The Fifth Moon's Wife (The Fifth Moon Tales Book 2)

by Monica La Porta

  His mouth descended, molding his lips against hers and softly pushing, demanding entrance. She still fought her senses in a vain attempt to prove to herself she was stronger, trying to remember all the reasons she should be. She would have won if Valentine had only owned her body, but the truth was that her husband was the master of her heart. And there was no denying love. Not even when she had so many compelling points against letting him kiss her. They were all but forgotten a heartbeat later.

  “Valentine,” she whispered into his mouth as she granted him access.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Four long days had passed already, and Valentine had had enough of waiting for Mirella.

  Respecting her request to be left alone had been hard. Day after day, he had hoped she would welcome him with a smile and open arms, but she had withdrawn from him. He couldn’t stay away from her though. At night, as he had done in the past, he would wait for Mirella to be deeply asleep, then he would spend a few hours by her side, kissing her nightmares away.

  Tired and unfulfilled, he would then go on with his day.

  Valentine busied himself with the ongoing investigation into the events that led to his duel with Dragon and to the recent sabotage of his vessel. As he had suspected, the incidents were related and much to his chagrin, the culpable were probably still working at Lobo Manor. But no new lead had been discovered, and his already frail patience had been reduced to nothing.

  And there was still the mystery of Mirella’s attack at the Public Market to solve. Still, the more sensible line of action was to wait for the traitor to make a misstep.

  More pressing matters worried him. Gabriel was due to depart in two days, and Valentine still had to talk to Mirella about her impending leave.

  So, it was with a turbulent state of mind that Valentine found himself striding through her apartments. He would not waste the little time they had left away from her.

  Sitting on the bay window bench in her parlor, Mirella looked pensive. Her auburn hair was illuminated by Coral’s pink rays that created a halo around her perfect oval face. Her porcelain skin was pale, and her green eyes were sad. She wore a dark-emerald gown with long kimono-sleeves and a low neckline he would have lowered still.

  Fighting his baser instincts, he talked, but his rehearsed speech didn’t have the desired result. He fought the urge to sweep her up and listened to her scathing retort instead. She angrily revealed that she already knew of his plans, and he was almost relieved because if she detested him his mission would be easier. But he couldn’t let her think he didn’t want her.

  Her defiant response stoked his burning need to end the conversation once and for all. Barely registering her words, he leaned forward and let his lips hover against hers. Almost touching.

  Her scent changed, matching his. Knowing she wanted him as badly as he wanted her, Valentine took her mouth. After the torture Mirella had forced him to endure for the last week, he felt like crying when she finally kissed him back.

  He had waited for that kiss to happen for so long, it hurt inside.

  “I’m going to miss you, kitten.”

  The words he should have never said out loud poured out of his heart as he uttered them against her soft lips.

  “Then why are you sending me to Celestia?” she asked, pushing him away. Her whole body bristled with untapped energy, spicing up her scent and making her irresistible.

  He pressed her back to him. “I have no other option.” Her sweet aroma overwhelmed his senses, and he was the one swaying now, dizzy from her proximity.

  Her eyebrow rose and her eyes became stormy. “You are Valentine Lobo, Eleventh Master of House Lobo. You can do whatever you want.”

  He was taken aback by her vehemence. “My power comes with great limitations.”

  “I don’t want to leave you,” she said, staring at him as she pressed her hands against his chest to free herself from his tight embrace.

  “Stop.” He took both her wrists in his hand, pulling her even closer.

  Her scent, her mouth, her softness, the fire now dancing in her eyes, everything about Mirella ensnared Valentine. It would only take a “yes” to grant her request. His strength dwindled. In a few minutes, he would not be able to deny her anything.

  His wolf howled in pain, charging against its mental cage. The beast’s cries were agonizing, but Valentine ignored them, focusing on Mirella’s needs.

  “No more talking.” He lost himself in her mouth then, kissing her to shush her.

