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

by Isadora Montrose

  “So come.” He encouraged her. “I’ll enjoy watching.” He pressed the heel of his hand over her clit and that small caress pushed her over the cliff. Her body went stiff. Beneath his hands her buttocks spasmed and her sex squirted juices. He chuckled and lapped gently as the aftershocks went through her entire body. The flush on her breasts and neck became more mottled and deepened to rose.

  Ivan knelt at the end of the bed and put her limp legs over his shoulders to hold them apart. He kissed her greedily and began to circle her moist and delicious nether lips with his mouth. Christina gripped the sheets harder and groaned. He made a tube of his tongue and darted in and out of her sensitive opening until she bucked and screamed.

  That was the cue he had been waiting for. Ivan put two fingers inside and felt for the swollen spongy heart of her. He pressed upward and stroked firmly while his thumb flicked over the long exposed redness of her swollen clit. When he had the raspberry primed, he used tongue and teeth to rip another convulsive organism from her.

  She was still spasming when he pulled her boneless body onto his cock and let the thick base rub her over-sensitized clit. Her ripples began again. He could feel them squeezing and massaging his glans. He pulled away, unwilling to be finished so soon. Christina gave a needy moan and tried to grasp him with her strong thighs. But he was many times stronger than she was, and despite her efforts he gripped her cushiony hips tightly and kept his shallow thrusting up.

  “I can’t take any more,” she begged.

  “Yes, you can,” he assured her. He kissed the protest from her mouth, letting her taste her essence on his tongue.

  His big hands pulled her up to half sit on him. They rocked like that for long minutes while he wallowed in the mingled perfume of their bodies and listened to the liquid music he made in her. Twice more her keening cry echoed in the cabin. He was bathed in sweat from holding back, when he let himself drive forward to the hilt.

  Her muscles squeezed the length of him. He bellowed his victorious mating cry into her tumbled curls and collapsed onto her satiated softness. Her name reverberated in the musky air of the little cabin as her arms closed around his shoulders and pulled him closer.

  “I love you,” she whispered into his ear.

  “I will love you with my last breath, Christina. Never doubt it.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  “She wasn’t on the bus,” Inge said to Thorvald.

  He turned away from his mirror and grinned at her. “Should I be worried, my heart? Did Ivan come back without her?”

  “They were both missing. Anna says they disappeared while she was waiting to board the bus. Severn is seething.”

  He nodded and returned to buttoning his studs into his pleated shirt. “Was Felipe watching when they returned?”

  “If he was, I didn’t see him,” Inge said. “François says he rang for coffee around three. And that man of his speaks very bad French and is worse than useless. François says he spends all his time playing with his laptop instead of giving a hand.”

  “Hmph. Why the devil should that boy suddenly need a valet, eh?” Thorvald asked. “Too damn precious to tie his own shoes?”

  “I’m sure I don’t know, Thor. But if his servant is going to disrupt my staff, I shall have to ask him to do without him.”

  “It is your house, Lady Lindorm. You make the rules,” Thor said. “Shall we go down and see if our truants have returned?”

  “You’re enjoying this,” she accused.

  “I am. I never knew how much fun dragon-baiting could be.”

  “It’s dangerous, even for the spectators,” she warned.

  Thor threw his great mane of white hair back and roared with laughter. Inge felt ice touch her spine for the second time that afternoon.

  * * *

  “I’m glad I caught you, Uncle Thorvald,” Felipe said heartily. He leaned back in his chair and smiled easily at his host.

  “And I am glad to see you, Felipe. But you had something you wished to tell me? Go right ahead,” Lindorm was at his most genial. He let his gray eyes rest expectantly on Felipe’s.

  “It’s this business with the Bulows, sir. I wondered if you had any news? Madre and Padre are devastated. Entirely devastated.”

  “A sad business,” said Lindorm shaking his head in apparent bewilderment. “I don’t know what the world is coming to when a dragon from a House such as Bulow takes his own life. A terrible tragedy indeed.”

  “Then it is official,” probed Felipe. “Uncle Reinhardt killed himself?”

