Hungry for her taste, he pushed her to the wall and finished tearing down her gown, uncovering her lace undergarment. He made short work of the fabric by slashing at the seam with his fingers. Both he and his wolf rejoiced at her scent. “You smell divine.” He opened her legs and kissed her intimately. “I’d like to hear you sing now,” he said when her whole body quivered in anticipation.
After a sleepless night and an entire day spent thinking of how soft and welcoming she felt around him, Valentine had no patience for lengthier foreplay. He considered turning her to face the wall, but an antique Cheval mirror was at the corner and he couldn’t resist the impulse and dragged Mirella before it.
“Look at us, kitten.” His wolf howled, and Valentine bit Mirella’s neck as he entered her, making her cry in surprise. “Look how beautiful we are.” His hands were splayed possessively around her throat and across her navel, pressing her to him while he thrust into her. “Do not close your eyes.” His fingers traveled lower to pat her bud. “Join me.” He nibbled at her earlobe.
When she didn’t do what he had asked, Valentine grabbed her wrist and placed her hand over her mound, then he guided her fingers to explore her folds.
At the double assault, her mouth opened in a silent “O” and her eyes became dark pools of desire.
“Do you like it, kitten?” His free hand yanked at her tresses to arch her neck and grant him easier access to her lips. “I own all of you,” he whispered before invading her mouth.
Timid at first, Mirella’s hand soon accepted his guidance and eagerly followed his instructions, opening her petals and caressing them at leisure. Valentine watched her reflection in the mirror and a surge of pride filled him, swelling his chest with a warmth he hadn’t experienced before.
“Sing my name, Mirella.” Under the control of his wolf, the nature of Valentine’s touches morphed from steady and controlled to fast and rough.
She responded, seeking his mouth and whimpering incoherent sounds that fueled his ardor to a new high. “Valentine—” It was a hoarse whisper, followed by her body contracting around him for several long counts.
He reached his release a heartbeat later, and it was pure unadulterated ecstasy. The kind of physical pleasure that has the power to transcend the moment and etch its memory deep inside someone’s soul. His wolf roared, and stars exploded behind Valentine’s eyelids as he spent his Vital Essence inside Mirella’s womb.
Panting, he took her in his arms cradling her light body to his chest, and kissed her tenderly. He walked to the edge of his bed, then carefully deposited her on the purple bedspread with the House Lobo insignia. Her auburn curls fanned around her shoulders, framing her white skin where his hands and mouth had left their marks.
He lay on his side, his head propped on his bent arm. “You please me so much.” Leaning forward, he left a trail of kisses over the pink spots on her flawless skin.
“You please me too.” She turned to her side and shyly smiled, revealing her dimples.
“I’m glad I do.” He brushed her mouth, then his eyes went to a strip of light-blue fabric entangled in her hair. It was a remnant of her gown that had somehow found its way into her tresses. He couldn’t help but smile at the recent memory of his frenzy. “Why didn’t you stop me this time when I tore your clothes apart?”
“Because the light in your eyes was different. You weren’t angry tonight.” She cocked her head slightly. “You were hungry.”
He nodded, pleased. “You are an excellent student. I’m looking forward to teaching you your next lesson, but you must rest now.” Turning in the large bed, he reached for the nightstand’s drawer, looking for a glass jar he always kept handy. “Here it is.” He picked up the jar, then moved back to her side and opened the lid, angling the container so that she could smell the wild lavender perfume. “This is a salve my medicus prepares for me.” He dipped two fingers inside the jar and collected a dollop of cream. “It soothes pain and swelling from falling from a draglet.” Smiling, he brought the fingers smeared with the paste between her legs and coaxed them to open with a push of his wrist. “I’m sure it will soothe the discomfort due to a vigorous encounter with an energetic husband.”
She opened to him, granting him access to her core, humming in contentment a moment later. “It works.”
“Like a charm. I’ve had to use it on more than one occasion—”
With a sigh, she languidly pushed against his hand. “Do you fall off your draglet often?”
“I also crash my Desert Fire, and I like to fight.” He chuckled. “Especially with people bigger than me. Because let’s face it, knocking out an opponent smaller than you isn’t great fun, is it?”
