Of course that fairy-tale life hadn’t lasted long. It had all fallen apart on the night of Jazz’s sixteenth birthday. Drake had insisted that the court throw Jasmine an elegant birthday celebration.
A few hours into the bash, Jazz and Damien had sneaked away for some private time and not long after, all hell broke loose. Apparently not all of the Faction supported Drake’s rule and rebels were spread throughout not only his court, but also his staff of servants.
Damien had ushered Jazz into a dark corner on the balcony overlooking the lush gardens and guarded her with his own body when the fight spilled out toward them. Drake had killed his attacker and upon hearing Jazz’s gasp of shock, turned angry eyes on them. He’d instantly ordered the guards to apprehend her.
He was convinced Jazz’s father had betrayed him and refused to have his own son swayed by the siren of such a traitor.
They hadn’t parted ways voluntarily; Damien fought fang and claw to keep Jasmine in his arms. Known for his quick temper and even deadlier fighting skills, he’d managed to hold the soldiers off a while.
But in the end, the powerful warriors managed to wrench her away. Her parents had died in the skirmish, so Sera had whisked Jazz away to her family’s personal oasis in exotic Montego Bay and she’d remained here ever since.
She hadn’t dated, hadn’t wanted to. Jazz and Damien hadn’t seen each other since that summer - well over a hundred years ago. She’d never gotten over him and knew deep in her heart that she never would. She wanted Damien and no other would do.
“I think I’ll go swimming,” Jazz murmured sadly and turned toward the path leading down to the small pond.
“Jazz, wait,” Sera called after her. “Draken’s gone now, Damien is the Prince, and it’s his choice.”
Jazz lowered her chin and squeezed her eyes tightly, forcing the tears back into the deep recesses to her soul. She couldn’t allow herself to hope. A small part of her had secretly hated Damien for his abandonment. In all these years, he’d never tried to contact her, not even after Draken had died.
Jazz had broken down and called Damien only to be told he didn’t want to talk to her. She’d never told anyone about that heart-shattering experience. Especially Sera, so even though her words were meant to comfort, they only managed to cut her even deeper.
Instead of saying anything, Jazz merely continued her way to the pool.
Damien stood at the edge of the secluded pond and watched the water bubble and ripple. From the moment he’d received the Elder’s decree, his only thought had been to get to Jazz as quickly as possible. His hands clenched at the memory of how she’d been ripped from his very grasp.
He hated himself for his inability to protect her. He wished he’d killed every one of the guards; sometimes he wished he’d even killed his own father.
He knew she’d never taken a mate of her own and had chosen to remain at Seraphina’s estate. He hoped she would forgive him for brushing her off after his father’s death. He’d been mourning deeply and feared that he’d break at the mere sound of her voice. He’d meant to contact her well before now, but his father had left the Faction in a bit of a political mess and it had taken all his time to grasp the flailing reins and bring everyone back under command.
Then the High Council had dropped their little bombshell. Damien’s first thought had been total elation. He could finally be with his soul mate - in the most official capacity - and no one would ever separate them again. Then following quickly on the heels of his glee was morbid fear that she wouldn’t have him.
Female numbers among the Four Factions were minimal at best and neither Faction knew complete details of the other. That was where the High Council of Elders came in. They didn’t necessarily govern the groups. They more or less provided mediation in certain matters that required Cross-Factional communication. That’s why their “mate” decree had rocked Dragon-kind on its heels.
He sensed her long before she stepped through the six-feet-tall elephant ear plants providing a natural protection barrier between the small pond and the rest of the lagoon.
She’d been watching her feet as she walked the small path so she stopped suddenly, her lush lips parted in complete shock when she finally looked up and saw him.
“Hi,” he said shyly. Now he understood the meaning of the word “speechless.” Of all the things he’d wanted to say to her, they’d all abandoned him when he saw her. He scolded himself for a coward and merely waited for her to respond. He just hoped she didn’t attack him.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded harshly. It wasn’t exactly the welcome he’d hoped for, but he’d take what he could get. At least she hadn’t unsheathed her talons and tried to rend his flesh from his bones.
