Dragon's Pleasure (BBW / Dragon Shifter Romance) (Lords of the Dragon Islands Book 3)

by Isadora Montrose

  “I think,” Lord Lindorm continued as if neither Hugo nor Sven had uttered, and as if Severn was not doing an impression of an infuriated bull with a wasp stuck to his privates, “That we must choose either a Quest or a Duel.”

  “Or we could choose Death by Ordeal,” said Severn hoarsely.

  “I think not, Severn,” said Hugo in measured tones. “As a member of the Council, I must vote against both torture and dueling. They are forbidden by Dragon Law.”

  “And I’m afraid, brother,” Lindorm continued. “That as you are the only one without a seat on Council, it is three against one. Has anyone any ideas for a suitable quest?”

  “Set him to catch the murderer of Bulow?” Sven artlessly suggested.

  Ivan groaned. Hugo shot him a look and moved his head sideways a quarter of an inch. He buttoned his lip.

  “As it happens,” Lindorm said, “We are baiting a trap for the killer, Lord Ivan. I invite you to be the bait.”

  “If that is what you wish.” Ivan surveyed the dragons. Severn and Sven wore identical expressions of hate, Hugo looked resigned, and Lord Lindorm looked positively happy. Fucking hell, he was dead meat. Whatever this trap was, he was unlikely to survive.

  “Sit down, Ivan. And let us tell you what we plan,” Lindorm invited gently. “The murderer showed up at the Chateau de la Ghilde yesterday and was prevented from entering the Vault by the spells which seal the door.”

  Ivan nodded. He knew that the Key worked only if the words of power were spoken by a member of one of the Houses of the Guardians.

  “Our evidence,” Lindorm continued, “Is a scant ten minutes of blurry video which should not be blurred at all. Are you aware, Ivan, that when Lord Voros was attacked in January, his house was accessed by one who had mastered the spell of the cloak of invisibility?”

  “No, sir.” Ivan glanced at his brother who was nodding as if he knew all about it. He wasn’t sure he believed in the spell of invisibility. But he carried a weapon on his skin that many would also find incredible. And it wasn’t some wild-eyed nut telling this tale, this was Lindorm at his most serious. Someone had mastered the legendary spell of the cloak of invisibility. That explained a lot of shit.

  “The Bulows have discovered one more thing missing since you and that bear shifter were on Juist,” Lindorm went on. “It seems that Prinze Reinhardt had made a hobby of researching the treasures of our ancestors.”

  Ivan shook his head. “No one mentioned it to us.”

  Lindorm sighed. “He had gone so far as to have a volume made. About so big.” Lindorm picked up a fat, hardcover book from his desk. “He wrote on vellum and had the pages illuminated. The volume was then bound in leather trimmed with silver.”

  Ivan glanced at the other dragons. They were unsurprised by this astonishing piece of eccentricity. Clearly, they had already heard this story.

  “The reproduction has vanished from the Grand Duke’s chambers. It seems most plausible that the killer took it when he stole the key. Now someone has tried and failed to enter the Vault. It is likely that he will attempt a second entry. When he does, we intend that he should be met by a warm reception.” Lindorm smiled benignly at Ivan. “If you survive this battle, we will discuss further your claim on Christina of Severn.”

  The plan was mad. But Hugo was looking at him as if it were not a death sentence. “When do I start?” he asked.

  “I have to lay some groundwork first,” Lindorm said blandly. “We have a suspect who has in all probability discovered that the words of power he dragged out of Prinze Reinhardt do not invariably work. He is even now wondering if the old man was too incapable to say them correctly, or if the spell requires some talent of which he is not possessed. I intend to make it plain to him that all he will need is to persuade one of my House to say them for him. I have assigned my sword bearers to guard the Vault, so they will be handy when he next tries.”

  “One of them might well be killed, even if this plan succeeds,” blurted Ivan.