“I don’t like the idea of you getting hurt.” She caressed his face, and he found himself leaning into her hand.
“Balenus always fixes me up.” He closed his eyes and inhaled her scent. She smelled of them. Her unique perfume combined with his created an essence that was more enticing than any fragrance his wolf nose had ever sensed.
A thought entered his sleepy mind, awakening him right away.
His Blessed Bride would be gone soon.
His mood darkening, he finished rubbing her skin with the salve, then took her in his arms and kissed her slowly.
“It’s time for you to go to sleep.” Leaning away from her, he reached for the dressing gown Aldo usually left folded on the chair by the bed, and wrapped her within the silky fabric, covering her nakedness.
She burrowed into his embrace, trusting him, but her brows furrowed a moment later when he left the bed and headed toward the private hallway’s door.
Chapter Fourteen
Mirella didn’t say a word, but she was hurt.
“I’m busy tomorrow,” Valentine said, placing her down on her feet. He had carried her from his quarters to hers without giving her an explanation. His fingers had lovingly grazed her skin from over the silk she was wearing, confusing her further.
She nodded and he turned, walking away from her. He was still naked, showing in his departing the perfectly sculpted planes of his back. Her husband looked like he had been carved from marble. Like one of those ancient statues Mrs. Claretta had shown her to explain the difference between man and woman.
Mirella closed the lapels of his dressing gown tight across her chest, inhaling his lingering scent, fighting the urge to cry.
“Would you care for a bath?” Laura asked from behind, startling Mirella, who hadn’t heard the girl coming into the room.
Pivoting on her naked heels, Mirella answered, “No, thanks,” then noticed the big painting on the wall over the fireplace. “When did this arrive?”
“Master Lobo had it installed while you were visiting with him.” Laura’s hands were nervously working the hem of her lacy apron.
Mirella walked past her lady’s maid and stopped before the canvas. Valentine Lobo, the man who had just made love to her but wouldn’t sleep by her side, had also ordered that the painting she had admired be brought to her room. A chaise lounge that hadn’t been there a few hours earlier had been placed in front of the painting.
Angry, defeated, but also moved by her husband’s gesture, Mirella lowered herself to the cushion and stared at the placid sea furrowed by white waves. She wondered what might be passing through Valentine Lobo’s mind and hugged herself, missing his embrace already. Her fingers caressed the cold band of her wedding bracelet, and the movement lulled her into a slumber.
Several hours later, she awoke on the reclining chair. Laura must have tucked her under a soft blanket and kept the fire well stocked because the room was warmer than before. Eyes half-closed, she stumbled toward her bed and climbed on the sumptuous mattress that welcomed her in its nest of fresh linens and fine woolen blankets. She drew the collar of his dressing gown to her nose and the scent of the salve he had so carefully smeared on her body wafted up, reminding her of the intimacy they had shared.
After that, Mirella found it impossible to resume sleeping and deci
ded to go for a walk instead. She chose a dress appropriate for a morning stroll, even though it was still night and the stroll would be strictly indoor.
Lobo Mansion was a maze, yet she had nothing but time on her hands and needed the exercise. The day before, while Valentine was entertaining his guest, Mirella had spent time walking through the house escorted by Laura. The girl wasn’t a talkative companion, and Mirella missed her chatty sisters all the more for it.
Now, all alone in the deserted mansion, she retraced her previous steps and ended up in a different wing. At some point she must have taken the wrong hallway or turned left when she should’ve turned right. It was easy to get distracted when every few steps there was a pretty vase or a beautiful painting to look at. She wasn’t overly worried, though. Soon servants would fill the place for the morning chores and one of them would direct her back to her quarters.
Her steps resonated loud in the cavernous atrium she entered after wandering through several shorter corridors filled with more statues than she had ever seen even at the Goddess Temple. At the center of the room there was an oval fountain, an extravagant luxury displayed inside a private residence. Its central pillar sprouted gurgling water that cascaded into the pool at its base. Rose petals flowed lazily in a never ending loop while colorful fishes hovered over the crystalline surface, their tiny wings beating so fast they disappeared.
