Galen would, and that was part of his appeal, but the others? I wasn't certain of the others. That made my chest tight, and not in a good way. Would the handsome sidhe want the short human-looking mortal if they could have chosen elsewhere? I didn't know, and they would never tell the truth. Of course they wanted me, what else could they say? But only Galen, and Rhys, had paid me any attention when I was just an unwanted thing, barely tolerated after my father's death.
The relentless pursuit of a baby had begun to make me feel as if that was all that held them to me. But of course, it was. Once I was pregnant and we knew who the father was, they'd evaporate, go back to that cold distance. I would not have them forever. I looked at Rhys, the shortest of the Queen's Ravens, but every inch of him was muscled, hard, firm, and so strong. I turned to Nicca, and he gazed at me through a tangle of his hair, his dark eyes seemed almost to burn out through the rich, rich chocolate of his hair. I had traced my mouth and hands down the winged pattern on his back, like the world's most vibrant tattoo. He was almost too gentle for me in bed, too submissive. But he was beautiful, and for this short time he was mine, mine to do with as I saw fit. Everyone else was worried about the fact that I wasn't pregnant. I was worried, too, but I also knew that it would close doors for me, shut me away from things I wanted. While I had them, I wanted to truly have them, not just play baby-making factory.
What did I miss most? That was easy. I missed the feel of a man in my mouth, where he started soft and small so I could take all of him in, even his balls, then feel the change in texture, in the sensation of it. I loved it, from beginning to end, and the last time I'd been able to do it, completely, had been with my last boyfriend. And he hadn't been sidhe, and he hadn't been capable of anything close to Sage's glamour. I wanted the feel of that hot release inside more than just my womb. It wasn't the thought of Sage that tightened things low in my body, but the thought of someone pouring himself down my throat.
"She's thought of something," Nicca said.
"What's put that look on your face, Merry?" Rhys asked.
"If Sage's glamour wins the night, I want him in my mouth. I want to feel one of you come inside my month."
"You know why we don't," Rhys said.
I'd sat up, pulling away from Rhys's body. "I know, I need to be pregnant, but there's more to sex than making babies." I took in a deep, shuddering breath. "I want to watch one of you bring yourself, while I watch. I want to feel you hard and firm against every inch of my body until you come. I want to be covered in it, not just one round of baby making after another." I felt strangely sad. "One night someone will get me pregnant, then once we know who the father is, everyone else is gone." I looked at all of them, even the tiny demi-fey standing on Rhys's stomach. "I want to make the most of all of you while I have the chance."
I touched both the larger men's thighs with my hands. "You spent centuries being denied so many more things than just intercourse. Don't you want those things back?"
Rhys sat up, sending Sage fluttering into the air. Rhys hugged me. "Merry, I'm sorry. I'd love to oblige, but..."
I pushed away from him. "But we don't want to waste any seed. Yes, yes, it's all very important. I'm not even arguing. But for a night here or there, I want us to do whatever we want to do, and not worry about whether we're making babies or not."
"I don't think Doyle would allow that," Nicca said.
I turned on him and felt the anger rising through me like a hot wind. I felt it trip my magic, spread it in the beginning of a glow inside my skin. "Is Doyle here in this bed tonight?"
"No," Nicca whispered, and he looked worried. "I'm sorry, Merry, I didn't mean..."
"I am princess, and I will be queen." I shook my head. "I'm tired of everyone arguing with me. Fine, fine, for tonight intercourse with the two of you, but not with Sage."
I held my hand out to Sage, and he landed on it. He was strangely heavy, as if he weighed more than he should have. I'd held his Queen Niceven in my hand, and she weighed nothing, all air and gossamer, but there was meat to Sage.
"But you'll do what I want, won't you, Sage?"
"It would be my pleasure, Princess." He gave a sweeping bow, then fluttered up, gave me a quick kiss on my mouth, and rose laughing into the air. "You'd be surprised how many sidhe women won't suck a man's dick."
"You've been seducing too many Seelie sidhe," I said.
He looked down at me, hovering on his stained-glass wings. "Maybe, or maybe too many things in the Unseelie Court have sharp teeth. A man's got to be careful where he puts himself, or he'll lose more than his virtue."
"I don't bite," I said.
He pouted. "Oh, too bad."
I smiled at him. "Well, if you like it rough."
He looked serious for a moment. "Up to a point, yes."
"Show me the point."
"Merry doesn't get your point until you've bespelled all three of us. What do we get if you fail?" Rhys asked.
"I will never again try to put my point on, or in, the princess."
"Your word of honor?" Rhys said.
Sage put a hand over his heart and bowed in midair, a strangely graceful gesture. "My word of honor."
I wanted to call it off then, because I knew Sage too well. He'd have never offered that particular wager unless he was sure. But before I could say anything, Rhys said, "Done."
I sighed, then realized that, strangely, I was half hoping we lost. But whether we won or lost, I was going to talk to Doyle. Queen Andais had given me my guards to do with as I saw fit, but once I had a king, would she take them back? Would they lose the only opportunity they would have in the next millennium to touch themselves, to climb into a woman's mouth, to cover her body in seed? Taking them back, and cutting them off again, sounded like something Andais would do. She was a sadist, after all. If I put that as a possibility to Doyle, he might see things my way. If he didn't, I'd try it as an order. Though I didn't have much hope for that. Ordering the Darkness to do anything he didn't agree with usually meant he ignored me. Andais had said that the reason she never took Doyle to her bed was that if he got her pregnant, he wouldn't be content to be consort; he would have been king in more than just name, and she didn't share her power. I was beginning to see her point. Goddess help me, I was beginning to agree with my wicked aunt. That couldn't be good, could it?