  “No,” she angrily said, jerking her arms away. “I’m not done.”

  “Yes, you are.” Listening further would only confuse him more.

  Freeing her hands, he pressed his arm across her back, and the soft swell of her breasts pushed against his chest. The friction sent shivers all over his body.

  She struggled at first as if fighting her senses. But when his teeth grazed her collarbone, she arched her neck and molded against him. “Why can’t I say no to you?” she panted, then whimpered when he swirled his tongue on her earlobe.

  The air filled with sensual awareness as her body finally relaxed. He didn’t mark her, but nipped and licked her skin, satiating himself with her sweetness.

  His next kiss was full of frustrated longing and love. She responded to his passion with her own unbridled desire, stroking his tongue and biting his lips. Her hands roamed inside his jacket and over his shirt, bunching the fabric, and unhooking the fastenings at his throat.

  “Valentine,” she moaned.

  Again, his wolf pushed him over the edge, elevating his lust to new highs.

  Her delicate hand traveled low, stopping at his belt. One finger slipped beneath the rough fabric of his pants. With a guttural roar, he pushed against her touch.

  Completion was close. He only had to follow nature and the ache in his loins would be sated. After denying himself for so long, the feeling of Mirella’s warmth around him would be a dream finally come true.

  Her hand moved lower, but before it would close around him, Valentine stopped her. Her caresses would never suffice. Once he had a taste, his wolf would not let him stop. And he loved Mirella too much to endanger her.

  I love you, kitten.

  He was barely able to form the thought, but not ready to voice it yet. He had known for a while, and it was fear, pure and simple, that blinded him, but there would be no going back now that he had acknowledged the truth.

  “Would you grant me a last gift?” he asked, kissing the point of her nose.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “What gift could I ever give a man who has everything?” Mirella asked, barely able to think after his kisses.

  That was the power her husband had over her. One taste of his lips and she would forget all about meddling courtesans and looming departures. It wasn’t just a physical reaction. She knew, deep in her heart, that only a few people would ever experience the intensity of the passion she shared with Valentine.

  Like a powerful wind carries away the clouds occluding the sky, his nearness had banished her anger as easily. All the fight had left her at his first kiss. Afterwards, his words had incensed her and she tried to argue with him, to have a conversation, but she was putty in his arms.

  “Remember when I told you I wanted to take pictures of you?” Valentine’s hazel eyes shone brightly as he looked at her.

  She nodded, memories of their interlude in the library playing back for her.

  The night of the ball, he had shown her books depicting couples making love. The images were lifelike, not drawings like the ones in the manuals Mrs. Claretta had used to teach Mirella. What had made a long-lasting impression on Mirella was the raw wildness of the sexual acts portrayed. Some of the images had pushed her boundaries, making her realize she would have liked for Valentine to reenact with her some of the scenes.

  “Would you pose for me?” he asked, his voice low. “I need something of yours.”

  “Yes,” she answered, shivering in anticipation. Ropes, silk bindings,
and blindfolds came to her mind. His hands positioning her before him, stroking, kneading, spanking her.

  A loud knock on the door startled Mirella. She blinked the images away with a low moan.

  “Blessed Bride, I apologize for disturbing you, but Aldo is looking for Master Lobo,” Crea said from the hallway.

  Standing, Valentine swore, then passed a hand over his shirt to flatten the creases and tuck the hem into his pants. He reached for the voice-intercom on the wall. “Aldo?”

  His beautiful traits marred with worry as he listened to what his majordomo had to tell him. When he hung up, Mirella knew something had happened.

  “I need to take care of something,” he said, then laid a kiss on her lips and left.

  In his haste to retreat, he almost trampled Crea. The lady’s maid was waiting outside the parlor, holding a tray that went flying against the wall at the impact with Valentine’s shoulder. Valentine didn’t slow down as if he had not even noticed the girl.

  “I’m sorry—” Crea leaned to pick up the pieces of broken china from the floor.