The air was redolent with a flowery scent and combined with the pleasant babbling of the water created a peaceful environment. Mirella sat on the edge of the fountain, happy she didn’t have to share the place with anyone else. Leaning over the edge, she dipped her fingers into the pool and found the temperature of the water pleasantly warm. A pink and orange fish dove under the surface and nibbled at her fingertip, making her laugh.
She was contemplating the idea of kicking off her ballet shoes and entering the fountain when loud steps and a booming voice startled her and she jumped up. From around the corner, she could hear a man and a woman talking to each other as they walked closer to the atrium. The topic of their conversation was intimate. Mirella didn’t want to eavesdrop but the couple was rather loud. She was about to run in the opposite direction when the largest man she had ever laid eyes upon came into sight.
“Good dawn, my lady,” the man intoned with a pleasant voice.
“Good… dawn, sir.” Mirella wasn’t sure about the stranger’s greeting.
The man was bigger than her husband, which was truly a wondrous sight to behold. He wore his blond hair in a loose braid he had swept to the front of his shirt. His eyes were a startling sky-blue and his skin was tan, revealing he was an outdoor person.
Chuckling, a redhead emerged from behind him. “Who are you?” the woman asked after giving Mirella a cold stare, her face no longer smiling.
Mirella was taken aback by the overtly direct question and the unfriendly attitude of the woman. “I am the Blessed Bride,” she said, raising one eyebrow. “Who are you?”
At Mirella’s statement, the redhead sputtered.
The man patted the woman’s back none-too-softly with his large hand, causing her to cough even louder. “I am Dragon Sol. At your service, Blessed Bride,” he said, bowing at his waist and making a flourish with his hand. “A true pleasure to meet the most beautiful flower of all Lupine.”
“It is an honor to meeting you, High Lord.” Mirella curtsied as she had been taught by Mrs. Tara, her etiquette tutor.
“No formalities, please. Among friends, I’m just Dragon.” The High Lord smiled, revealing white teeth that were slightly crooked in the front. The imperfection suited him fine and complemented the scar dividing his left eyebrow.
“Then I’m Mirella.”
The redhead seemed to have regained the use of her senses because she bowed, though not as low as society rules dictated, and said, “And I am Ronda.”
Mirella couldn’t help but notice that Ronda was at least one full head taller than her and that she was also attractive and curvy. The dress she wore accentuated her ample bosom and showed her ankles in a most scandalous fashion.
“Were you looking for Master Lobo?” Ronda asked, her lips curved up in a smirk.
“No, I wasn’t,” Mirella answered, without giving the woman the satisfaction of asking why she wanted to know.
“I’m done here. Would you break your fast with me, Mirella? Or is it too early for you?” Dragon moved before Ronda, effectively hiding her from Mirella’s sight.
“I could eat a light fare.” Mirella smiled at Dragon.
The man wasn’t a fool. He had come to Mirella’s help, and she appreciated a nice gesture when she was the recipient of one such gift.
“Please, follow me. I know the fastest way to the kitchens.” Dragon motioned for Mirella to step closer. Then he turned and acknowledged Ronda with a nod. “Thank you for your services, my delightful Ronda.”
Ronda’s irate face belied her next words. “My pleasure, High Lord. Your visits to the Harem are always welcome.” She exited the giant’s shadow and her eyes locked with Mirella’s unabashedly. “As the master’s favorite, it’s my duty, and I repeat a great pleasure, to satisfy Master Lobo’s guests as I satisfy him.”
Mirella saw the cruel light shining in the woman’s gaze, and her stomach relocated inside her throat.
“This way.” Dragon showed Mirella the hallway to the right.
Making an effort to look unaffected, Mirella straightened her back, smiled, and walked away. She had cleared the arched entryway when Ronda’s voice echoed from the atrium and stopped her mid-step.
“Master Lobo,” Ronda said, speaking louder than she had any need to. “I’m surprised to see you again tonight.”
