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 having 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 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 after and then eating lunch back in the cave. Replete, he laid back, 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 you’d never be hurt, never have to wonder if your partner is cheating on you or using you for your 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.
Because he was afraid of what he would see them doing?
Misty pulled her hand away from his. “That’s not a good joke,” she said shakily.
He reached up to thread his fingers through her hair. “It wasn’t one.” This time, he heard leaves rustling, the slice of claws in the air as if Domenico had momentarily shifted, creating tension in the air.
And then the tension was gone, and Lysander his time with Misty was about to end. He smiled up at Misty, asking in a teasing voice, “Do you think your prince will get mad once he finds out about this?”
She smiled back at him uncertainly, protesting more out of habit this time. “He’s not my prince.”
A voice that was not Lysander’s answered quietly, “Is that so?”
Chapter Eight
Domenico Moretti stood at the entrance of the cave, dressed in just a plain round-collared shirt and jeans, and yet – he had never seemed so beautiful and
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 having 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 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 after and then eating lunch back in the cave. Replete, he laid back, 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 you’d never be hurt, never have to wonder if your partner is cheating on you or using you for your 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.
Because he was afraid of what he would see them doing?
Misty pulled her hand away from his. “That’s not a good joke,” she said shakily.
He reached up to thread his fingers through her hair. “It wasn’t one.” This time, he heard leaves rustling, the slice of claws in the air as if Domenico had momentarily shifted, creating tension in the air.
And then the tension was gone, and Lysander his time with Misty was about to end. He smiled up at Misty, asking in a teasing voice, “Do you think your prince will get mad once he finds out about this?”
She smiled back at him uncertainly, protesting more out of habit this time. “He’s not my prince.”
A voice that was not Lysander’s answered quietly, “Is that so?”
Chapter Eight
Domenico Moretti stood at the entrance of the cave, dressed in just a plain round-collared shirt and jeans, and yet – he had never seemed so beautiful and
Similar Books
