by Kiersten Fay
“Looking back, I realize there was nowhere for her to go. She relied on my father financially. Our grandfather was a prick, too. I’m pretty sure she suffered from abuse all her life. People like that have a hard time breaking away from the cycle of abuse because they don’t see it the same way an outsider might. Live with something long enough and it becomes a normal way of life. I don’t hate her for that. I just feel sorry she couldn’t imagine a better life for herself.”
Tristan wiped a stray tear from her cheek. “I’m sorry for what you had to do, but…”
She cringed under the weight of that but.
“I’m proud you had the strength and courage to do it.”
She blinked up at him. Of everything he could have said, she hadn’t expected that. “You haven’t heard the rest.”
His brows arched.
“When the police came, my mother took the blame. She went to jail, Jordan went to the hospital, and I was placed in temporary foster care. My guardians let me visit her, though, and I promised her I’d come up with the money for a good attorney. She didn’t know, but I was actually going to confess once I knew Jordan would be all right. But the case never came to trial. A week before Jordan got out of the hospital, she committed suicide.”
“Fuck. June, I’m so sorr—”
She placed her fingers over his mouth. “I’m not done.” Her voice quavered. Have to get through this. “Jordan got better physically, but mentally…I don’t know…he was different. I don’t think his brain was the same afterward. We bounced around foster care for a year, but Jordan was developing behavioral problems that none of our guardians could deal will. Finally, at seventeen, I went through the emancipation processes, meaning I could live as an adult and be a guardian for my brother so we could stay together. I did my best to take care of him, be a mom for him. I did all right for a while. I worked two jobs to keep a roof over our heads, but he started doing drugs and dropped out of school…”
She took a breath as fat tears spilled down her cheeks. “I was so busy, I didn’t see how bad it was. I didn’t know until they found his body in an alley. He had overdosed on heroin.” She couldn’t stop a sob from clawing through her throat. Tristan wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his embrace. “I killed my whole family!” she wailed.
“No,” he cooed. “No. You were a child, forced to grow up faster than you should have. Your mother made her own choices, and for that matter, so did your brother. You can’t hold yourself responsible for their choices.”
“I was supposed to take care of him.”
“You can’t blame yourself. You did the best you could, even if you couldn’t save him in the end…” Tristan scrubbed his hand down his face. “Just like I couldn’t save my father in the end.”
Wiping her tears away, she sat up and faced him. “I knew you were blaming yourself for that.”
He nodded. “Undoubtedly. We have both been hard on ourselves over circumstances that were out of our control. Did you believe I would think differently of you when you told me this?”
She shrugged and lowered her gaze.
“I only admire you more now.”
Her eyes flashed open.
“You went through something traumatic and tragic, but instead of letting it crush you, you used your experiences to help others going through similar situations. You’re not only brave, strong, and dedicated, you’re resilient. I could not want you more.”
June wiped away one last tear. “Really?”
“I have a question, though.”
June waited, curious.
“You said you were sorry your mother couldn’t imagine a better life for herself, but can you?”
June pursed her lips and fidgeted with the fine fabric of her dress.
“If you don’t return my feelings, I will accept your rejection, but nothing short of that will deter me from doing everything in my power to make you mine. So tell me now. Do you love me or not?”
Her heart stuttered, then sped up with the sensation of a thousand hummingbirds flapping at once. The rush of buoyancy floundered as the weight of uncertainty pressed down on her. “I’m not sure I even know what love is,” she admitted.
He sat up and brushed his lips against hers. “Then I will show you.”
21
June was undone by the tenderness with which Tristan gathered her in his arms and carrying her to the bathroom, where he set her on her feet. Next he unzipped her bodice and helped her to step out of the garment. Then he discarded his own clothes before tapping a few buttons in the shower stall. Warm water drizzled from the ceiling. He guided her under it before joining her.
When they were both drenched, he squirted a dollop of shampoo into his hand, then leaned down to plant a soft kiss on her lips before stepping behind her and lathering her hair. The sensation of his fingers on her scalp was divine. She eased her eyes closed until he was done rinsing the shampoo. Then he surprised her by swiping her hair aside and planted a succession of soft kisses on her neck.
He was showing her he loved her, and it was breaking her heart. Could she ever truly allow herself to love him in return? Could she ever trust him with her heart? Sure, he wanted her now, but what would happen when her novelty wore off? Would he cast her aside for the lovely Leanora? Or some other great beauty with the power to transform into a dragon. Someone who could take flight with him and share the thrill of racing through the clouds on a sunset evening.
If his love was true, what would happen when she grew old while he remained young? The span of her life would only be a blip in his world. Would he still love her when she was gray and weary? Would it kill him when he lost her?
Fearing the answer, she whirled around and pulled him down for a fierce kiss. A kiss that would drown her thoughts and doubt from her mind. Unaware of the turmoil inside her, Tristan responded, once more growing aroused. With their bodies pressed tight, she could feel him stiffening against her lower belly. Her body responded with slick heat.
