To Love a Shifter: A Paranormal Romance Boxed Set (41 page)

He paused, and Misty could sense him debating with himself about what he wanted to say next.

“Domenico---”

“I’m just fucking sorry you had to learn it without me by your side.”

Her fingers fell from his wound. The sincerity in his voice was impossible to deny, and her throat felt a little scratchy as she answered, “It’s not your fault.”

“It is.”

She shook her head and forced herself to look back at him. “It’s not, really. Besides, it’s all water under the bridge now.” She stood up, taking her time now so that she wouldn’t feel dizzy again. “We’re both better off apart.” Unable to stop babbling, she walked towards the gates, saying, “You have your life and I have mine here with---”

One moment she was about to reach for the gates, and then the next she found herself pushed against the gates, her breasts hitting the arm that Domenico had wrapped around her from behind.

“You have your life here with Allard? Is that what you were about to say?” Domenico growled, his control snapping when he realized that Misty was actually admitting to planning a life with another man.

Her mouth opened and closed several times. All Misty had wanted to say was that she was going to rebuild her life with the Faeries. Lysander hadn’t even entered her mind…but he didn’t have to know that.

She lifted her chin. “It’s my life---” Misty couldn’t say anything else, finding herself gasping instead as Domenico’s claws flashed out just before he completely ripped her dress apart with one slice.

She screamed. “What the---no!” Domenico had ripped her bra and panties away. Before she could struggle and scream again, he had turned her around and taken her lips for a hard, passionate kiss that inflamed her senses even as she tried to break free.

“You’re just making me want to fuck you harder, sweetheart,” he rasped against her throat, and she knew it was true when he pushed his hips towards her and Misty felt his cock actually swelling in size against her sex.

The feel of it was too much, and instead of screaming she heard herself moaning instead. “You bastard!”

“Scream as much as you want, Misty,” Domenico growled just before he sank his teeth into her shoulder and bit her hard enough to make her cry out. “No one will hear you.” He lifted her arms above her head, pinning it to the gates. “I’m going to fuck you so hard just so you’ll know no other man can please you this way.”

“You’re so full---” Misty forgot what else she had to say when Domenico lowered his head and took one nipple into his mouth and started to suck. She screamed instead, and she screamed again when it made him suck harder.

When she tried to keep her screams silent, he pulled away, his pants-covered cock teasing her bare sex while one hand kept her arms pinned over her head. “I won’t kiss you again if you won’t scream, darling.”

She glared at him. “Over my dead---” Misty tried not to moan as he pushed his hips harder towards her, her pussy becoming soaking wet at the feel of his cock.

Domenico released her all of a sudden that she could only stand there, her body shaking with desire. When Misty recovered enough of her senses, it was too late. Domenico was undressing himself, stepping out of his pants and kicking his shoes away. When he had taken off his briefs, revealing his straining cock, Misty bit her lip hard to keep herself from moaning again.

“
This
is all yours, Misty. Only yours.”

She squeezed her thighs close, not wanting Domenico to guess how he had aroused her even more with his words.

“Are you sure you don’t want to take it?”

They stared at each other, Domenico waiting, his eyes burning bright, while Misty’s body was as tense as a bow about to snap.

Domenico started to stroke himself.

Her control broke.

“Damn you,” she sobbed, the sheer strength of her desire engulfing her. “Take me, Domenico, take---” She cried out in utter ecstasy as Domenico was suddenly next to her, slamming her against the gates, his mouth taking her other nipple in the same time his cock slid home.

“I love you.” He said the words when he released her breast and moved to its twin, his hips never stopping its hard, deep movements, his cock sliding so far into her it brushed against her womb.

“
Domenico.”

He gripped her ass tight, shifting her for a better fit as his cock pummeled into her depths faster and more furiously, making Misty cry out his name again and again. It was the sweetest music, and he could listen to it all day.

“I love you.” He had to say the words even though he knew she didn’t believe him and wouldn’t return them.

He had to say it because that was what he felt, what he would always feel.

Her head had fallen back, her lips slowly parting open, and Domenico knew Misty was close. Keeping his gaze on her beautiful face, he withdrew almost all of the way out, knowing it would make her look at him.

She did.

He shoved his cock back inside her in full force, and Domenico was rewarded with the loveliest sight, Misty falling apart in ecstasy as she came, her body shuddering. Weakly, she held on to him as he sought his own release, his hips wild in its movements, his cock hungry for more of her depths because it had been so fucking long.

“Misty!” He threw his head back as he came, and he shuddered anew when Misty’s arms locked around him, as if wanting to be close to him. That had been so fucking long, too---the feeling of Misty wanting to be next to him.

“Misty,” he whispered against her hair even as he pulled her closer, urging her silently to wrap her legs around his waist more tightly.

