Her Hidden Dragon: Paranormal Dragon Shifter Romance (Dragons of Giresun Book 3)

by Suzanne Roslyn

  But they blinked when she blinked and those were her kiss swollen lips.

  He reached from behind her. Looked at her with the same slatted eyes. His blue like sapphires watching in the mirror as his fingers slid inside her bra and the tips brushed against her nipples, cool against her heated flesh. Over and over again, he flicked the little nubs as they hardened.

  She arched for him, resting her head back on his shoulder. Her gaze held with his in the mirror. “You’re tricking me. Trying to seduce me.”

  “Tricking you?” Sigurd’s hands stilled. Looking back at her in the mirror. “Those eyes don’t lie, baby.”

  Chapter Nine

  He started to withdraw his hands, but Ashlyn seized them, held them against her breast. He could feel her heart pounding. “I must be crazy.”

  “I think we’re done with lessons for now.” He tried to act calm. The coldest waterfall in Siberia wouldn’t cool down the fire spreading through him. Now who was the crazy one?

  Her lids grew heavy with lust. “But there is still more I need to learn.”

  He managed to shake his head. She was so willing, so arousing, he ached with a need to feel himself buried deep inside her. His dragon side demanded he claim her, the urge far greater than his control.

  “We’ve done gone past lesson one. Skipped two, and if you want to go on, then you’ll know I will claim you and there is no going back on it.”

  He registered the sweep of her lashes, her sweet scent filled with fear.

  “What if I transform?” She looked at him with those large emerald eyes. “Does it hurt to… you know... to…”

  “Shift?” He saw his frown in the mirror. “That’s what scares you?”

  “You do it all the time.” She stammered. “It’s who you are, but not me. You have no idea what it feels like to think you know who you are then find out you’re not… well, who you think you are. Maybe I’m only part dragon. Maybe I can’t shift. Maybe that’s why…”

  His heart couldn’t take the desperation in her voice any longer. He turned her to face him. He cupped her cheek, gently stroking her face with his thumb. “I want you.”

  His answer took her by surprise. Her parted lips too inviting not to kiss. She drank from him, thirsty. He gave her what she sought, filling his thoughts full of adoration, reassurance, and what he felt she craved most—acceptance.

  Her hands rested on his shoulder, he reached around her, unclasping her bra. He had no idea why she even put it back on.

  “No one has ever,” she whispered between kisses.

  “I want you.”

  She raked her fingernails over his bare chest, enough to scratch, close to drawing blood. He didn’t mind. A flick of pain to elongate the pleasure.

  “Then I’m yours.”

  He would have pumped a fist in the air and done a happy dance if not to break the mood. “You accept you’re my mate?”

  She had to say it. She had to say it.

  “Yes.”

  One simple word caused his world to stand still. He kissed her hard. Engaged in one long lip-lock, bumping against the corner of the table, past the couch, he managed to steer her back to her bed. Everything else could wait. This moment was all that mattered.

  He slid his fingers up into her hair, soft and slick like strands of silk which never seemed to cease. She went for his jeans, playing with the button until it gave, and lowering the zipper. He hissed at the freedom. His tongue thrusting between her lips as his erection sprang forth.

  She made little sounds in her throat, feral-like, sexy and he couldn’t stand it any longer. He broke away from her, made fast work of her cargo pants, that skimpy scrap of lace, and pushed her back on the bed. “Ash.”

  She sat up, tugged at his jeans and purred with satisfaction when he kicked them aside. He tilted his head back, closed his eyes, and gave into the pleasure of her hand.

  “It’s like a piece of hot steel.” She explored the length of him.

  Sigurd groaned, her curiosity would kill him.

  He laid her back, climbing over her on the bed. He nudged her legs apart, making her scoot those luscious curves of hers further onto the mattress. Skin on skin, he ran hot kisses the whole way down her neck. She pressed her breast into his chest, and little electric shocks burst through him. She gasped, and he knew she felt it, too.