  “We are relying on you, Ivan Sarkany, to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

  Talk about your forlorn hope. He was utterly and totally fucked. He bowed. “I think there are a few things that I need to report, before I leave,” he said.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Lady Lindorm had rented a hundred-foot long cruise ship for the pleasure of her guests on this fine spring morning. It was no great feat for Ivan to take Christina aside to walk around the decks while she pointed out the beauty spots on either bank of the Loire River. Ivan bent his head attentively and pretended that he had not heard it all before.

  “Will you come with me?” he said into her ear.

  “Where?”

  “Sailing.”

  She gurgled. “We are out on the river at this very moment. Just enjoy the scenery. In a bit there will be a wine tasting, and lunch afterwards.”

  “I want you on my ship,” he whispered.

  “We’re stuck on this one until we dock after dinner. We have no way of getting off.” She slapped at his hand which was tickling her waist.

  “When we get to the wharf, instead of going back to the Chateau, we will slip aboard my yacht. I want another taste of you before I die.”

  “Your yacht?”

  “I had it brought up from Italy. I want to be alone with you, once more before I die.”

  She rolled her eyes. “No one is going to kill you. Stop being so melodramatic. Honestly, anyone would think you had never met my people. This is the twenty-first century. We Lindorms are polished, sophisticated, cosmopolitan dragons, not berserkers.”

  His darling was adorably delusional. But who was he to set her straight about her primitive kinsmen? “Humor me, Christina. I want to take you on a real bed without the prospect of your family discovering us boinking.”

  She could feel herself blushing. “Ivan,” she hissed. “Someone will hear us.”

  “Probably.” He brushed a gnat from her shoulder. “You should just say yes, my darling.”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  * * *

  “I wasn’t expecting you today, Felipe,” Inge Lindorm said as she kissed Felipe on both cheeks.

  “My business concluded ahead of schedule, Aunt Inge, so I took a chance that I would be welcome today.” Lord Felipe Balcazar Mendez smiled down at Lady Lindorm.

  His tall, dark good looks and aristocratic bearing were potent tools. Inge felt the full force of the Balcazar Mendez charm, and as always she found her displeasure with Felipe’s foibles melting. “We are always happy to see you, Felipe.” She tucked her arm in his. “Let me show you to your room. How are your parents — should we expect them tonight?”

  “Madre and Padre will arrive on Saturday as scheduled, Aunt.”

  “Excellent. It is a shame that you didn’t get here earlier. Today, I arranged a cruise on the river for our guests and everyone is out on the water,” she said gaily.

  Felipe’s arm stiffened slightly under hers, but when he spoke his voice was placid. “Christina too?”

  “Of course. Lord and Lady Sarkany did not go — she is enceinte, did you know? But everyone else went.” Inge deliberately stopped herself from excusing Chrissy’s absence, and let the silence draw out as they mounted the stairs.

  Felipe stiffened beside her. “I was not aware of Sarkany’s good fortune.” he said after a long pause.

  “Leah Sarkany is a most charming young woman,” Inge said blithely, ignoring Felipe’s disgruntlement. “Here is your floor. I put you in with Ivan Sarkany. We are full to the rafters.”

  This time the rigidity of the arm supporting hers was even more striking. She let go and opened the door to the gold room. It looked as immaculate as if no one was staying there at all. “There is a bed in the dressing room,” she said doubtfully.

  “Sarkany can move there.” Felipe said flatly. He opened a dresser drawer, found it empty, and smiled at her. “Indeed, I would say, he has realized that for himself.”

  Inge looked at the s
tack of bolsters and pillows on the bed. They looked as fresh as if the staff had just made the bed with fresh linens, which was always possible. Hers was a well-run household. “I’ll take a look,” she said.

  The dressing room was tidy, but Ivan’s charger and a black leather case were on the dresser top. His clothes filled the drawers. The single bed was made, but it showed the unmistakable signs that someone had sat on it since it had been tidied last. “I believe Ivan is sleeping in here,” she said.

  Felipe was purring now. “That’s good,” he said.

  “I’ll have your cases brought up,” she told him.

  “They are following behind me. I drove my own car and Vas is following in the sedan.” Felipe paused delicately.

  Inge looked expectantly at his face and kept silent. His black eyes bored into her blue ones. He is trying to bespell me, she thought indignantly and stiffened her backbone.