  “It would appear he did. We aren’t broadcasting it, of course, in deference to the honor of the Bulows, but I may as well tell you. In strictest confidence, of course. Mind you, I don’t know if this is a tale to carry to your parents. Shocking business.” Lindorm permitted himself a little tutting to finish his story.

  “You are probably correct, sir,” Felipe said deferentially. “Could you tell me why you are so certain? I had heard the German police believed it to be murder.”

  “Mortals are capable of any folly,” said Lindorm dismissively. “But if the Duke was killed, what for?”

  “My father tells me that the Key to the Treasury is missing,” Felipe murmured.

  Lindorm shook his head. “No one but the Bulows knew where that key was kept. And only the Guardians of the Treasury can make use of the words of power that activate the key. No one not of those families can use the key.” He shook his head feigning sorrow. “No, I am certain, young Wilhelm has a traitor amongst his sword bearers. One of them has taken the key and hopes to use it to steal our hoard.”

  “Have you told Prinze Wilhelm what you suspect, Uncle?” gasped Felipe.

  “Not yet. He and his are still forbidden to leave Juist Island. And this is not a matter to speak of over telephone lines,” Lindorm said fussily. “I hope I don’t have to tell you to keep this information entirely to yourself? No need to trouble your parents with it. I am hoping to deal with it quite quietly — without involving the Council.”

  “I’m sure that would be best,” Felipe said with an ingratiating smile. “But I suppose you have set extra guards around the Vault? Just to be cautious.”

  “I have. In fact, you can join their number if you wish.” Lindorm picked up a scribbled schedule from his desk and consulted it. You could fill in tomorrow afternoon from three to six.”

  “With pleasure, Uncle.”

  “Thank you. Now tell me, lad, why you are here ahead of schedule?” Lindorm asked.

  “My talks ended early,” Felipe said. “And I heard that Christina of Severn was being pursued by Ivan Sarkany!”

  Lindorm laughed as at a very good joke. “He does seem smitten.”

  “Christina is mine,” Felipe said ungraciously.

  Lindorm laughed harder. “You better look to your bride, lad, unless you want Sarkany to snap the prize from under your nose. She tells me you have not yet asked her to marry you. Perhaps you had better exert some charm to keep her affections.”

  “The contracts were drawn up years ago, sir. Can we not rely on the word of the Eldest of Lindorm?” Felipe demanded peevishly. He caught himself, and smiled.

  Lindorm laughed again. “You have neglected that girl, Felipe. If she chooses to marry Sarkany, I will regret her choice, but she is after all free to choose, no matter what contracts have been signed.”

  Felipe stood up, he was to Lindorm’s expert nose, in the grip of rage tempered with fear. He bowed. “Thank you for the warning,” he said stiffly.

  “Not at all, my boy. A pleasure to see you again.” Lindorm rose. “I think I hear the gong. Your aunt will expect us to be prompt to table.”

  * * *

  Christina opened the secret compartment of her jewel box. She took out Ivan’s necklace and held it clasped tightly in her hand. It seemed to her that the amber glowed through her fingers as if it was on fire. She felt her connection to her lover as a living thing when she held this jewel. Did he love her? He certainly made love to her a
s if she was the only woman on earth for him. He said he did, but words were easy for men to utter. Deeds alone told the truth.

  After their lovemaking on the boat, she knew she loved him with all her heart. There was no going back. There was only going forward. Ivan thought her family was against their match. Of course, they were. They loved her, but they had been anticipating her marriage to Felipe for sixteen years. It was time she made it obvious that she had made her choice.

  She had changed her dress three times looking for one that would showcase the amber necklace. The fluid, teal A-line she had settled on had cap sleeves and a scoop neck. The silk caressed her well-loved curves, like the brush of Ivan’s lips. She looked sated and satisfied. Her sharp-eyed family would be in no doubt about what she had spent the afternoon doing.

  Her hair was piled up on top of her head so that the elaborate links of the necklace were not covered by her curls. But were on view all around her neck. The amber pendant flamed against her own skin. She checked in the mirror. Yup, she was being blatant. She might as well be wearing a label that said ‘I belong to Ivan Sarkany.’

