A nervous woman came skidding into the room with a folder clutched in her hands. “Lea. I have the invitations.”
Lea winced. “I will meet you in the front room, Ameline.”
Molly blinked. “Invitations?”
Ameline nodded violently. “For your wedding, miss. It is two weeks from Saturday.”
Lea sighed. “You blew my chance to look like a hero, Ameline.”
Deane was laughing and Damon had a satisfied smirk on his lips.
He announced, “Two weeks is doable.”
Molly smiled and he kissed her hand again.
“Ameline, join us for tea. You won’t do your blood sugar any good with all that fluttering around.” Deane waved her over.
Deane poured tea for all five of them, and Molly took the opportunity to eat some of the foods that she only ever prepared. Tiny Battenburg cakes, miniature Victoria sponges and sandwiches that were buttered on one side with a variety of fillings.
It was amazing that Damon partook of this predominantly feminine ritual with grace and masculine dignity. To see him interacting with his sister and aunt gave her insight into his upbringing and the love that was obvious between them as Deane challenged him to an arm wrestle for the last cream horn.
He surrendered it gracefully and his sister pounced on the pastry with enthusiasm.
Lea sighed. “They have been like that since they were children. Deane always puts out the challenge and Damon always gives in with style.”
Molly chuckled. “I hope that bodes well for my future.”
Damon gave her an amused look and used his longer reach to put the empty plates on the tray.
Lea went through the rest of the details, including the procurement of the gown. A dress was waiting for a final fitting based on information from the Crossroads. Who was informing on her was a mystery for Molly, but she couldn’t complain if it made her life easier.
She was going to have to trust that she was in their hands and they would take care of her.
Being in Damon’s hands was not going to be a problem.
Chapter Seven
He took her for a walk in the forest, and as soon as they had passed the line of sight for the expansive home, he pressed her against a tree, kissing her ravenously.
Molly held onto him and waited until he pulled away. He gasped and pressed his forehead to hers.
“I have been waiting to do that for hours.”
She laughed weakly and stroked his neck. “I can tell. Do I really need to invite my family?”
“You are going to ask that now? I am trying to be romantic.”
She snickered. “Pinning me up against a tree is romantic?”
“Look around the tree.”
Molly eased away from the bark and crept around the trunk of the tree. A trail of moss led between the trees and the hint that it was a trail came when she noted the small, white star-shaped flowers that led away from the tree and deeper into the woods.
“You really expect me to follow a strange trail of flowers through the woods without so much as a bag of breadcrumbs to mark my way back?”
“The flowers are your trail. I promise you won’t get lost.” He put his hands on her shoulders. “Come on, where is your sense of adventure?”
Ruefully, she said, “I spent it all at the Crossroads.”
“I am sure you can find a bit more.”
With him following close, she walked down the white pathway until it widened and spilled into an open meadow covered with every colour in the rainbow represented in floral blossoms.
“Oh. This is beautiful.”
Damon let out a relieved sigh. “I was hoping you would like it.”
She turned and kissed him quickly. “This isn’t natural. Who planted it?”
He gave her a sheepish smile. “My parents. Every year, my father gave my mother a different colour flower to seed here. She planted it and this was the result after thirty years. It now sows itself every year.”
Damon held her against him, and to her surprise, he lifted one of her hands and slowly began to waltz her into the flowers.
The scent of wildflowers filled the air as they moved around and around to music only Damon could hear. With the sun overhead and the riot of colour around her, it was a magical moment surrounded by the garden planted with love.
Molly smiled and pressed her head against his chest. So, perhaps romance ran in the family.
“Why does your Aunt Lea live with you?”
Damon chuckled. “Because her mate travels for work. He handed her off to me, and she acts as my social secretary. I am hoping that you are willing to take that on.”
She blinked. “I don’t know who is who. How would I know what you do and don’t want to take on?”
“That one is easy. You ask me. I tell you. Two-part conversation.”