“I was gathering my nerve,” he explained, sweeping his hand toward the clear water and pulled the liquid toward him in small tow waves. He brushed his hand back and allowed the ripples to resettle. “I was afraid to call first. After the way I refused your call, I figured you would tell me not to come,” he admitted softly and turned back to her.
She was still beautiful, even more breath-taking after all these years. She wore her auburn curls short with a colorful bandanna wrapped snugly around her head, taming the few wayward wisps. Her dark brown eyes curved upward in the most exotic, cat-like arch. She blinked thick eyelashes as she merely studied him as if he owed her one hell of an apology.
She wore a body-forming, white sleeveless tank-top, matching shorts and white canvas sneakers. The contrast of white material against her sun-tanned skin made him drool with lust. She’d developed into a woman in the time they’d spent apart and it pleased him to see that she wasn’t as skinny as most women tended to be.
Her breasts were that plump roundness every man dreamed of fondling and her hips flared wider too. Just the way he liked. She was lush and gorgeous.
The extra flesh was just icing on the cake. He never like bony women to begin with. The mere sight of them turned his stomach. He never understood why men went for skeletons.
Given the way his body reacted to the mere sight of her, he knew his adolescent feelings were real after all. They weren’t “riddled hormones of a horny boy” as his father had explained.
They were real. She was real - flesh, bone and blood. And he would have her, no matter the cost.
“You’re right,” she conceded. “You shouldn’t have come.” With that she turned on her heel and marched back through the greenery, slapping the vibrant green leaves out of her way.
“Jazz, wait!” he called and rushed after her. He lurched forward, his arm stretched and his hand curled around her bicep. He caught her before she’d gone too far. True to his memories of her sassy nature, he wasn’t shocked when she wrenched from his grasp and whirled on him, drilling her finger into his chest like a jackhammer in concrete.
“Don’t tell me what to do,” she warned through gritted teeth, punctuating each word with a forceful jab at his solar plexus. “I may be one of your subjects, but I am not your slave.”
Throwing his hands up in defense, Damien took a retreating step backwards. Apparently her temper hadn’t improved either. His own rose to the challenge. His Dragon was her Alpha and his inner leader demanded that he show here - right then and there - that his word, his will and his wants were absolute. They were law as far as his subjects were concerned.
“I just want to talk,” he said softly, deciding at the last moment that treading lightly would more likely get him one step closer to his goal. He could order her and she would have no choice but to obey. But in doing that, she would never forgive him and he couldn’t - wouldn’t - take that chance. Not when he’d come so far for her.
“Will you please just come, sit and talk with me?” He gestured back to the little knoll by the pond. “We can talk like we used to?” He reigned the majority of his temper back into place. What happened between them all those years ago hadn’t been entirely his fault. It angered him that she blamed him.
She glared at h
im, a mixture of anger and disbelief warring for dominance in her gaze.
“Please?” he added a bit more softly even though he nearly choked on the single word. He was a Prince for Elemental’s sake, begging, much less asking was so very far beneath him. But during their separation, he’d learned that he’d crawl, naked, across broken glass for her.
“Fine,” Jazz relented and brushed past him, making sure to stomp hard on his foot as she went.
Damien winced at the small show of rebellion. This was going to be a lot harder than he’d first thought.
Chapter Two
Jazz sat on a small ledge, her bare feet dangling in the cool, crisp water. Damien’s mouth pooled with saliva over the extreme sexiness of the scene. For the longest time, he’d thought he’d gotten over her. That the passing years apart had cured him of his insane obsession of this girl, but he’d been wrong. If anything, he wanted her now more than ever.
In all the time they’d dated, they’d never had sex. Jazz had claimed she wanted to be pure on her wedding night, of course that’s when she dreamed of the two of them being together forever.