  His mouth crashed back over hers as his hand slid down between her legs to confirm her readiness. Beneath him Ash pulled her knees up and raised her hips.

  Sigurd let out another groan, more of a roar, positioning himself against her entrance. She pressed her head back into the cover, biting down on her lip. He pushed to get deeper as her body fought him every inch of the way. He held there, letting her adjust to his girth, soaking up the feel of her - hot and wet and tight.

  Ash rocked against him. He grabbed her hip, “Steady, baby. I don’t want to hurt you.” There was a wildness in her eyes, she rocked harder and he was lost in the sensation building between them. Slow and easy he set a rhythm, and her little cries and noises drove him into a frenzy. Thrust for thrust she met him, like a dance in which only they could hear the music. Every last part of her surrendered to him.

  “Mine,” He growled, his body slamming into her, harder—faster. She clutched him, her body jerking under him, as she made sexy, heady, noises urging him on. His dragon uncoiled inside him, as he thrust more violently than the last. He braced himself on elbows, clamped his teeth against her shoulder and bit down. She jerked again beneath him, her nails biting into his back and her legs wrapped around his waist. He let out a throaty roar, stiffened, his seed spilling through her before his body shuddered.

  Panting up a storm, he rested his head against her breast. Like molten fire, her heat radiated up against his sweat chilled skin. Together their hearts beat in unison. From this time forward, they would always be one.

  She quivered beneath him, a tangle of trembling limbs, still clinging to him. His own muscles shook as he pushed himself off, then flopped over on his back. He’d never been so… on fire, fueled with desire. She curled over and nestled her head on his chest.

  “I should go check on the hatchery. I’ve missed the morning rotation.” Her hand stroked him, trailing a finger down middle of his chest.

  “We’ve still got lunch waiting.”

  “Oh.” He felt her breath go in, go out. “I’d forgotten you’d cooked there for a minute. I hope you’re as good as a cook as you are at giving lessons.”

  He kissed the top of Ashlyn’s head, eased himself away from her, and stood from the bed.

  When he looked at her in the soft glow of the afternoon sun streaming in through the glass walls, he wanted to draw her close again. “Oh, I’m good, baby. Real good.”

  Chapter Ten

  If she’d learned anything in the last few days of getting to know Sigurd Eltvik, it was that he was a show off. She rolled on her side, elbow on the bed, and rested her head in her hand as she watched him saunter that well sculpted ass to the kitchen area. According to the ancient ones, dragons had been a gift to human-kind from the gods. No wonder every naked inch of him reminded her of well-formed sculpture.

  He set two plates of cold pancakes and sweet slices of apple on the bed. “Hungry?”

  She licked her lips. “Starving.”

  “Hope you don’t mind them cold.” He plunged his fork into a piece of cut apple. After the first bite, she grinned. “Mmm—so good.”

  “There’s more where that came from.” He gave her that sexier-than-hell quirk of a smile.

  She picked up a fork and jabbed a piece of pancake. He’d cut it up on her plate and a little part of her beamed at his thoughtfulness. He took the bite, and back and forth they fed each other. Each bite, his eyes glazed as he watched her. A spasm burst between her legs in her most tender spot.

  When they finished, he piled their plates on a stand beside her bed.

  Ashlyn settled beside him. Mixed feelings swirled through her.

  Sigurd t
ook her wrist, lifted it to his mouth, blew on it gently branding her with his tongue.

  “Why did you do that?”

  He sealed the mark with a kiss. “You are my mate now. We dragons brand each other, but since you’ve not learned to shift...” He shrugged, those damn sparkling blue eyes of his made her nerves dance.

  “Then shall I mark you, too?” She pulled back her wrist, rubbing the area. Not of pain, for his cold dragon’s breath numbed her skin, but to ensure like a temporary tattoo out of the gum ball machine, it wouldn’t wash away.

  “Baby, your mark on me runs deeper than the skin. Can’t you feel it? You’re in my heart as much as my thoughts.”

  And hearing his thoughts in her own head made her body flush with need for him. Her foster mother had been right. Men did think with the head between their legs. Her body tingled thinking of him buried deep inside her. So complete. So whole.