  “It wasn’t your fault.” Mirella patted the girl’s arm, then followed Valentine into the hallway, but he had already disappeared around the corner. By the time she reached her apartments’ foyer, he was running at full speed toward the stairwell. She didn’t waste time calling him, because he was too far ahead.

  She lost him several times, but the servants guided her to the manor’s back entrance, and from there to the animal barns. A crowd milled around the draglets’ stables, and she headed in that direction. The commotion of people and scared animals filled the air with dust.

  “How’s that even possible?” Valentine’s booming voice silenced everyone.

  Mirella walked toward the throng, and as the caretakers and the guards recognized her, a gap opened to let her pass.

  “Someone opened the corrals and let the draglets out,” a man answered Valentine’s question.

  Valentine saw Mirella and signaled for her to come closer.

  “I don’t understand how that could happen either,” the man continued, his hands folding and unfolding a soft bucket hat. “After Dallian’s accident, I made sure the animal barn was surveilled day and night—” His eyes darted toward the corrals attached to the main building. “I left for a moment. I swear I wasn’t away for more than five minutes.”

  Valentine passed his hand over his head. “I believe you, Anton.”

  “Half of the herd is gone.” The man was on the verge of crying. “And Carinne is due any day now. First births can be dangerous.”

  Valentine swore.

  “Dallian?” Mirella asked.

  “Master Lobo’s stallion is okay. I moved him to a separate enclosure after the attack,” the man answered, then he addressed Valentine once again, “I’ll organize the recovery team immediately.”

  Valentine patted the man’s shoulder, then he sent the rest of the workers back to their stations. “You, sweep the whole area around the animal barns and get back to me,” he said to the guards. “Look for anything out of place, and if you find even a scrap of fabric that doesn’t belong, bring it back to me at once.”

  The uniformed men wearing the black and crimson sigil of House Lobo on their black jackets bowed before Valentine and left.

  “You should’ve stayed behind,” Valentine said to Mirella, but his tone was gentle, and he accompanied his words with a caress on her cheek. “Come. Let’s pay Dallian a visit.” He took her under his arm and walked toward the barn’s main entrance.

  A wild scent lingered in the air, but it wasn’t as unpleasant as Mirella had expected it to be. The wooden building’s ceiling was timbered and several stories high. Several large windows let the sunrays in, illuminating the stalls where a few small draglets rooted around.

  “All the noises and the different scents have scared the babies,” Valentine explained as they walked through the central aisle. “Fortunately, the nursing mothers weren’t outside.” He pointed at a large pen where a group of five draglets reclined on their sides, feeding their offspring.

  One at a time, the little draglets suckled from their mothers, making cute cooing sounds mixed with loud slurping, while their gossamer wings tangled under their chubby bodies.

  “They are so cute,” Mirella commented.

  One of the babies heard her and tilted its feathered head to the side, clicking its beak.

  Valentine smiled, then pressed his hand against the small of Mirella’s back, gently guiding her to the far corner. “Dallian is there.”

  Under an arched window opening into the pastures behind, there was the largest pen yet, and it contained only one draglet. Bigger than the females they had just passed, Dallian stood on its haunches, scanning the perimeter of its domain with iridescent, circular eyes. Black like the darkest of nights, the draglet lowered its head when Valentine approached the gate.

  “Good Dallian,” Valentine said, entering the pen and walking straight to the draglet that lay flat on its belly for him. “Would you like to pet it?” He passed his hand through the glossy feathers.

  Dallian purred, its downy head rising to meet Valentine’s long strokes.

  “Yes, I’d love to.” Mirella entered the pen and the wings the draglet kept close to its long body bristled in annoyance.

  “She’s my mate,” Valentine said in a soothing voice to the draglet. “She only wants to caress you.”

  His explanation achieved the desired effect because Dallian relaxed its wings and let Mirella come closer.

  “Just follow the feathers’ direction. Dallian likes to be petted.” Valentine showed her how to do it, then placed her hand over the draglet’s round head.