Damien had similar fantasies, but they’d all died the night she’d been violently ripped from his arms. He remembered the events so clearly it was almost as if it had happened yesterday.
After his father’s guards seized Jazz and dragged her away from Damien, he’d turned on his father with murder on his mind. He’d gotten a few good blows in on the old man before the guards subdued him, but his father’s bloody lip and bruised jaw managed to calm him some.
He’d then gone in search of Jazz, only to learn she’d quickly been whisked away. He’d seen the corpses of her parents and he’d hurt for her. His father had made it abundantly clear that the Prince Heir would never see the betrayers’ daughter again. And the ruthless Dragon had been true to his word.
Which was why Damien couldn’t grasp the reality of seeing her in person again.
“You wanted to talk,” Jazz quipped. “So talk.”
Damien’s heart lurched once at the naughty thought that blossomed. He wanted much more than to merely talk. He wanted her. He craved her. And now that he was Crown Prince, he would damn well have her.
He abandoned all pretenses and stalked toward her with a dangerous glint in his eyes. She had only seconds to register his intent but failed to head him off. He pounced her on the ledge, her beautiful legs still dangling over the edge of the moss-covered rock.
Grabbing her by her healthy thighs, he spun her around and began tearing at her shorts. He called upon his inner dragon and used the elongated talons to rip the cotton material to shreds. Momentarily caught off-guard by the slip of pink lace shielding her womanly curls, he bent forward and liberated her of them by the nip of fangs.
Once she lay bared from the waist down, he buried his face in her brunette bush and used his tongue to find her bud. He took the flesh between his teeth and quickly flicked his tongue across it, teasing a squeal from her. She buried her hands in his thick, black hair and immediately pushed at his head.
But he refused to relent. Using his tongue, he laved at the juices flowing from her sweet spot and moaned deep in his throat. She tasted like the finest honey, fresh from the hive.
“Damien!” she insisted, still pushing at him.
He pulled away from her wet mound and licked his lips free of her juices.
“You want me to stop?” he teased.
She wiggled her plump ass in response and pulled at his head.
“No, I want you inside me,” she snapped. “Now, Damien!”
“Whatever the lady wants,” Damien yielded. “I’m all for giving you exactly what you need.” He released her hips and moved sinuously up her body, making sure to brush as tightly against her as humanly possible.
Reaching down, he unclasped his shorts and made quick work of taking them off and tossing them to God knew where. His long, healthy shaft was ramrod straight, pulsing with a want and need untended in many, many years. He didn’t want her to know he was still a virgin; that he’d saved himself for his wedding night as well. He never wanted another woman the way he’d wanted her. Now, he would have her.
With one quick thrust of his hips, his cock pushed past the dewy softness of her womanly lips, dragging a moan of ecstasy from both of them. She felt like heaven, hell and everything in between. Erotic, hot, moist and absolutely to die for. Her inner muscles clenched, working him from the inside. He pulled out and thrust back in with more force and in response she wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled at his ass with her heels.
“More,” she panted. “Give me more.” More than eager to please her, he grabbed her plump ass and shoved himself as far into her as he could. Her murmurs of approval told him he was on the right track, so he kept pumping into her as quickly as he could.
Leaning down, he nipped at her neck with his blunt teeth. His tongue snaked out to lavish the rake marks. When it wasn’t enough, he scored her tender flesh with his blunt, human teeth and moaned as her blood rushed into his mouth. He refused to pause long enough and consider the ramifications of what he’d done.
She bucked her hips, pulling his thoughts back to the more carnal event, her body meeting him thrust for thrust until both of them had reached that celestial peak. Their orgasms came at the same time and each screamed the others name, their voices mingling and echoing throughout the tropical atmosphere.
Damien loosened his grip on her ass cheeks and collapsed on top of her, covering her sweat-sheened skin with his own. They both still wore their shirts, but it didn’t matter. He’d finally taken the woman his love. Although he’d drank from her, he hadn’t officially mated her, but they had nothing but time. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and sighed in contentment. He finally had his mate in his arms and he’d never again let her go. Not while he drew breath. He meant to make her his Princess and nobody would dare stop him.