Molly narrowed her eyes. “Would Lea train me?”
He twisted his lips. “She would train you to be the same kind of social secretary that she is. It might drive me nuts to have to take orders from you.”
She stroked her fingers down the centre of his chest, teasing the buttons aside one by one. “I might find a way of compensating you for the inconvenience.”
“Do tell.” He leaned down and kissed her again.
She unbuttoned his shirt and tugged it out of his jeans. He had stopped spinning them around, and she slid her hands up his chest, pushing the shirt off his shoulders. It took some tugging to get them over his wrists, but she wasn’t up to dealing with cuff buttons.
Steeling her nerve, she trailed her fingers down his chest; ridge after ridge passed under her fingers until she circled his navel and flattened her hand to skim under the waistband of his trousers.
He sucked his breath in, so she removed her hand and worked at the snap of his pants, lowering the zipper with extreme care.
She blinked at what she discovered. “When did you have time to put on underwear?”
“I am a quick change master. It comes with the Shifter Council gig.” He smiled.
She gave him a considering look. “Take off your shoes. This could get silly otherwise.”
He removed his shoes and folded his shirt neatly before returning to her.
“You are just trying to see what I am going to do.”
Damon glanced down at his obvious erection. “You have my undivided attention.”
She smiled at the tenting of the fabric and eased his boxer briefs off his hips. The body in front of her could have belonged to an ancient statue, if it wasn’t sporting a huge boner.
Molly looked at him from head to toe and took in all the details she had missed the first time. He had a scar over his left hip, a freckle to the right of his left nipple and there was a tiny tattoo inside his right bicep.
“What is that?”
“The mark of the Shifter Council. All councillor’s wear them for life.”
“Oh. So, how long will you be a councillor?” Carrying on the conversation like he wasn’t completely naked was rather fun.
He seemed at ease with his state in the great outdoors.
“Until I retire. Once selected, it is a lifelong appointment.” He paused. “Would you like me to turn around?”
She grinned. “Please.”
He slowly rotated with his arms out at his sides.
She noted the powerful set of his shoulders tapering down to a narrow waist and highlighting a pert butt.
“Very nice.”
He grinned, “So, is it your turn?”
Molly pretended ignorance. “My turn for what?”
“To get naked and roll in the wildflowers with me.”
She put her hands on the edge of her shirt and started to pull it over her head.
He stepped forward, “No, no. Let me.” He peeled her shirt upward, leaving her in her bra.
She held her breath as he skated his fingers along the waist of her jeans, mimicking her earlier teasing. When he unsnapped and unzipped her jeans, she kicked off her shoes without prompting. One shoe landed next to his, the other took off for parts unknown.
Damon laughed as he knelt to ease her jeans from her hips. He pressed his lips to her lower belly and licked gently.
She tried to giggle and gasp at the same time, and the noise came out a strangled gurgle.
He cupped her ass and pressed his lips to the vee of her thighs, exhaling hot air over her flesh. She shuddered and couldn’t even part her thighs because of the constriction of the denim around her ankles.
He licked at the fabric of her panties, and they dampened from more than simply his tongue. Damon eased the fabric off her hips and down to tangle with her denim.
Molly put her hands on his shoulders to stead herself as he stroked her knee and eased her out of nearly the last bit of clothing.
She shivered when he slowly rose to his feet, dragging his fingertips up her sides until they were chest to breast. With a light touch and a little bit of wrestling, the clasp of her bra gave way and it sprang loose. He caressed her shoulders slowly and eased the straps off and down until they were completely skin to skin.
To her surprise, he took her hand, put his other hand on her waist and slowly began to sway with her until they were dancing once again.
She felt her body stirring with every slight graze of his cock against her belly or his chest against her nipples. She had never been much of a dancer, but in his arms, she felt right, as if they had been designed to move together. It was a silly conceit, but she smiled anyway.
“Why are you smiling?”
“I have never been a good dancer.”