“Misty, I love you so fucking much.”

She still didn’t answer but he could feel her tears leaving a hot wet trail on his cheeks and down his neck. His own eyes burned. “All those months, I gave you time to heal, but now it’s my turn. I want you back, Misty.” He touched her hair with his lips, and his words were both a promise and a threat.

“I won’t stop until I have you back and you understand that you’re meant to be mine.”

Something had happened between Misty and Domenico.

Lysander knew it right away the moment he met with Misty the next day. “Hello, my pretty.” He kept his voice light and casual as he came to her.

She tiptoed to kiss him on the cheek, and again the gesture surprised him. There was nothing sexual about it, but even so it made his cock harden. Why did she appear so irresistible to him?

“I’m sorry I didn’t get to check up on you yesterday,” she said guiltily. After what happened in the armory, Misty had allowed Domenico to take her back to her cottage. How could she not when she didn’t have anything to wear but his shirt? Just remembering her walk of shame, with her in the arms of a bare-chested Domenico, made Misty want to knock her head against the wall as many time as it took to get some sense back into her.

How could she have let herself make love with Domenico again? Hadn’t she learned anything? He was not to be trusted – no matter how much he seemed to care for her!

Lysander sighed. “I admit to feeling hurt.”

She felt even guiltier. “Tell me how to make up for it?”

He grinned. “I was just teasing you. It wasn’t even your prince’s fault.”

“He’s not my prince,” she said automatically but this time she paused afterwards, as if troubled by the words.

That pause troubled Lysander, too, alerting him to the fact that he had to move faster if he wanted Misty in his bed. He wasn’t stupid. He knew his worth, but not even the most impressive skills in bed would be able to seduce Misty away from the Moretti heir if she fell in love with him again.

“Of course he’s your prince,” he teased. “If the rumors are true, you worshipped him so much that everyone in the entire realm heard you screaming his name.”

Misty choked. “Lysander!”

It was the first time she had called him by his name, and the pleasure it caused disturbed him. She was beginning to matter to him too much, and that wasn’t something he had counted on. It was not a good thing.

Misty was gnawing on her lip. “What else did people say?”

Lysander’s lips tightened. Was he supposed to tell her that the women who did hear her screaming had all thought Domenico Moretti was so good in bed to make her sound delirious with pleasure? He did not want to think about that, not when he wanted to be the one to make Misty’s body go soft and tight with pleasure, to see her pussy filled to bursting with his cum.

His cock strained against his pants at the thought.

“Lysander?”

He answered slowly, “I don’t think you want to know.”

“I want to!” Did they think she was a slut? Did they---

“They were talking about how your prince was such a stud because after what happened, they saw him taking Ivory to dinner.”

She involuntarily took a step back.
That
was not what she had expected to hear at all.

Lysander’s conscience stirred at the way Misty had paled at his words, but he did not retract them. It was not his fault if women made fools of themselves – even if the woman was as kind as Misty.

“Stop looking so glum, Misty.”

She mustered a smile. “I’m not.” But her heart was heavy. Could it be true? After what had happened between them, could Domenico have taken another woman to his bed?

“Tell you what, why don’t we have a picnic and forget about all our problems and responsibilities for now?”

Misty hesitated. There were still terms of the agreement that they hadn’t yet ironed out, and the longer that took, the more danger they were in. Many of the other races would not be willing to offer the Faeries a helping hand without the Alliance agreement formally signed.

Lysander sighed. “Misty, stop being a martyr. It’s just one day – surely you deserve that much?”

She flinched at the term he used. A
martyr.
Had she been doing that all this time? Could it be the reason why Domenico never thought her fit to be his true mate?

Squaring her shoulders, she smiled brightly at Lysander. “Okay, a picnic it is. Let’s walk to my home first so I can grab some stuff and then we can go.”

While waiting outside Misty’s cottage, Lysander caught sight of Sir Belmont walking up the lane. Snapping his fan open for the sole purpose of antagonizing the old man, he called out in his soft languid drawl, “Sir Belmont, what a pleasant surprise!”

“Seeing you is a surprise but it is not pleasant,” the old man grumbled. “And stop it with that fan. We all know you are as homosexual as I am.”

He snapped the fan closed, grim-faced. If Misty had heard what the old man said, he would not be accountable for his actions. “What’s your angle, old man? Why are you being so nice to her?”

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that, Lysander Allard?” The old man gave him the evil eye. “It’s a disgrace, how you turned out.”

He scowled. “You just said you didn’t think I’m gay.”

Sir Belmont threw him a disgusted glance. “I wasn’t talking about that, you stupid boy. I’m talking about you – as a person. The Allards were once the gentlest of the noble families, the one with the heart of courage and generosity. It is a pity that as the last of your line you have become completely cold.”

