Mate of the Dragon: BBW Paranormal Shifter Romance (Her Dragon's Bane Series Book 6)

by Harmony Raines

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Chapter One – Tara

  Chapter Two – Dòmhnall

  Chapter Three – Tara

  Chapter Four – Dòmhnall

  Chapter Five – Tara

  Chapter Six – Dòmhnall

  Chapter Seven – Tara

  Chapter Eight – Dòmhnall

  Chapter Nine – Tara

  Chapter Ten – Dòmhnall

  Chapter Eleven – Tara

  Chapter Twelve – Dòmhnall

  Chapter Thirteen – Tara

  Chapter Fourteen – Dòmhnall

  Chapter Fifteen – Tara

  Chapter Sixteen – Dòmhnall

  Chapter Seventeen – Tara

  Chapter Eighteen – Dòmhnall

  Chapter Nineteen – Tara

  Other Books By Harmony Raines

  Mate of the Dragon

  Her Dragon’s Bane

  (Book Six)

  *

  Note from the author: My books are written, produced and edited in the UK where spellings and word usage can vary from U.S. English. The use of quotes in dialogue and other punctuation can also differ.

  ***

  All rights reserved. This book, or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner without the express written consent of the author or publisher.

  This is a work of fiction and is intended for mature audiences only. All characters within are eighteen years of age or older. Names, places, businesses, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, actual events or places is purely coincidental.

  © 2015 Harmony Raines

  Silver Moon Erotica

  Kindle Edition

  Chapter One – Tara

  Tara leaned back against Dòmhnall’s broad, toned chest. His arms slipped around her waist, and with one hand, he hitched up her long skirt, bunching the fabric up over her knees and then higher. His hand moved to her thigh, stroking upwards, finding the small bundle of nerves that throbbed to be touched, making her gasp with pleasure.

  Leaning forward, he placed his hand in the crook of her knee and lifted her leg. His intent was clear as he placed her foot on the chair in front of the desk. Tara held her breath in anticipation. His fingers slid back along the length of her thigh, the throb of her clit stronger than her heartbeat. Dòmhnall sighed against her with pleasure. He had given himself better access to her, and now he intended to make her come. To drive her to the edge of reason with his hands and mouth.

  Lips sucking on her earlobe sent shivers along her spine, but his thick middle finger slipping inside her wet sex overshadowed this exquisite excitement. It was what she had longed for: after keeping her at arm’s length for so long, he was finally admitting his desire for her. And, pressed against her back, his thick, hard cock proved his intense need for the woman who was his dragon mate.

  Deeper, he plunged his finger, slick wet sounds as he moved in and out, his thumb rubbing her clit, inching her closer and closer to her needed release. His other hand crushed her breasts, fondling them, squeezing them, his thumb and forefinger tweaking her nipples, increasing her arousal until she leaned back against him, her knees weak with wanton desire.

  What an image they must make, a witch and a dragon lord in the throes of passion. Not caring who saw, only that their bodies were about to consummate their bond. Her voice rose, a fever taking her as he thrust another finger inside her and roughly plunged them in and out. The moment was so close; she would come around his fingers, and then he would bend her over the solid wooden desk and fuck her for the first time.

  “Tara!”

  “Damn it,” Tara cursed at the abrupt ending to her daydream. “What?”

  “Open the door, I need to talk to you,” Dòmhnall commanded. Did the man have no idea how to talk without it sounding as though she should jump to attention and do his bidding? Why did he have to be her bonded mate?

  Even worse, she mused as she went to the door, knowing he would probably knock it down if he thought she was ignoring him, it seemed the only time Dòmhnall remembered he was her bonded mate was when she was expected to do as he wanted. Yet he offered nothing in return.

  Would he never consummate their bond? Then there was the matter of his dragon heart, or his heart stone. It would grant her immortality, to allow her to live for an eternity with him, but he chose to keep it to himself. She knew he had his reasons, that he had already been cheated out of it once. However, he also knew this time he had found the real thing, his real true mate. Every day that passed took another day from her youth, and he could stop all that if he would only accept the inevitable and let her join with him. Forever.

  As she opened the door to him and saw his dismissive expression, Tara wondered if she really wanted to spend forever with him.

  “Why was the door locked?” he asked accusingly, looking past her into the room beyond, trying to see what she had been doing. If only he knew.

  “To stop you and those great lumbering beasts of yours interrupting me.” The other dragons happily went wherever they wanted; privacy was not a thing they understood.

  “Those beasts are older than time itself. Do not talk about them as though they are dumb animals.” His voice held its normal arrogant edge.

  “Only yesterday Kier came in while I was putting the last drops into a potion. He nearly made me blow the Stronghold up. I would call that pretty dumb.” She turned to walk away from him, hoping he couldn’t see the flush of arousal across her cheeks. Then she remembered he didn’t take any notice of her at all, apart from if he wanted a spell cast or someone’s future read. She was a slave to the great Dòmhnall, Dragon Lord of Spellholm. When she should have been his woman, his mate and his equal. Her mood worsened.