He chuckled. “We will practice like this as often as it takes.”
He spun her around, and she clung to him when he bent her back in a dip. When he didn’t lift her, she looked at him with a question in her mind; it was answered when she was eased back into the flowers and he followed.
He kissed her, and she pushed at his shoulders until he rolled over. Molly smiled down at Damon, and she slowly rubbed herself against him. He looked lovely with the riot of flowers haloing his head.
“You are so pretty.”
He blushed and she laughed.
Molly shifted her hips until he was lodged against her sex, and she slowly eased back until he was inside her.
Damon put his fingers to the flowers next to them and he dug fistfuls of the wild colour into his hands.
She flexed and moved back further until she felt full of him. Molly sat back and let gravity carry him the rest of the way inside her. Once she was sure that he could go no further, she pulled away and then slid back onto him. She braced her hands on his abdomen and rode him with slow flexes of her thighs and hips.
The cling and drag of her body against his, the tugging deep inside made her close her eyes and fling her head back. She groaned and moved on him, faster and faster with every breath.
She leaned back and rocked against him. She opened her eyes and watched the sweat that coated him roll and bead down his sides while he kept hold of the flowers.
While she kept her rhythm, she grabbed his hands and pressed them to the sides of her hips.
He took the hint and moved his hands over her hips as well as around to stroke her clit.
One hand stroked her clit and the other shifted from her left to right breast, kneading, stroking and spurring her arousal higher until she twisted against him and keened her pleasure to the sky.
She counted her pleasure in seconds before he gripped her hips and thrust upward into her until his own shout of enjoyment sent birds flying.
Panting, she rested her hands on his belly and sighed as her heart thundered back into its normal pace.
The scents of sex and sweat mingled with the crushed and mangled flowers around them. Molly grinned and leaned forward to kiss him sweetly.
Damon flinched when she moved on him, but he returned her kiss with interest, winding his hand through her hair and twisting until she was under him.
She smiled against his lips and wrapped one leg around his hips as he ran his hands over her in appreciation.
Molly nipped at his lip, and when he leaned back, she asked, “Can we go for a flight?”
He grinned and nuzzled her neck. “Yes, my beauty. We can go for a flight.”
“Then, this has just become the perfect day.”
He blushed again.
Chapter Eight
Wheeling in slow circles was a reflex, but moving through the air was a delight in itself.
Molly twisted in the air, doing barrel rolls and any number of unlikely manoeuvers for a wild bird. The freedom of not hiding her nature was sheer luxury.
Having Damon fly with her was an intoxicating event as well. They coasted along, daring to fly close to each other. Molly was delighted to find that they were of the same size. She flew over him, her claws brushing the feathers of his back, before she arced into a barrel roll and a sighting circle.
He flew after her and the chase was on.
She dove, twisted and finally stopped, dropping downward until she was less than fifteen feet from the ground before she opened her wings and landed, shifting to human as quickly as she could.
Damon was right behind her, and he lifted her in his arms before she could get more than a few steps.
She squealed and he laughed, spinning her around.
The sunlight had reddened and it was obvious that darkness was a few minutes away.
Damon sighed. “As much as I would like to stay out here, I think it is time to head in.”
Molly rested her head on his shoulder. “If you insist.”
He walked back to their clothing and set her down on the ground.
Sighing with resignation, Molly got up and got dressed. Everything was going well until it came time to find her shoes.
One shoe was easy, the other required a bit more of a search, and even with Damon helping, she was stuck. “I will come back tomorrow and look for it.”
He turned with his back toward her. “Hop on.”
“You are kidding.”
“I am not. Come on. It is dark and you will hurt yourself if you try to hike home in this. Hop on.”
He knelt, and she wandered forward, situating herself on his back before he rose to his feet. With her arms around his neck, she was piggybacked through the woods and back to the house that snuggled up against the hills but left plenty of room for the wide windows and balconies that would let in the night air.