Jazz kept her arms wrapped snugly around Damien’s neck. She breathed slowly, willing her racing heart to slow down. For years she’d fantasized about being with him and now that it had finally happened, she didn’t know whether she felt satisfied or scared. Questions - so many ugly questions - filled her mind. Why had he come? Who was he taking as a mate? Why make love to her when he was on the cusp of marriage?
Had he come to finally tell her ‘goodbye?’
Suddenly a strange sensation in the pit of her stomach interrupted the whirling thoughts. In her mind’s eye she saw the tiny bud of light illuminate. Fitted safely within her womb, she saw the conception of her and Damien’s child like a new bud, loosening in its long journey to completeness. The revelation hit her like a freight train at full speed. She was pregnant. With one beautiful - yet careless - act, she’d potentially endangered all of their futures. The Prince’s new mate wouldn’t stand for another Dragoness carrying the Prince’s child.
She shoved him off her and scrambled to her feet. Searching for her underwear and shorts, she gasped when she saw what he’d done to the latter. They were destroyed. She’d have to slink home in nothing but her shirt and panties. Hopefully Sera wouldn’t be around or she’d never hear the end of it.
Mimicking her actions, Damien located his own clothing and hurriedly redressed. He wore a confused expression, but Jazz didn’t pause to explain. She couldn’t tell him. Not when he was on the verge of starting a new life. He’d feel obligated to marry her and she wouldn’t be a bride of circumstance; no matter how much she loved him and yearned for him. She refused to trap him.
“Jazz?” he called softly as she headed toward the elephant ears. “What’s wrong?”
She stopped but didn’t turn to face him. She knew that one glance into his moss green eyes and she’d spill her soul at his feet. He’d filled out very nicely in the time they’d been apart. Whereas he’d once been a tall, gangly teen-aged boy, he now wore muscles like most men wore their clothes.
His broad shoulders flowed down to firm, rock-solid pecs and God, don’t get her
started on the eight-pack abs that led to narrow hips. His long legs had filled out as well and she marveled at the mere strength he’d shown while he’d taken her so forcefully.
Forcefully and completely.
God, she felt the warmth of his seed as it slipped from her body and ran down her legs. No matter how badly she wanted to hate him, her body still reacted at being so close to him. Every ounce of her body told her to turn around and mount him like the stallion he was, but her hand automatically went to her stomach and she sobbed lightly.
“I can’t,” she whispered. “Damien, I can’t talk to you right now,” she informed him a bit louder.
“Alright,” he conceded and she heard the disappointment in his voice. “I’ll come by Sera’s later this evening.” She heard his footfalls as he moved closer to her. He closed the distance until they stood back to chest. He leaned down and she shivered when his warm breath brushed across her exposed neck and ear.
“You will talk to me then,” he ordered. “I won’t take ‘no’ for an answer.”
She felt a brush of wind and knew he was gone. Chancing a quick peek over her shoulder, she sighed in relief when she saw that she was indeed alone. She immediately felt his absence like a hole in her heart. Wrapping her arms around her middle, she collapsed to the ground and wept with all the sorrow she’d bottled deeply inside her.
Chapter Three
She stayed crumpled on the ground so long she lost track of time. The sun had already made its way past noon and well into the afternoon. She wiped her gritty eyes and allowed the seductive call of the pool wash over her. Standing on shaky legs, she shed the rest of her clothing and dove into the cool, crisp water, dividing the surface with a fluid, swan-like motion.
She allowed herself to sink to the bottom and doubled in on herself again. Her dragon begged for release; she wanted to emerge and play in the rippling water. But Jazz suppressed the change, knowing full well that once the dragon took over, she’d be powerless to reign it back in for a while. It would require time she didn’t have.
His Takeover: An Enemies to Lovers Romance Page 86