  “Why are you here, Dòmhnall? A wart that needs removing, a spell to make your scales shine brighter in the sun, or have you just come to vex me?” She began to put her books away, knowing she would need to get outside into the forest and walk off her bad mood or she might find herself making a poison to add to his dinner. Nothing fatal, but perhaps one that would make him flatulent. That would be a fine thing for a dragon lord, uncontrollable wind.

  “I have been summoned by the dryads,” he announced.

  Trying not to let him see her interest, she kept her back to him and asked, “And what does that have to do with me? What do you want, a spell to put you in a good mood while you visit them? I can tell you, if I knew how to do that, I would use it every day.”

  He sighed. “Can you drop this verbal abuse for one day?”

  She blushed, feeling like a chastised child. It was her way of dealing with the situation, dealing with him. If she made herself believe he was a miserable, commanding oaf, then she wouldn’t feel so bad about him not wanting her.

  “I suppose I will survive one day, as long as you don’t expect me to be nice to you.”

  “I do not believe you know how to be nice. Especially not to me.” He walked into the room, coming closer, making her whole body sing, her flesh sensitive to his close proximity, her hairs standing on end to catch the electrical current he seemed to emit.

  “I could be. But what fun is that?” she asked, running her finger along the edge of the desk, her mind blocking out her earlier fantasy as her senses went into overdrive. “Oh, I forgot, the great Dòmhnall, Dragon Lord of Spellholm, doesn’t know what fun is.”

  “Tara, I do not ha
ve time to rise to your comments, so I will come straight to the point.” He sounded a little nervous, which piqued her interest; nothing fazed Dòmhnall.

  She turned to face him, her haughty expression that of the most powerful witch in Spellholm, which she was, in her opinion anyway. “Tell me.”

  “They have asked for us both.”

  “Us both?” She raised her eyebrow; no one except for the other dragons and their mates knew that they were a bonded pair. To most other people and creatures in Spellholm, she was simply an abrasive woman whom they avoided at all costs.

  “Yes, will you accompany me?” he asked. Dòmhnall never asked, he commanded. What was so special about the dryads?

  “I have plans,” she said lightly.

  “Tara, the dryads keep themselves away from everyone else. For them to ask to see us must mean there is a problem I am unaware of.”

  “And the mighty Dragon Lord should be aware of every problem in Spellholm.” She sounded sarcastic, as she often did around Dòmhnall.

  “I wish to build a relationship with the dryads, if for no other reason than they hear things through the trees that the rest of us are never even aware of. They range from the very edges of Spellholm to the very centre, a place of very powerful magic.”

  Tara knew what he was trying to do. Tempt her with power: he knew she craved all the knowledge she could get her hands on. Tara wanted to be the most powerful witch in Spellholm, a thing she knew Dòmhnall wanted and feared in equal measures.

  At present he could control her, especially if he went all dragon, her magic was no match for him. But one day she would gain the knowledge she needed to at least be his match. Then she would most definitely be the most suitable mate for him, and he would have to accept her. Or risk losing her—she was tired of being taken for granted.

  Sadly, that was her main reason for accumulating the knowledge. Not for herself or for the power she would have over other people, but because he would have to sit up and take notice of her if she was capable of destroying him.

  This knowledge made her feel weak, like a pathetic, lovelorn fool.

  As she turned to face him, to reluctantly tell him she would find the time if it was that important, she hoped he couldn’t see that to win the love and respect of the great Dragon Lord, she would trade her soul.

  Or maybe he did see it and that was why he kept his distance.

  “Dòmhnall, if you wish me to go with you, I will. I won’t lie and tell you their magic doesn’t fascinate me, but that is not the reason I am agreeing to go. Nor is it because the dryads have requested our presence.” She took a deep breath. Sometimes she was as fed up of these little games they played, scoring points off each other, as he must be. “I will go because you want me to. No other reason.”

  His eyes narrowed. She hated the way he was always trying to tell if she was manipulating him. But she could understand why. Because manipulating people was what she had been doing her whole life.

  Chapter Two – Dòmhnall

  She drove him to despair, and distraction: hell, sometimes she drove him so close to his own destruction he could feel the lifeblood in him trickling away. And that scared him, that a woman, his woman, could make him feel like this. He wanted to claim her and banish her from his sight, all in one heartbeat.

  “Thank you, Tara,” he said, his mind racing through all the reasons she might have to say that to him. As usual, he settled on the one reason why Tara normally did anything: there was something in it for her. The dryads didn’t appear for just anyone; you could walk the forest of Spellholm your whole life and never see one. Being invited there was a great honour, something that worried him almost as much as Tara saying she was going there for him.

  Devious women, especially those who used magic. After a witch had stolen his heart stone several centuries ago, he had struggled to trust a witch or anyone else, really. Only the other dragons in the Stronghold had his trust, but they had sworn a blood oath to him, so he didn’t have to rely on his own judgement as to where their loyalties lay.

  “When do we leave?” Tara asked.

  “At dusk.”