  Mamma noticed from across the drawing room. Her eyes opened very wide and then she deliberately concentrated on her conversation with Lady Drake. Uncle Sven’s nostrils flared, but he did not come over to her. Papa appeared at her elbow.

  “How delightful you look, my dear,” he said. His deep voice was a warning. “Did you know that Felipe has arrived?”

  “Yes.” Her voice came out husky. She coughed. “Yes. Aunt Inge told me.”

  Hugo Sarkany materialized. “How delightful you look tonight, Christina,” he said smoothly. “The Eye of Sarkany becomes you greatly. Wouldn’t you say so, sir?”

  “The Eye of Sarkany, eh?” Papa growled.

  “One of the treasures of our House,” Hugo assured him. “And I am sure it has never graced a lovelier — neck,” he finished.

  Papa took her elbow and all but dragged her over to Ivan. “Perhaps you have an explanation, Sarkany?” he snarled.

  For answer Ivan took both her hands in his and kissed each in turn. “Thank you,” he said to her. “You honor me.” He looked Papa in the eye. “I gave Christina my mother’s necklace to keep her thoughts on me, sir.”

  Christina goggled at him as her father’s eyes narrowed. She could see him trying to work out whether or not Ivan was flipping him the bird. “Just a little trinket, you happened to have lying about, eh, Sarkany?” he said.

  Ivan inclined his head. His voice was earnest. “The value of the necklace is as nothing compared to the wearer. I could lay all the jewels of our House before Christina, and they still would not equal her worth to me.”

  “Pretty speech,” Papa grumbled, but Christina could see that he was impressed. And her own heart was beating a little faster too.

  “Have you seen Felipe Balcazar Mendez, yet?” Papa asked grimly. “He’s sharing with you, isn’t he?” Papa words pierced rapier sharp.

  Ivan turned his palms upward. “Alas, when I came to dress, Balcazar Mendez had already come down.”

  Papa looked around as if he expected to see Felipe in a corner. “Well, where is he? Have you seen him, Chrissy?”

  “No, sir.”

  The gong rang. Lord Richmond strolled across to her and offered his arm. His eyes widened when he saw the necklace, but he made no comment. Aunt had been playing musical chairs again. Tonight, she had seated Christina between Richmond and Kian. Her cousin was chuckling as he placed his napkin over his lap.

  “You got some sauce to put on that dragon, now that you’ve got him by the tail?” he asked her in a low growl.

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “Coz, I love you. But you’re wearing the Eye of Sarkany around your neck. If I were Felipe, I’d want an explanation and I’d want it to be good.”

  “Do I owe Felipe an explanation?” she asked wryly. “Would you say that he has claimed me by the ancient rules of our race?”

  “Okaaay,” Kian said. “It’s been nice knowing you, Chris,”

  Felipe was sitting beside Aunt Inge across the table, but he nodded a friendly greeting to her through the profusion of tulips that marched down the table. Was he truly not offended by her necklace? Perhaps he did not recognize it. But he had a face like six rainy days when he took her arm in the drawing room as she made her way to the samovar.

  “What game are you playing, Christina?” he demanded.

  Papa spoke beside her. “Hello, Felipe,” he said heartily, removing Felipe’s hand from her arm. “It’s about time you turned up.”

  The clouds vanished from Felipe’s angry face. He bowed. “I was delayed in Italy,” he said through his teeth. “The banks there are still not what they should be.”

  “No,” Papa agreed dryly. “Florentine banking is not all it is made out to be. Come and make your apologies to your Aunt Anna.” He swept Felipe off.

  Christina poured tea until there were no more takers. Ivan moved through the throng and held out his hand for a cup. “What was that all about?” he growled possessively. His eyes fastened on the red mark on her upper arm where Felipe had grabbed her and narrowed. “He hurt you.”

  “Not really. I hurt him.” She touched the amber pendant. The warm energy was pleasant. It soothed her jangled nerves and made her feel stronger.

  Ivan acknowledged the truth of her words with an abbreviated nod. “It becomes you,” he said. “As it became my mother.” He put his forefinger on the stone. “It will protect you.”

