the two men, but they gave me something he could not. They gave me uncomplicated touch. I did not love either of them in that way. I loved them, but… but their tears did not cut my heart. Their sorrows made me sorrow but I did not bleed as they bled. Love makes you weak and strong. There had been that moment earlier today when I'd thought my Darkness was no more. It had been like losing a piece of myself. It had frozen me, made me lose focus. Dangerous, it was. But hadn't I done the same thing when Galen had nearly died by assassination in faerie? Yes, I had. I'd loved Galen since I was a child. A part of me would always love him. But it was the love of a child, and I was no longer a child.
"You're not paying attention," Rhys said.
I blinked up at him where he lay beside me. I must have looked surprised, because he laughed. "Your body was enjoying being touched, but your mind was a thousand miles from this bed." The humor died, leaving his face a little sad. "Has it happened already? Do Doyle and Frost get all of you now?"
It took me a moment to understand what he meant. "No, it's not that."
"She's thinking of politics and power," Kitto said from where his head lay on my hip and thigh.
Rhys looked at the other man. "In the middle of foreplay she's thinking about politics? Oh, that's even worse."
"She often touches me and thinks at the same time. It seems to clear her mind."
Rhys looked down at me from where he was propped up on his elbow. "Did all that touching simply clear your head?"
It was an insult to have not been paying attention. "I was enjoying it, Rhys, honestly. But my mind is racing a thousand miles an hour. I can't seem to make it still.
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