He gripped her backside with both hands and gave a squeeze. The pressure sent a zing of pleasure up her spine. Not breaking the kiss, he maneuvered her against the wall, then slid one hand down her thigh, gripped the back of her knee, and hooked her leg around his waist, wedging his cock against her entrance. As his tongue flicked out to meet hers, he plunged inside her with one hard thrust that had her crying out.
“Mmm!” she whimpered against his mouth.
He groaned, “I canna get enough of you,” his thrusts quickened as his body moved in a primal way that had them both breathing heavier, flying higher, the friction sparking molten pleasure and drowning her thoughts in heat. “Unh! I will never get enough!”
He gripped her ass once more, lifted her up on her toes, and slammed her down on him, drawing desperate groans from them both. As his vigorous thrusts grew urgent, she wrapped her hand around his neck and held on as he led them both toward a violent release. Harder and faster, his muscles toiled. She urged him on with her cries, her nails in his skin, the rolling of her hips in tune with his.
Trapped in the fog of lust, she buried her face in the crook of his neck and lightly bit down. Like a wild thing, he threw his head back and bellowed as his cock seemed to grow hard as steel, driving into her over and over until….
“Ahh!” she screamed as yet another orgasm ripped through her.
Just when she felt his hot seed pour into her, he snatched her close for a hot, possessive kiss. Against her lips, he snarled, “Mine.”
“Oh God!” Her orgasm seemed to last forever. Searing her. Shattering her….
When the erotic fog slowly began to lift and they caught their breaths, he cupped his hand around her neck and put their foreheads together. His breath fanned across her face. The moment was so pure, so intimate, that she thought if there was anyone in the world she could love, it was Tristan Okora, a dragon shifting king from another world.
After they finished washing up, Tristan guided her to a corner of the bathroom that housed
a kind of stall. With the flick of a button, a strange, almost electrical current surrounded them and suddenly they were dry.
“Amazing! Is this magic?”
He shook his head. “Quantum ionic dryer.”
“That’s a trillion-dollar idea right there.” June plucked her gown off the bathroom floor and returned to the bedroom, still high from her many mind-altering orgasms. “It’s too bad I don’t have something else to wear. This poor thing has seen some miles.”
“What about your other gowns?” he asked, following her into the room as he zipped up his pants.
She snorted. “Did you forget who you’re talking to? I’ve been borrowing your mother’s hand-me-downs. And seriously, I never imagined a hand-me-down could be worth more than my car.”
“Have you no’ been fitted for new clothes? It should have been done hours ago.”
“Well, yes, but I doubt they’d had time to—”
He crossed to open a door, revealing a huge walk-in closet with rows and rows of gowns organized by color. In the very center of the room was a four-sided dresser filled with undergarments, lingerie, blouses, and pants. Anything she could want. The closet must have been set up while they were out on their picnic.
“I didn’t know they would do all this!” she exclaimed. “I told them I didn’t need much. I swear!”
Tristan poked his head in and glanced around. “Heh. I have no doubt this is my mother’s doing. She’ll be your constant stylist.”
Stunned, June picked out a simple blue gown with a sweetheart neckline while Tristan finished dressing. When he saw her in it, he snatched her close and took her lips with his. “Stunning,” he muttered.
She gave him a look when she felt him grow stiff once again.
He offered a crooked smile. “Like I said, I am always hungry for you.”
It didn’t occur to her until they entered the living room how it would look; both of them freshly showered, her in a new gown. She blushed, even as she met the laser-hard gaze of Leanora, sitting stiffly on the couch, arms crossed tightly over her chest. Indignation marred her pretty features.
Why is she still here?
Belinda, too, appeared disdainful from her station near the balcony door.
“June, dearling,” said Edel, who had migrated to the opposite couch from Leanora with a slumbering Thaddeus. “I simply knew that color would look marvelous with your skin tone.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.”
Tristan came to stand beside her. She blinked down at the shocking warmth of his fingers threading between hers. “Lady Leanora, I’m surprised you’re still here, but I guess it’s good you are because I have an announcement you should hear. I’ve asked June to marry me.”
All of their jaws dropped, even June’s. She hadn’t expected him to just blurt it out like that.
“I only await her response.” He smiled down at her.
Belinda looked a little green.
Leanora shot out of her seat. “Are you mental?” In turn, she settled an incredulous gaze on each of them before coming back to Tristan. “She’s a commoner.”
“There is no law in my kingdom that states a commoner must no’ marry royalty.”
“She’s a foreigner.”
“Again, there is no law—”
“Edel, you must have objections.”
“If I do, dear, they will be discussed between my son and I privately.”
June tensed and she thought Tristan might have too. Edel continued, “Lady Leanora, I believe it would be best if you returned to your bedchamber now.”
Leanora’s angry expression fell and was replaced by one of such hurt that June actually felt a spark of unwanted pity for her. She wondered if Leanora had ever been rejected before.
As quickly as it had disappeared, the anger was back, and she huffed out of the room without another word.