  He yanked her against him. By the darkening of his eyes, he heard her thoughts, too.

  Would there be no secrets between them?

  He pressed kisses against her flushed skin. “Whatever you’ve got locked up, baby. I want to see it.”

  “And if I were to become a dragon?” She shuddered.

  “Then I’d love you the same. I’d give you the scale which covers my heart as you would I. We’d hibernate in my lair.”

  “Yours? Not mine if I had one?”

  He nipped at her neck. Kissed the spot on her shoulder where he’d bitten her during their love making. How could he proclaim love for her this soon? One rowdy bout of sex and her body had betrayed her. He looked at her with that arched brow. She reached up and pushed a lock of his muted golden hair from his eye. He’d unlocked more than her hidden dragon from inside her. He’d unlocked that part of her heart. The part which spoke truth when she’d felt their hearts beating as one. And even now, when she looked into those smoldering blue eyes. She’d been his from the start.

  “We dragons go where the biggest hoard is stashed. Call it our nest egg.”

  She almost laughed. “You really put things in a cave? Not stash them in a safe deposit box? Or these places we like to call a bank?”

  “A bank won’t warm you at night. Paper money doesn’t sing to you like heated gold, and there are some treasures best left hidden for their value is immeasurable.” His voice grew thick with his accent.

  “Priceless you mean?”

  “You, baby, are the most priceless treasure any dragon would risk his life for.”

  She believed him. Not because she could sense the truth in his words, his heart, but because of the way he looked at her. In his eyes she saw the love he proclaimed for her.

  That was all she ever wanted. This moment. This man. Someone who saw her, the real her, and they weren’t frightened by what she’d suspected had been hidden inside her all along.

  Only one thing frightened her more, but she wouldn’t think of it, couldn’t think of it and have Sigurd know the one secret she’d kept buried deep down inside of her all these years.

  She shuddered again. Thinking her cold, Sigurd pulled her closer into his arms. She would have kept him there, snug in her bed, if not for her responsibilities to the hatchery. Her next lesson would have to wait. Suddenly, her life felt as if it had gone to the birds.

  “Have you met the Curl Crested Aracari? We keep it in the haven part of the hatchery.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Sigurd waited for Ashlyn in the aviary’s lobby where several tourists glanced at him, unaware this hunky male dragon had found himself a gorgeous female specimen, and therefore had become unavailable.

  Besides, no female ever looked so good in yellow as his mate did.

  Ashlyn strolled up to him. After a quick shower, she’d changed into a flowery sun dress while he’d stepped out of the tree house to check his phone for messages.

  His eyes drifted over her legs, the sheer length and tone of them aroused him as he imagined them wrapped around him. Her calves, strong and perfect. And when his gaze dropped to her feet, he chuckled. She wore simple white tennis shoes. Cute, but practical.

  “Shall we follow the others?” he asked.

  “Quintin must have called Rosa to help with tours today. They don’t usually run this late.” She glanced around, then reached for his hand. “We’ll go this way.”

  She led him away from the main exhibit rooms. Took them into the natural jungle area. From his flight into Harghita, he knew the aviary took up a grand hunk of land between the hatchery and the volcanic mountains behind it.

  Metal frames supported wire mesh stretched over the sections of bird habitats. Shatterproof glass panels surrounded the entire exterior sections of the aviary. When they came to the inner main section, she unlocked the door and held it open.

  Inside, long legged pink birds dipped their heads into a man-made stream. Bright feathered parrots tilted their heads, watching them pass through the thick foliage. Above, sounds of chirping birds and duck calls faded as they neared the waterfall.

  “You know, baby, this is a good place for a lesson. Let your dragon out.”

  Ashlyn rolled her eyes. “And here I thought you’d want to go for a swim.”

  “With or without our dragon suits?”

  He had been trying hard to get her to shift, but it wouldn’t work. She hadn’t shifted in all her twenty-five years, maybe she couldn’t shift at all. He started to growl, that low guttural sound that caused a spasm low in her belly.