  “Really?” she batted her eyes at him.

  She laughed, thinking of their tryst that afternoon, but Ivan was solemn. “I have a task to perform before I can claim you, beloved. Stay away from Balcazar Mendez.”

  “You’re jealous.”

  His hand grazed her hip. Electricity shot through her. “I mistrust him. Have a care.” He kissed her cheek and slipped back into the gathering. She looked for him a minute or two later, but he had vanished.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  “Won’t you take a drive in the countryside with me, Christina?” asked Felipe after breakfast. “I think you owe me at least that much.” He folded his napkin and laid it beside his plate.

  Christina had been lost in her own thoughts since she had discovered that Ivan had not come down that morning. After last night, it seemed worse than impolitic to ask Felipe if Ivan was up and about. On the other hand, Felipe was right, she owed him an explanation for ending their almost betrothal so publically.

  “Of course, I’ll go with you. The vines are in leaf now and the countryside is quite beautiful.” She bit her lip. She was babbling.

  Felipe did not appear to notice. He smiled and leaned forward. “I will have the car brought around for ten,” he said.

  At the foot of the oval table, Aunt Inge cleared her throat. “My staff have quite enough to do, Felipe,” she said tartly. “Unless you wish to tell your man to get your car, you can bring it around yourself.”

  “I ask your pardon, Aunt. I would not for the world disrupt your household. Do forgive me.” Felipe was full of his apologies. “I will certainly send for Vassily,” he assured her. “He may as well make himself useful. In fact,” he rose from the table. “If you will excuse me, Aunt Inge, I will go and speak to him myself.”

  “I hope that you are going to be honest with Felipe this morning,” Aunt Inge said as soon as he had left the breakfast parlor.

  “Of course, I’m going to tell him.” Christina struggled to keep her voice pitched low.

  “Felipe had his chain yanked last night. Let him try to make amends,” her aunt advised. “Surely you owe him that much at least?”

  Aunt Inge was correct. Nothing had actually been settled, and she did owe Felipe an explanation. When he returned and told her his car was parked on the forecourt, she fell into step beside him.

  His Maserati was a gleaming black convertible with tan leather seats. Felipe held the door for her. She pulled her hair back into a pony tail and prepar
ed to enjoy the ride.

  “It’s a little like flying, no,” he said smoothly as they glided down the long drive to the country road.

  “It is.” She was no end relieved that Felipe had put aside his disgruntlement of the night before and was once again his pleasant self.

  They puttered through the sleepy village of Loire-du-Bois. Tall houses with the distinctive brown tile roofs of the region opened directly onto the narrow cobblestoned streets. Most were still fronted by their original whitewashed timber-framed plaster. A few flew bright signs that might have been painted by some wandering medieval artist. Felipe bypassed the big square in front of the fourteenth-century stone church and they trundled past the mill and onto the paved road.

  Felipe was a good driver. He took the curves as fast as he could with a hand poised to blast his horn if he encountered slow rural traffic. The road had been built three millennia ago to accommodate a troop of soldiers or a Roman cart. It was not much wider than it had been then. Not really wide enough for two cars to pass.

  Usually speed thrilled her, made her feel alive. It was as he had said, like flying. But today, something about Felipe’s headlong rush through the countryside sent icy tingles down Christina’s spine instead of excitement.

  “Maybe you should slow down, Felipe. If we meet a farmer in a truck, we’ll go down the hillside.”

  He glanced across at her and smiled but he kept his foot on the accelerator. Chrissy set her teeth and decided not to challenge him.

  “Not much further,” he said as if she knew where they were going.

  “What’s not much further?” she asked as if nothing had changed between them.

  “There’s a little chapel I think you will like. One of those shrines that have been around since the dawn of man.” He sounded revved up.

  The small stone building he pulled up beside was not quite falling down. Its patchwork of stone did seem to be the result of many make shift repairs. It housed a painted statue of the virgin holding her son and was bright with vases of lilacs and daffodils. A couple of candles had burned low before the image but still flickered in their tall glass jars.