The air above his body wavered, like heat off a road, and the next moment there was no wound. He was back to creating the illusion of that perfect six-pack. Of all my lovers, only Rhys had it for real. "You don't need to hide, Sholto," I said.
"The look on your face is not the look I want to see the first time we make love, Meredith."
"Take the glamour away, Sholto, let me truly see you."
"It is no more beautiful than what used to be there." His voice was sad.
I touched the smooth skin of his shoulder. "You were beautiful. You are beautiful."
He gave me a smile as sad as his tone. "Meredith, no lies, please."
I studied his face. He was as fair of face as Frost, who was one of the most perfect men I'd ever seen. I said out loud, "The queen once called you the most perfect sidhe body she had ever seen. You are wounded, you will heal; it has not changed the perfection of you."
"The queen said that it was a pity that one of the most perfect sidhe bodies she'd ever seen was ruined by such deformity."
Okay, maybe mentioning the queen's words hadn't been a good idea. I tried again. I crawled to his face and leaned over to touch his lips with mine. But it was a cold kiss, and he barely responded. I drew back. "What is wrong?"
"In Los Angeles, even the sight of you clothed hardened my body. Tonight I am weak."
I gazed down the long length of his body to find that he was still soft, and as small as he got. He was one of those men that wasn't truly small even when soft; a shower, not a grower.
I had magic in me that could bring a man to life, as it were, but it was Seelie magic. I wanted to use less Seelie magic in this union, not more. Although Sholto had made the decision to accept the risk, I feared for the sluagh. I feared them losing their identity as a people.
Of course, there were other ways to bring a man to life besides magic.
I crawled, carefully, on the bare rocks, until I knelt by his hip. "You aren't weak, Sholto, you're hurt. There is no shame in that."
"To see you nude and not to react is shameful."
I gave him the smile he needed and said, "I think we can fix that."
"Magic?" he said, staring down his body at me.
I shook my head. "No magic, Sholto, just this." I traced my hand over his thighs, reveling in the smooth skin. The fey didn't have much body hair, but I think the fact that he was part nightflyer - a creature that had no hair - made him utterly smooth. Smooth as a woman and so soft, yet terribly male from the bottoms of his feet to the top of his head. I traced along the inside of his thighs and he spread them for me, so that I could sweep upward and touch the silken skin between his legs. He was still soft and loose as I rolled those delicate balls in my hand.
The touch bowed his spine, sending his head back, eyes closed. But with the pleasure came a sound of pain. The movement had hurt the butchered skin across the middle of his body. What progress I'd made wilted in the face of such pain.
He threw his arm across his eyes and made a sound between a sob and a yell. "I will be useless to you tonight, Meredith. I will be useless to my people. I will not bring us back to life with death, and I cannot bring us back with life."
"I would wait until you were healed, Sholto, if I could. But this night is about bringing life back to faerie. Console yourself - we will have other nights, or days. Other times, after you are healed, to do what we want to do. Tonight, we do what we must."
He uncovered his eyes and gazed down at me. His face held such despair.
"I can't think of any intercourse position that isn't going to hurt you, and you don't like pain," I said.
"I did not say I did not like pain, but not this much."
I stored that away for future reference. "I know. There are limits for most of us beyond which pain is just pain."
"I am sorry, Meredith, but I fear I have reached that point with these wounds."
"We'll see," I said. I leaned back over his body until I could kiss the front of him. I drew him, gently, into my mouth. The only other time I'd had him in my mouth he had been long and hard, and eager. Tonight his body was quiet, loose, and still.
At first, I was almost impatient, but I let that go. This was not a moment for impatience, or hurrying - this was Sholto's first time with another sidhe. This was one of his most treasured dreams, and he was coming to it hurt, and not at his best. He'd probably fantasized this moment, and now none of his fantasies was coming true. Reality was a harsher mistress than imagination.
I let go of the impatience. I stopped wondering what Doyle and Frost and the others must be thinking. I let go the thought that my powers were growing and I had no idea what they would do next. I let all the worries go, and gave myself over to this moment. I gave myself over to the sensation of him in my mouth.
I had been denied the chance to give o**l s*x to most of my lovers. They didn't want to risk spilling their seed anywhere but between my legs, wasting a chance to father the next heir to the throne - a chance to make themselves king to my queen. I didn't blame them, but I loved o**l s*x, and I'd missed performing it. The few times I'd been able to persuade anyone, he had already been excited - big, hard, which was a pleasure all its own - but I liked the feel of a man when he was small. So much easier to take all of him in my mouth. No straining, no fighting all that length or width.
I rolled him in my mouth, sucking gently, at first. But I wanted to enjoy all the sensation I could while he remained small, so I increased in intensity. I could feel him moving in my mouth, the skin sliding, the meat of him so easy to work with. I sucked him fast and faster, until he cried out, "Enough, enough."