Unwanted tears filled Mirella’s eyes, but she didn’t turn and she didn’t wait for Valentine’s answer. Instead, she steeled her voice and doubled her pace, leaving the hallway as fast as she could. “I might be hungrier than I thought,” she said a few minutes later when Dragon steered her toward the kitchens.
“You are in luck, because your husband’s chefs can bake some divine sweet bread.” Dragon pushed a swinging door open and stilled the panel for her to pass through.
The smell of fresh baked bread hit Mirella’s nostrils as soon as she entered the room.
Several servants were busy at work but stopped what they were doing and bowed.
“High Lord,” one of the servants said. He was carrying a tray filled with baked goodies and almost dropped everything to the floor when he bent.
“Good dawn, Lucio.” Dragon walked to the man and grabbed a golden pastry from the tray. “What’s cooking today?”
“Roasted boart—” Lucio started, but Dragon interrupted him.
“I love roasted boart.” The colossal Solarian patted the man’s back, which seemed to be his trademark move. “Our Blessed Bride is looking for something to eat.” He pointed at Mirella.
She had kept aside, unsure of how to proceed. Back at home, she had never been allowed in the servants’ quarters. Her mother didn’t think it was proper for a future Blessed Bride to mingle with the help. Not knowing what her husband’s policy was on the matter made her wary, but she was also fascinated by the kitchen’s scurry of activities. It was an unknown world to her, with the stainless steel ovens and stoves lining the walls, and the wooden working stations in the middle of the room.
“Blessed Bride—” Lucio’s eyes widened in surprise.
All of a sudden, the entire kitchen stilled. All hands stopped kneading dough, chopping vegetables, filleting meat, glazing tarts, coring applenuts, and washing dishes. All eyes zeroed on Mirella.
“Good morning, everyone.” She waved her hand.
All heads bowed low and low murmurs of, “Blessed Bride,” resonated through the room.
“Can our Blessed Bride have some breakfast?” Dragon asked, spurring everyone into a frenzy.
“Where should we serve our Blessed Bride?” Lucio asked, keeping his head low.
“Where do you want to eat?” the
dragon shifter asked her.
Mirella shrugged. “I’ve eaten in my apartments these last two days, but I’d like a change of scenery.”
“There’s a cozy nook overlooking the hanging gardens just outside the foyer.” Dragon pointed his chin in the general direction of the house’s entrance.
“It sounds perfect.” Mirella smiled at one of the kitchen staff who had dared a glance in her direction.
The boy blushed to the root of his already red hair and scampered away, tossing around a few of the potatoes he was carrying in a colander.
Dragon laughed. “You have quite the power over the mere mortals, my lady.”
Mirella didn’t know how to answer to such a compliment.
“It’s a good thing, you know?” The Solarian gave her a gentle smile.
Mirella thought that her so-called power didn’t mean anything to her when her husband preferred to spend time with his courtesan rather than being with her. He had probably summoned that horrible woman as soon as he had left Mirella’s chamber. He had seemed in a hurry. Her mind concocted images of Valentine and Ronda together, and they were ugly thoughts. A blade pierced her heart.
“Breakfast will be served in the nook as soon as possible,” Lucio said, bowing one last time and returning to his chores.
“I think they want us to leave, so they can work in peace,” Dragon whispered from behind his palm and winked.
Mirella nodded and followed him outside the kitchen. Dragon chatted amiably, but she barely heard a word he said. Her stomach hurt from holding her pain inside. A few minutes later, Dragon opened a room for her and she sat in the chair he pulled from under a round table.
“Your husband has a lovely property.” Dragon pointed at the large window framing the entire wall facing a verdant garden. The heavy curtains were drawn to the side, and the dust-screen had been raised, showing the landscape in its true colors.
Lobo Mansion was famous for its hanging gardens. It was rumored that Valentine’s father had them built for his favorite courtesan who preferred nature to walls and never spent a day inside the harem. Whatever the reason they had been added to the house, the terraces jutted from its frame, overlooking the plains from several meters above the ground. Uninterrupted by walls or parapets, the gardens meshed with the landscape, creating the illusion that the plants and the flowery bushes went on forever and met the horizon.
The Fifth Moon's Wolf (The Fifth Moon's Tales) Page 8