  “Dusk?” she asked. “Why dusk? It is a full moon tonight. I should be celebrating with a ritual, not gallivanting around on the back of a dragon.”

  Or I could claim you on the Moon Altar so that we can make a child, an heir to the Stronghold. Right now that seemed so appealing. Damn, it was near impossible not to give into the urge to take her right now.

  He came closer to her, and he saw how her body reacted to him. She wanted him; he had smelt her sweet-scented arousal when he entered the room. Now her body sent out signals, telling him how much she wanted him. Her pupils were slightly dilated; she continually licked her lips as if she could feel his upon them; and her breasts were swollen with desire, her nipples hard buds of need.

  “Don’t play with me, Tara, I know how much you love to spread your thighs and ride me. What greater power is there than to be astride a dragon’s broad back.” His lips were close to hers, she flicked her eyes down to them and there was the tip of her tongue once more, moistening her lower lip, waiting for him to kiss her. And the temptation was incredible. Only once before had he allowed himself to give in to his desire for her; he could still taste that one kiss. And now it took a sustained effort to not take her to his bed and fill her with his cock.

  In fact, if she had his senses, she might be able to tell he was just as turned on as she was. If not more. “I will meet you in the courtyard at dusk, it is only a short flight. I look forward to our evening together, Tara.”

  Then he turned and swept out of the room, sensing her waver, her knees so weak she had to place her hand on the desk to steady herself. Maybe he could conquer her after all; maybe tonight after they had spoken to the dryads, he could lay her down in a sacred grove and finally consummate their bond under the light of the full moon. Surely, a bond forged in magic would be unbreakable.

  But their first coupling needed to be on the stone altar in the moon room; it was a form of sacrifice, after which he needed to mate with her at every opportunity for the next five days to complete the moon rite and create a dragon child.

  Every opportunity. Yes, he liked that idea; so too did his dragon. Maybe it was time to stop playing games and make her theirs.

  Chapter Three – Tara

  “What exactly do you think they want?” Charlotte asked Tara.

  “I have no idea,” Tara answered, handing a book to Charlotte. “But I want you to keep hold of this for me. Just in case.”

  Just in case. Was that how her life was always going to be lived? She didn’t trust anyone, not human or otherworldly. To Tara everyone was after something for themselves, except maybe Charlotte. It was why Charlotte, although young, was the closest Tara would ever probably get to a friend. They had met when Tara had helped rescue her from a man, Samuel, who was using her as bait. In order to free her, her sister, Serena, was supposed to take control of a dragon’s soul.

  At least that was what Samuel had thought. In reality, Tara had seen the future and knew things were not going to work out that way. The sisters were bonded to dragon brothers Connor and Zoah, but no matter how she tried to make it work out differently, it was only through suffering that the sisters would be joined with their dragon mates.

  Serena had not exactly trusted Tara after that. It had taken time for them to build up any kind of friendship. That was Tara’s problem. Often being a seer seemed like a curse, and people never actually appreciated her way of doing things. Manipulative was the best way to describe her actions, yet always Tara acted with so much thought and care towards the outcome.

  It was like walking over a frozen lake. One false move and it will crack under your weight and send you plummeting into water so deep and cold you would certainly perish. So you test the different routes, until you find the one that will get you to the other side. Only the cracks that appear as you place one foot down in front of another are really pain and hardship.
A thing no one liked to endure, even if it was for the common good.

  “Tara?” Charlotte’s voice broke through her reverie.

  “Hmm?”

  “What is it? You seem distracted.” Charlotte clutched the book to her chest, and Tara was thankful she seemed to understand just how precious it was.

  “I don’t really know.” She was silent for a moment. “It’s the first time Dòmhnall has ever actually asked me to do something. Not without commanding me first and then us going through a game of cat and mouse until he just does what he should have done in the first place and asks me civilly. You know how much he likes to flex those dragon muscles of his.”

  “Maybe this is more important to him than he is letting on?” Charlotte looked awkward and then added, “Or maybe he is just coming around to the fact that sooner or later he is going to have to give in to the bond that is between you.”

  Tara laughed sarcastically. “The day Dòmhnall realises he has to give in to anything is the day his blood will freeze in his body.”

  “I thought you said it was already frozen. Oh, that was his heart,” Charlotte laughed.

  Tara should have laughed too; she normally did. But it was getting old, just as she would get old and die before he succumbed to the mating instinct and took her to his bed. If he never consummated their bond, she would never have a chance to make him love and trust her enough for him to give her his heart stone. The heart stone of a dragon transferred long life to his mate.

  Charlotte had been given her mate, Zoah’s, heart stone and her sister, Serena, had been given Connor’s. Serena and Connor had a son, whilst Charlotte was heavily pregnant. Tara had hoped all these signs of procreation might have turned Dòmhnall around. Shouldn’t a dragon lord crave a son and heir?

  “I wish he would change, you know?” Tara said, going back to tidying her workspace. “If I don’t return tonight, can you come in and turn this?” She pointed to a small egg timer filled with some light blue fluid.