Page 40 of Christa's Obsession

The house was rotting away from neglect. “Potential? What do you mean?”

“With a little bit of love and a big dose of magic, we can return the house to its original state. We could also move the house closer to your trees, like Silas’s. Or leave it where it is,” Christa rushed on to say, most definitely picking up Wanda’s dislike of the house encroaching on her trees.

What if Christa chose the house over their trees? “Do you want to live in the house?” Wanda had never lived in one before and she wasn’t sure she wanted to, even for Christa. She wasn’t like Silas.

You must not be selfish, beloved.

I don’t want to be.

Then wait for Christa to explain.

“I love our trees,”—she cast her arm up—“and being this close to them.”

Wanda knew Christa spoke the truth, and it eased the knots of tension gathering in her stomach. However, she sensed the ‘but’, even though Christa said nothing more. “Yet, you would like some aspects of living in a house?”

She watched Christa closely, seeing a moment of indecision before she nodded. “I would love a proper bathroom. Hot water to soak in. Scented bubbles. I love the lake, but nothing beats a hot bath to ease one's soul.”

It was not what Wanda expected, and a giggle escaped at the answer. “A bathroom. Is that it?”

Christa pressed her lips softly against Wanda’s. “Yes. I have everything else here with you. If we had the house repaired, then family and friends, whom you rightly pointed out I’d want to see, could come to the house, keeping our trees just for us.”

The surrounding rustling suggested the trees approved of this idea, too.

Christa grinned. “It looks like our girls approve. So what do you say, my love?”

“I’ve never had a bubble bath.”

Christa’s laughter shook her body as she brought Wanda closer, their naked skin sliding against each other, the residual oil making Wanda tingle between her thighs. “Then that will be the first thing we do once the king has protected the forest for us and the house is restored.”

Not having forgotten about the visit, Wanda had worked not to dwell on it with so much else to think about. Left with no choice now, she sighed heavily.

“When will he arrive?” She wanted what he offered, she just wasn’t sure what to expect. What to imagine he would be like. He wanted to meet her, but she wasn’t sure if the meeting would include Christa.

“Later this morning. I will know when he decides to come.” Christa claimed her mouth in a soul searing kiss that left her wanting more. They rolled on the bed of soft leaves until Wanda lay beneath Christa, limbs entangled, mouths never parting. Wrapped in each other's arms as they were left Wanda unable to think when all she could do was feel. Feel the love Christa gave willingly. The love of her warrior.

“Yes, my love. A warrior for you, always.”

Her dress was simple. Peach with cream trim around the arms and across the bodice, that she tugged at it, looking down at the hint of exposed cleavage. Wanda wondered if it was too revealing. She didn’t have any other that differed in style. She huffed out a breath, glancing at her bare feet which peeped out from the bottom of the hem of her dress. Should she have shoes on?

“You look beautiful,” said Christa, as she returned to their trees. She had gone outside minutes ago to make sure they were ready for the king. Ready how, Wanda had no clue. She stood at the entrance of their nook, looking stunning in a forest green silk dress and black, six-inch heels, in her demon form.

There was Wanda’s warrior. Red skin gleamed in the sunlight, as did the silver tips of her horns. Inky black hair flowed over her breasts, reaching her waist.

Christa, in either form, was clearly biased. “Should I put on shoes?”

She squeaked aloud as Christa plucked her out of the tree and kissed her. They had not long bathed and eaten after Christa had kept her occupied using her very talented mouth and hands. “You are perfect as you are.”

“It seems you are as smitten as your brother,” rumbled a deep, menacing voice behind them.

Wanda’s heart slammed against her chest, fear prickling her skin at the sound as she forced herself to glance over her shoulder. The air caught in her throat at the huge demon wearing an expression that chilled Wanda. The attire was more casual than Wanda expected of a king. Dark trousers and shirt covered a massive chest, bulging muscles and powerful thighs.

Wanda gulped in fright. Christa was tall, even in heels, but the king towered over them by at least another foot-and-a-half.

Christa didn’t seem intimidated as she lowered Wanda to the forest floor, thankfully keeping her right next to her side. “She is my blissful one. My beloved.”

The king turned his attention to Wanda as he stepped closer, moving silently. His thick, black brows drew together, his full lips pursing. “You are… such a small thing.”

The trees behind her stroked down her back, giving her courage. “I’m a dryad. None of our kind are big.”

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