  “He will of course be putting up in the village,” Felipe continued as smoothly as if he had not been trying to charm her.

  “I am sure the hotel keepers will be delighted to have a guest at this season,” Inge said serenely. “Your secretary?” she asked.

  “My valet.”

  “He can take his meals in the hall,” she conceded graciously. “I will tell Francois to watch for him. Now I must leave you. I will see you in the small drawing room before dinner.”

  “Will the others be back from the cruise then?” he asked.

  “That is the plan.” She moved towards the door, but he was before her blocking her path.

  “I would like to speak to Uncle Thor,” he said. “Is he home?”

  His will was like a gale force wind beating at hers. Inge straightened her shoulders. “He is engaged until this evening. But I expect him to join us for drinks, you may speak to him then.”

  A micro-expression of fury contorted the darkly handsome face smiling at her. Chill touched her heart but she only smiled back. He moved to the door and opened it.

  “I will look forward to the dinner hour, Aunt,” he said graciously as he bowed her out.

  Inge walked slowly down the corridor to the staircase feeling deeply uneasy. Why had she never noticed before how manipulative young Felipe was? She contrasted him with Ivan. Thorvald had spent an amusing few days dodging the attempts of young Sarkany to speak to him about Christina. Ivan had been thwarted by Thor’s wiles, but when he had broken through to the Eldest, he had been if anything a little too blunt.

  It was not that Ivan did not know how to behave. Ivan had lovely manners. Thorvald thought he had been both respectful and resolute when he claimed Christina of Severn. He had not apologized for claiming her, but he had acknowledged that Thor and Severn were within their rights to take offense. No, that wasn’t quite right. It was more that he knew he was in the wrong, admitted it, and accepted that he would be punished for his temerity. He was willing to brave Lindorm’s wrath and sanctions, if in the end he got to keep his prize.

  Christina was a prize. Ivan clearly knew it. But as far as Inge could tell, he wanted Chrissy because he was bonded to her. He planned to keep her, whatever Thor threw at him in the way of obstacles. She liked Ivan, and if he was Chrissy’s choice, Lady Lindorm would celebrate their marriage wholeheartedly.

  Felipe’s claim was, however, older and just as strong. Thorvald was right: Felipe needed to demonstrate that Chrissy was more than a convenience. Let him try his charm on her. The girl had grown up a lot in the last year. The dreaminess that had characterized her for much of her young womanhood had vanished. She had matured into a forthright person with a mind of her own. She should have the opportunity to choose between her suitors.

  Something niggled at the back of Inge’s mind, but as she reached the foot of the staircase, there were her housekeeper and her butler with grave faces. She went off with them to deal with the current domestic crisis. She forgot her concerns in dealing with theirs.

  * * *

  The Prospero bobbed at the opposite end of the dock where the sightseeing vessel had berthed. Ivan grasped Christina’s hand and pulled her out of the press of guests waiting to board the bus Aunt Inge had sent for them.

  “That way there is no question of drinking and driving,” she had murmured. “Or of forgoing the wine tasting that is part of the tour.”

  “I should tell Mamma and Papa I am not going on the bus,” Christina hissed as he tugged her away.

  “I wouldn’t take the risk,” he whispered back. “Let’s ask for forgiveness, not permission.”

  The fifty-six-foot long yacht was guarded by a slender youth who jumped up and saluted smartly. “Do you want to take her out, sir?” he asked.

  “Sail west for half an hour, then bring us back,” Ivan said.

  “Very good, sir. It will take a while to get the sails rigged and find Marc,” he warned.

  “Not a problem, Louis,” Ivan said. “Take your time. We are going below.”

  Christina knew her face was scarlet. “He knows what we’re here for,” she hissed once they were in the luxurious cabin.

  The room was sleek and all the furniture had that simple sparseness of design that was the hallmark of a ship. But the fittings were all very opulent even though the color scheme was a subdued blue and white. The bed might be built in, but it was a full double and the tightly made up bedding was silky and plainly custom made.