  “Hush.” She placed a finger over her lips. “We don’t want to scare the Spix.”

  Sigurd sucked her finger into his mouth, swirled his tongue around the tip, and watched the smoky haze of lust cloud her vision.

  She pulled her finger away. “Not here.”

  “Tease.” He tugged her closer.

  “Sigurd. I mean it. We mustn’t alarm the Spix or we can’t continue past the waterfall.”

  “Perhaps if it had a gorgeous mate as I, then it would be too distracted to care.”

  “There are two, but we’ve yet to find a mate for either female. My mother… I mean Mrs. Kovak, rescued them from smugglers several years ago.”

  “You don’t call them Mum or Dad? I mean, I know they are not your biological parents, but they raised you. Don’t you think they deserve some respect in that manner?”

  His question surprised her. He held her steady by the elbow as she stumbled over a rock the closer they came to the waterfall. He didn’t take much notice of it. Water gushing from the top of the mountain, racing down the ridge and worn canal formed over the years to make a big splash in the pool at their feet. He could feel bits of water misting against his face.

  “They’re not my parents. Substitutes for the parents I loved more than life. Only, they couldn’t have been my parents, could they?”

  A large macaw with emerald wings soared out of a tree and flew between them.

  “Come then. We’re almost there.”

  He sensed an urgency in her and followed her up against the rock where she slid between the rushing waters and the slick rock. She’d turned the knobs and pushed the large metal door open by the time he reached her. Once through, with the door closed, the roar of the water disappeared. Silence, an echo of a drop of water, lingered between them.

  “Where are we?” He gazed about, she’d brought them inside the mountain. A long tunnel lighted as they walked by glowing ambers in the rock. It opened to a much larger cavern. “I thought you didn’t know you were a dragon.”

  “I didn’t. This isn’t mine. It’s always been here.”

  Sigurd turned in a slow circle, his eyes dilated, and his vision sharpened to take in all the nooks and dark corners of the chiseled-out cavern. Archways led to smaller rooms or tunnels leading deeper into the mountain. His nostrils flared with old scents of blood and egg and burnt stone. “What is this place?”

  “Welcome to the haven. It’s a safe house for dragons and their unhatched young.”

  Sigurd could sense her unease. Her
scent had changed, fear and gloom lingered in this dank, dim, cavern. Once it could have housed a herd of dragons. He could see it now, the many tunnels leading to lairs and the females who dominated those dens. He itched to shift, to scratch his scales against the ruff cobble stones at their feet and the bricks and the mountain’s stone in the archways and walls. He took a deep breath, so many scents, mostly female, some more recent than others. His dragon stirred, burned in his gut, he yanked Ashlyn to him. His lips claiming hers in a feverish kiss.

  He slid his hand in her hair, yanked one of her legs up so he could press himself against her softness. She pulled her mouth away, caught her breath and said, “I imagine this is why males are not allowed to enter the haven.”

  His need for her caught him off guard. He hadn’t been this randy since a teenager, and even then, he could keep it in his pants long enough to please the girls. But this wasn’t any girl. This was his mate. With the scents of females, heat, and her scent even stronger in the cavern then the others, he couldn’t keep his dragon inside settled. Her fingers gripped his shoulder. He backed her up into one of the archways. “I’m afraid there is only one way out.”

  “And which way is that?”

  Sigurd unsnapped his pants, shifted his hips and left the jeans fall to his feet. She watched him intently, a hint of a rise to the corner of her mouth. She licked her lips.

  “Vixen. You knew what would happen if you brought me here.”

  “Did not,” Ashlyn fired back, but her breathing slowed, and her heart raced. He could feel it quicken as did his own. She ran her fingers over his abs, tracing the dips of his muscles. He held himself back, waited for her to touch his cock, and a spark of electricity burst and spread through him like fire. He smoothed his hand up and down her thigh, squeezing and palming her flesh. By the time his lips left her mouth and descended to her breast, both nipples had hardened.