  “It’s so soft and fluffy,” Mirella mused. She passed her fingers through the feathers, careful to follow Valentine’s instructions.

  At first, Dallian tensed under her touch, but soon started to push back against her hand, seeking her caresses with low purrs and slow tail wagging. In its motion, the long, fan-shaped and flat tail cleared the ground from the straws, rising dust all over the pen.

  Mirella coughed, but kept her hand on the beast’s head, enjoying its warmth. “I can feel its contentment.”

  “Sometimes, I wish I were born a draglet. Simple pleasures and the freedom to fly away when life gets unpleasant,” Valentine commented, echoing one of Mirella’s recurring wishes.

  Speechless, she looked at her husband, wondering why a man of his social status and power would ever desire freedom.

  “I know we have a conversation pending, but I promised you a flight.” Valentine smiled at her, his hand finding hers on top of Dallian’s head. “Do you still want to ride a draglet?”

  “Of course!” Mirella answered.

  Dallian reacted to Mirella’s enthusiasm by pressing its flat nose to her belly, then its nostrils flared as if it had caught a scent. Soon after, the draglet made a cooing sound and brought its wings forward, enveloping Mirella in a sheer cocoon.

  At the same time, Valentine’s eyebrows furrowed, but when Mirella gave him a puzzled look he shook his head and said, “Nothing.” He then patted Dallian on its back. “Release my mate, big boy.”

  Dallian complied, but gave Mirella’s belly a soft nudge before opening its wings.

  “Let me help you.” Valentine took her by her waist and propped her up on Dallian’s ridge. “Grab the spurs firmly,” he instructed her, pointing at the crests circling the base of its neck.

  She leaned forward and took hold of two of the bone protuberances, expecting a reaction from the beast, but Dallian purred and cooed in response.

  “Well, that’s unusual.” Valentine opened the gate wide, then led Dallian outside. “The short stroll will give you enough time to get accustomed to riding on its back.”

  “Is Dallian always so docile?” Mirella freed one hand to give the draglet a good rub, which was accepted with more cooing and purring.

  “It’s being nicer than usual. My stallion likes you.” Valentine ke
pt guiding Dallian toward the strip in the back of the barn. That section of the animal compound was kept free for take offs and landings, and it stretched for a few kilometers into the Great Plains.

  The beast’s short legs tramped the straws with a rickety gait, swaying Mirella, but she soon adjusted to the undulating motion and sat straighter, enjoying the adventure already.

  “How do you feel?” Valentine had stopped Dallian at the beginning of the strip.

  “Ready to fly.” Mirella closed her eyes and inhaled the fresh scent of cut grass and the bouquet of wild sage carried by a playful breeze.

  Valentine mounted behind Mirella. “As you wish,” he said, leaning forward to kiss the skin beneath her ear. He draped one arm around her waist and stretched his other arm to get hold of the spur next to the one she was grabbing. “Go.” With a gentle pressure of his legs against the beast’s flanks, Valentine encouraged it to take off.

  Dallian obeyed Valentine’s command, lowering its head, then gaining speed on its legs as it ran and opened its wings at the same time.

  The wind billowed the sheer wings into sails that thrust Dallian’s body higher, until it was flying several meters above the ground. Using its flat tail like a helm, the draglet stabilized its course and ascended over the thermals.

  “This is nothing like flying an airbike,” Mirella said.

  “As much as I love my Desert Fire, this is much more fun.” Valentine rested his face on her shoulder, his hand slowly massaging her belly.

  “It’s like riding a warm, soft cloud of fuzziness.” She leaned her cheek against his.

  His stubble tickled her skin, and she thought she would miss that. Sadness engulfed her for a moment.

  Dallian cried.

  Valentine swore. “What the—”

  “What is it?” Mirella turned slightly toward him.

  “It seems that Dallian and my wolf are having a conversation,” he answered.