  Ivan chuckled. “Probably. Do you care? Louis won’t say a word. Not even to Marc.” He kissed her until her senses swam and all she could think about was the heady sensation of being in his arms. “The head’s in there.” he pointed to another door.

  Beneath their feet the powerful motor of the yacht woke and began to thrum. The vessel swayed as it moved out into the river and their hour of delight commenced.

  * * *

  Ivan came out of the head and discovered that Christina had taken advantage of his absence to undress. Her plump loveliness stirred his blood. But he didn’t want to rush this. It might be the last chance he got to imprint himself upon this woman, to ensure that she loved him as he loved her.

  He wanted to take his time to feast on her until she was so attuned to his touch that she would wear him engraved upon her heart until her dying day. She was his. Today and forever. He would tame her so that she could never again feel desire without craving him. He would engrave his love on her heart so she would carry him there forever.

  Christina stretched both arms above her head and arched her back. Her breasts moved as the powerful muscles beneath them lifted those sweet soft globes. The nipples were deep rose and distended as if he had been sucking on them. She wriggled her hips a little and let her thighs fall open. Her pale muff taunted him and the scent of her arousal filled the room.

  Ivan took his time pulling off his shirt. He let the open front frame his sleek, hard abs while he undid his cuff links. She licked her pink lips as if her mouth was watering. His certainly was. He toed off his loafers and leaned forward to pull off his socks, keeping his eyes on her open sex. It was mauve and glistening.

  “Very pretty,” he whispered to her. His eyes left her sex and went to her glowing cheeks. “Very pretty.”

  He unfastened his belt and undid the zipper and slowly pulled off one leg and then the other. He took the time to let her see the bulge distorting his shorts. Her blue eyes were now so dilated that he could scarcely make out the sapphire rings around the enormous pupils.

  He heard her little gasp as he bent over to place his pants on the back of a chair. As he peeled his shirt off, he turned to show her his chest, and then away so she could see the hard muscles of his back and arms, and the dragon blade curled up in the small of his back. Her admiring gasp made his bulge swell even more.

  “I think you’ve teased me quite enough,” she complained throatily. “Come here, lover.” She held out her arms.

  Ivan chuckled. “I have barely begun, sweetheart,” he assured her. He strode to the bed and grasped her ankles and pulled her legs wide apart. He kissed one inst
ep and licked it gently. Christina squirmed and kicked a little. He tightened his grip and bit her lightly on the big toe mound.

  “Hey,” she said.

  He bit a little harder and widened her long legs even more. She covered her sex with both her hands. He smiled at her and brought the other leg to his mouth and tormented it in the same way. “You are too impatient,” he told her.

  For answer, she stroked her strip of pale blonde hair from the top of her mound to her clit and ruffled the feathery fringe on her exposed labia.

  “Does that feel good, sweetheart?” he asked.

  A blush began at her breasts and spread upward to her face. “I’ll take that as a ‘Yes’,” he said, bending his head to begin a slow teasing foray from ankle to knee. He bent the leg he was kissing, so that he could run his tongue along the crease at the back of her knee. She was biting her lip now.

  He laughed and kissed his way along her thigh, stopping occasionally to suck the pliant and succulent flesh. He left a trail of little purple love bites all the way to the juncture of her thighs. Her hands tried to hold his head there, but he effortlessly removed them. “Grip the sheets,” he commanded.

  She swallowed hard. He could see confusion and obstinacy war in her face before she complied and clutched the silky sheets. Ivan ruffled her feathers with his breath and pushed his nose in between her legs to drink in her delicious fragrance. She was aroused and becoming more so every moment. But it was not yet enough.

  He allowed himself a brief caress on the outside of her passage, just enough to scent his fingertips with her aroma and make her squirm. Then he turned his attentions to her other thigh and worked his slow way to her knee. She was singing now in her anguished delight. The sound pleased him and made him harder. He could feel the wetness of his shorts where his cock had begun to drip as her excitement increased his own.

  He took his time getting from knee to ankle and left an archipelago of violet atolls to remind her to whom she now belonged.

  “Please,” she said urgently. “I’m going to come.”