Page 3 of Dominating the Dryad (Halloween Temptation #13)

Especially when Tristan tightens his hold around Peri’s hand and reins him in. “You’re beautiful,” he whispers, cupping one of Peri’s cheeks. And then he leans in and presses their lips together—effectively stealing Peri’s first ever kiss.

It’s much warmer and wetter than he expected it to be.

Especially when Tristan’s tongue makes its way into his mouth.

Peri can do nothing but curl his hands into the fabric of Tristan’s shirt and hold on for dear life.

He tries his best to keep up and catch on to what he’s supposed to do, and takes it as a win when Tristan quietly moans into the kiss.

They’re standing so close to each other, clinging on so tightly, that the world seems to consist of only them. The kiss is so lovely, and so soft, that Peri never wants it to stop.

“What the fuck are you doing, Tristan?”

Flinching, Peri rips their lips apart and takes several steps back towards the treeline. A small group of people is gathered on the porch, and Peri recognizes a couple of them as being Tristan’s friends. Most of them are snickering.

“Yeah, come on, we need you for beer pong,” another man shouts.

“Leave the little loser and come. Grant’s making hot shots.”

The words cut like a knife. They’re not necessarily horrible, but they sure cement everything Peri’s ever heard about how mean humans can be. Ruthless and cold towards others—only caring for themselves. His breath hitches and his eyes brim with unshed tears.

He expects Tristan to go to his friends. He expects to be abandoned and forced to go home alone. But instead, Tristan turns to him and closes the distance between them. He grabs hold of Peri and moves him to hide him fully behind his back—creating a barrier between Peri and the mean humans.

“Shut the fuck up, Ian,” Tristan says, anger lacing his voice. “Go back inside and leave us alone. You fucking assholes.”

“Damn, Tristan, why so sensitive?” The leader of the pack—Ian, apparently—says. “Is he letting you get some, or what? Are you really so desperate to get your dick wet?”

Heat rises on Peri’s cheeks. They’re talking about sex. Leaning forward, he buries his face in Tristan’s back. The fabric of his loose shirt is soft and a perfect place to hide. Sure, he’s heard his friends talk crudely about what happens in the bedroom before, but now, images explode in his mind.

Of him and Tristan tangled up on his bed in his cottage. And it makes him want it, even though he never has before.

“Fuck off.” Tristan brings his hands back and around Peri’s body, pulling him closer to his body. “Or you know what, we’re leaving. I’m done with this shit. I don’t even know why I hang out with you, dickheads.”

Tristan tightens his arms around Peri quickly at once, before stepping away to grab his coat. Exposed, Peri feels the stares of the astounded group of people burn into his skin. He brings his arms around his body, trying to protect himself from the scrutiny.

“Come on, Peri. We’re leaving,” Tristan says, already walking back towards him, offering his hand up again.

“Okay.”

Tristan pulls him away from the scrutinizing eyes of the group of men and around the house towards the front, stopping half-way when they’re out-of-sight. “Are you okay?” He says. “Don’t listen to them. They’re not my friends. At least not anymore. "

“Yeah, it’s . . . I’m—”

“Come here,” Tristan interrupts, pulling him in towards his broad chest. “I’m so sorry, okay? I get it if you just want me to leave, but I would like to at least make sure you get home safely. Would you let me? I don’t want you to end up in a ditch, or hurt.”

Now, what Peri says next is not smart. He absolutely should not say it.

If anyone in his community were to find out about it, Peri would be exiled—never again be allowed to meet his family, his friends, or any other dryad again.

But he wants, and he craves, and he’s never wanted anything as much as he wants Tristan in his home.

“Okay. But you can stay too. I have some new teas I want to try. Or some pie? I have some apple-pie, I think.”

Peri feels how Tristan relaxes around him. A long exhale puffs against the side of his head, and Peri himself melts further into Tristan’s chest. “That sounds nice,” Tristan says, leaning away slightly so he can look down at Peri. “Are you sure, though?”

Nodding, Peri trails his hand down and grabs hold of Tristan’s hand. He’s ready to head home. “Let’s go,” he says, pulling Tristan to the forest trail leading to his cottage. And Tristan lets him.

“Your ears must be itchy by now,” Tristan says, removing the handkerchief he had tied around his head. “You can take them off, if you want. We’ve left the party.”

“What?” Peri scratches at his ear subconsciously. “Do you truly not know what I am?” Maybe he’s overestimated the knowledge of humans.

Tristan looks at him again, that confused crease reappearing between his brows. “What do you mean?”

“Tristan,” Peri says, turning fully towards him and grabbing hold of both his hands—once again realizing just how much bigger the other is.

“I’m going to be very clear—though I shouldn’t be saying this, and I hope I can trust you—I am not human.

I’m a dryad. A being of the woods. Forest spirit.

Fairy. Elf. Whatever your stories tells you we’re called. ”

“Oh.”

It takes only a minute for Peri to convince Tristan that he actually lives in a cottage in the middle of the forest and is not going to murder him. Peri doesn’t quite understand why that’s the first thing Tristan suspects, but soon enough, they are surrounded by trees, heading home.