Belinda looked as though she wanted to follow her, but she didn’t. Instead, she challenged, “Is this wise, sire?”
“Only if June accepts my proposal,” he countered.
“I don’t know what’s more shocking,” Edel inserted. “That you proposed or that she is keeping you in suspense.”
They all looked at June expectantly, and she suddenly felt like her tongue had been tied in knots. “I…I…”
“Now, now,” said Edel, regally rising from the sofa. “Don’t let me rush your decision. I just find it ironically satisfying is all. Take your time. It’s good to make them wait.” She winked, shocking the hell out of June. Then she shot Tristan a censuring look. “And, I might add, it’s always a good idea to try for a little discretion and decorum when dealing with the feelings of others.”
Tristan scrubbed a hand down the back of his neck. “To be fair, June did ask Leanora to leave. If anything that occurred after that upset her, it’s her own fault.”
“The poor dear is probably crying her eyes out.”
“I doubt that,” he said with a chuckle, but then he grew serious. “I will speak with her and Gideon tomorrow and give my apologies.”
With that, Edel inclined her head and headed for the door. Belinda followed, giving June a bit of stink-eye as she passed.
When they were alone, Tristan gazed down at her warily. “How are you? Should I not have announced it like that?”
“You could have given me a little warning first.”
Again, he scrubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry. I guess I was a little too excited.”
She couldn’t help but smile at that. “Well, lucky for you, that is a very good thing.”
“Does that mean you have an answer for me?” he prodded.
She went on her toes to lay a soft kiss on his lips. “Like your mother said, it’s good to make you wait.”
He gave a cocky grin as though he had no doubt of her answer. Then his eyes turned molten as he gazed down at her. “As long as you stay with me, I’ll wait forever.”
Ka-plow. There went her heart.
He might as well have just snatched it right out of her chest and claimed it as his own.
22
Over the next several weeks, June became acquainted with royal life. Since Tristan insisted on moving her into his chambers, discretion and decorum were next to impossible and rumor quickly spread of the king’s foreign mistress. At first, she only knew this because Orik and a few other castle employees reported to Tristan whatever might be of concern to the crown. Then one day Tristan had taken her on a carriage tour of the kingdom. They’d passed quaint cottages, bustling markets, and impressive estates that resembled the stylish English country mansions back on Earth. The kind inhabited by dukes and earls. It was all very lovely, but whenever they came to a crowded area, people paused to gawk at her and whisper to each other.
June wasn’t used to standing out in a crowd, and the attention was uncomfortable. But it wasn’t insufferable. It was like wearing a pair of pants that were a size too small. She could deal with it for a time, as long as the promise of peeling them off at the end of the day was there. Especially if Tristan was the one doing the peeling.
He spent every evening with her, showing her how much he loved her. Making her putty in his hands and nearly pulling an answer out if her—the answer he wanted.
Would she marry him? Should she?
So much of her wanted to. So much of her wanted to believe in this fairytale life that was being offered to her, but she was apprehensive about something and she couldn’t put her finger on it. Tristan had asked her if she could imagine a better life for herself. Maybe she couldn’t. Maybe some part of her simply felt she didn’t deserve it.
But hadn’t her mother deserved better?
Didn’t Thaddeus and his mother?
The scoundrel who’d harmed them had been sentenced to death. At first, even June thought that was extreme, but then a more thorough examination of Thaddeus and his mother, the evidence of scars and blunt force trauma up and down their bodies, made her want to end his life with her bare hands. Anyone who could d
o that to their loved ones did not belong with the living.
Anyone who could do that to their loved ones was a monster in disguise.
Would Thaddeus and his mother’s scars heal better than hers? Would they learn to trust again? To trust in love? To trust in family?
Perhaps.
Only time would tell. And they had a lot to spare. More than June did. They would have a very, very long life to heal.
Already June’s life was a third of the way over….
She tried not to think about that, to block out the concern, but it was always there, in the back of her mind, planted there like a weed, roots so deep there was no hope of digging them out. Bottom line was her lifespan was laughable compared to Tristan’s. If people gawked and whispered about her now, what would they think of the old lady next to their still young and virile king?
Whenever her stomach twisted at the thought, she’d have to make some excuse to Tristan, because he always noticed her discomfort, as if he was growing more in tune with her each day. He’d even taken to picking out her thoughts as if she’d spoken aloud. For example, when they’d toured the kingdom and come upon a particularly beautiful patch of grassland, she’d been remembering their picnic when he had leaned over to murmur in her ear that they would have to return to their meadow soon. That had sent a shiver along her skin and shifted her thoughts to other things than her pesky mortality.
Nights with Tristan were sinfully sublime. She almost wanted to pinch herself just to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. It could very well be that this was just a very vivid, very elaborate dream, and once she woke up, she’d forget it all before her morning coffee. Whenever she thought this, Tristan would do something so mundane, so ordinary, inadvertently reminding her just how real he was. Like right now. He was snoring.