“How can you say that,” Lysander hissed, “when I’m willing to give up my own life for our race?”

The old man remained unimpressed. “If that is all you can say for yourself then---”

The front door flew open, Misty coming out in a shirt and jumper, looking like a fresh-faced high school student with her face scrubbed clean of makeup. She brightened when she saw Sir Belmont. “Welcome back, Sir Belly.”

Lysander’s jaw dropped, momentarily forgetting his anger upon hearing what Misty called the other man. Even though he was known nowadays as their race’s own Grinch, everyone was also well aware that he had been one of the greatest swordsmen of his time.

Sir “Belly” ignored his slack-jawed look, his face creasing with a rare smile as he gave Misty a bag of fruits. “Ripe for eating,” he told her warmly.

Misty grinned. “Thank you! Let’s have tea sometime this week?”

“If you can spare this poor old man some time.”

Lysander wanted to choke. Was the old man
flirting
with Misty now?

Misty said earnestly, “Of course I’ll always have time for you.”

Yuck
was the word that came to mind as he watched Sir Belmont bask in Misty’s attention. Clearing his throat loudly, Lysander asked, “Shall we go?”

She gave her friend a regretful smile. “Catch up with you soon?”

Sir Belmont nodded. “You have fun wherever you’re going!”

“We’re just going on a picnic,” she explained quickly. “Do you want to---”

“The old man needs some rest, my pretty,” Lysander said just as quickly, knowing his plans would go nowhere if the other man was around.

Misty’s face fell. “Oh. Sorry about that. Maybe next time then.” As she turned away, Lysander caught sight of Sir Belmont giving him a dirty look. He was about to mouth “Fuck off” to the older man when Misty turned to him.

He gave her his most angelic smile. “Ready for our picnic?”

Lysander took her to one of his favorite places in the realm. Deep within the forests, hidden at the end of a brook was a cave he had discovered when he was a young boy. And after the Great War, it had served as his sanctuary---the only place he could be himself.

He had never brought anyone to his sanctuary until Misty, but he decided not to tell her that.

“This is great!” Misty had to shout her words because the roar of the nearby waterfalls would have otherwise drowned out her voice. Caves in the human worlds usually sparkled with stalactites and stalagmites but here in the realm of Faeries, the caves glowed with flowers that seemed to thrive in darkness, their petals shining bright in a rainbow of colors.

She shook her head in amazement. “Glow in the dark flowers. Did your ancestors create them, too?”

He shook his head. “I think you misunderstand how our realm works. Although we had sacrificed blood for this realm, none of it would have happened if not for Nature. It’s from her all our powers come from.”

In a very casual move, Lysander lowered himself to the ground and laid his head on her lap. Then he ordered her, “Comb my hair please!”

It was exactly the right thing to say, making Misty laugh, the tinkling sound making his cock jerk inside his pants. He ignored it again even though lately he had been taking cold showers every night – the only thing that kept him from trying to seduce Misty in her own home.

She hand-combed his hair, exclaiming with wonder at how soft it was. “I’m the one who should be envious of your hair! It’s so soft and shiny!”

He tried not to grimace at how very gay that sounded. One day, Lysander would have the chance to make Misty realize just how much of a man he was. But until that day came, he simply had to grit his teeth and bear all her assumptions – assumptions that he had personally nurtured.

They laughed and talked for hours, swimming afterwards and then eating lunch back in the cave. Replete, he laid back, his head again nestled in her lap, delighted at having the best vantage view of Misty’s breasts above him.

“Did you have fun, my pretty?”

She nodded.

“It would be nice to have this much fun every day, don’t you think?”

“It would be nice
and
surreal.” The old Misty would never have said something like that, but life had taught her certain hard truths.

“But it could happen, you know?” Lysander heard the snapping of twigs before Misty did. It made him panic, knowing that just the sight of Domenico could make Misty forget all about him. His voice was a little uneven when he heard himself ask, “What do you think about marrying me?”

She stared at him in openmouthed shock. “But y-you’re
gay
.”

“It doesn’t mean I don’t need a companion.”

When Lysander reached for her hand and linked his fingers with his, Misty realized just how strong he was, more like Milo than Daryl. She looked down at him, and his too-beautiful face was devoid of expression except for the fierce light in his lilac-colored eyes.

His voice was soft and beguiling as he whispered, “It would be a life where you’d never be hurt, never have to wonder if your partner is cheating on you or using you to his own ends.” The sound of snapping twigs was stronger now. He knew Domenico could have come to them without being heard, but that he was deliberately letting Lysander know he was coming in advance told him that the Moretti prince was reluctant to catch them unawares.