Dragon's Pleasure (BBW / Dragon Shifter Romance) (Lords of the Dragon Islands Book 3)
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It was probably wrong to woo an angel with carnal temptations but he was damned anyway. What was one more sin on a soul already weighed down with graver crimes?
* * *
Jenna came slowly out of sleep to find Zeke nuzzling the patch of neck left bare by her flannel nightgown. His big hands were pulling her closer to his hard naked torso and his third leg was a steel rod pressing into her belly. She wound her arms around him and lifted her mouth for his kiss.
She was probably a fool to be trying to win a man with bed sport. She had no experience at this, no secret wiles or fancy techniques. All she had was instinct and a strong sense of homecoming. As if this hard-bitten Ranger was her man, home from the wars at last.
She had done nothing to prevent a pregnancy. Plainly she had decided that she was going to have this bear’s babies. If he took off on her, she would have nothing to blame but her foolish heart. She knew he was still recovering from exposure. She knew he was the walking wounded. But every strand of her being seemed to resonate with his. She wanted this man. She wanted his babies.
She had never heard that love or sex could cure mental trauma. Probably because it never had. And yet her inner bear was telling her to offer this soldier comfort. But likely that was just her biological clock telling her it was time to breed. Whatever. She was going to be reckless and gamble on a husband and family, even if the odds were worse than bad.
Zeke’s big fingers were fumbling with the tiny buttons that closed the pin tucked bodice of her thick flannel nightgown. His tongue was gliding gently against hers, tasting, sipping, as if they had all the time in the world. When he got the buttons unfastened, one big hand sought her breasts and stroked them lightly.
He plumped the yielding globes and kneaded them before circling the puckered nipples. He chuckled and lightly pinched one straining tip between thumb and forefinger. A spark shot straight down to her pussy and it began to throb and ache.
It was too dark to see his face, but she touched the hard planes of his face and his kiss deepened. He plunged into the tender recesses of her mouth and urged her tongue to mate with his. Her breasts grew tight and heavy and so did her buttocks and sheath. She moaned rapturously into his questing mouth.
As if her moan was a cue, Zeke pulled his hand out of her bodice and both hands pulled on her gown seeking the hem. He took his mouth away from hers and yanked the nightgown over her head and tossed it away. His mouth went lower to claim the prize of her bosom. Hot kisses rained over the plushy slopes and he pulled the aureoles into his mouth to suck them hard until they distended painfully.
Jen ran exploring fingers over his hard arms, tracing the bulging muscles and wandering back to his furry chest. She hunted for the nipples buried in his chest hair and pressed them with a daring finger. He must have liked it, for he growled and used the edge of his teeth on her nipples. Her pussy spasmed and she climaxed with a squeal of delight.
There was something triumphant in the way he seized her hips and pulled her underneath him. A thumb pushed hard at her clit while the other hand was still lifting her buttocks to meet his sword. He parted her and rammed himself home. He thrust hard and she shrieked again as she came once more. But he wasn’t done. He set a hard and steady pace. His back beaded with sweat and his tongue imitated the love rod he was pistoning inside her.
Jenna wound her legs around his waist and opened herself wider to his penetration. Her world shrank to the electric sensation between her legs. She pressed her heels into the dimples above his butt and levered upward to meet his plunging tallywhacker like the wanton he had made her.
He bellowed like an exultant conqueror. She felt his seed gush hot and wet at her core. Immediately the walls of her channel began to pulse and she shot into an orgasm more intense than the previous ones. Her head fell back and her eyes closed in sleep. Zeke’s heavy body pressed her into the mattress.
Zeke woke to discover his angel was lying beneath him soft and boneless. His one-eyed monster was wide awake and ready for more action, but he rolled sideways and groped for the quilt. He covered them up against the chill of the night, and settled himself close to her heavenly curves. He had pleased her. Maybe even started a baby. He should let her sleep like the innocent she had been.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Zeke was still deeply asleep when Jenna woke to another grey dawn. He was warm under the bedclothes, and sleep had smoothed the grim planes of his face so that he looked less forbidding. But he still wasn’t fighting fit by a long haul. She didn’t know how long he had been chilled and exhausted before he got to her place, but she suspected it had been several days at least.
Why hadn’t he taken bear? It seemed incomprehensible to her, but Zeke clearly hadn’t been firing on all cylinders for months. She had tried to work out a timeline from his anecdotes but it wasn’t easy. Of course, he was limited in what he could tell her about the mission that had gone so terribly wrong. Rangers were part of the Army’s special forces. The guys who handled the deadly, secret operations. Even after a mission was over — especially if it had failed — it could stay classified for decades.
She dressed herself in the chilly bedroom while contemplating the convalescence of her wounded lover. He needed to be kept warm and his brain needed rest. But his body needed exercise and hard work, and while she thought he had labored long and hard in her bed, they couldn’t stay in bed all day.
The radio had no good news. The storm was moving southeast and petering out. The State of Washington was still asking citizens to stay off the roads. Power had been restored to one hundred and fifty thousand residents, but twice that number were still without electricity.
Jenna’s cell was fully charged but still had no signal. Thanks to the generator, her computer fired up but the internet was down. No surprises there. The guys who would fix the towers were the same ones who would repair the downed power lines, plow the roads, get the bridges open, and check on the folks like her who lived in isolated homes. Could be days before she had any way to communicate with anyone.
The Hanover Free Clinic had been closed since noon on New Year’s Eve. Two going on three days since Yakima Ridge had had access to medical care. The residents were hardy pioneer stock who could look out for themselves, but three days was long enough for genuine emergencies. Pioneers were self-reliant, but in the bad old days, women died in childbirth, babies died of mysterious fevers, and if you had a heart attack they buried you.
Frustratingly, there seemed to be no way for her to get to the clinic and start doing her job. Even if she took bear, she couldn’t drive from Jack and Hannah’s until the roads were plowed. And she couldn’t show up naked to a freezing cold building without power or heat. Assuming the patients could even get there. Likely folks were as stuck as she was. Best to put it out of her mind for another day and keep busy.
The pale morning revealed that the wind had sculpted the snow into fresh mounds that blocked her back door and shrouded her windows. Her wood pile was shrinking but she had enough indoors, without having to wade through the drifts to the cord wood stacked by the garage. Although, now that it had stopped snowing, clearing a path to the garage and using her snow blower on the drive would probably be wise.
* * *
She was gone when he woke up. Panic briefly set in until Zeke heard the clink of china against metal. Jenna was making breakfast. He got up, noticing his head had stopped aching for the first time in months. The sweater and socks she had lent him had been replaced with his army issue socks and a plaid blanket. And a bright blue fleece vest that didn’t zip up. Hadn’t started life as a vest either. Someone had taken scissors to a jacket and cut out the sleeves so he could put it on.
He looked in the mirror. He looked like an idiot. A great, hairy, outsized buffoon. He had grown tired of the too small sweater, but this vest was worse. And his own socks were not as comfortable as the pair Jen had lent him. Holes were opening at the toe and the heels were thin. The plaid blanket looked like some sort of deranged ki
lt. He’d be better off wooing Jen in his birthday suit. Except that it might shock her, and the cabin seemed cold this morning.
He thought he had made a good start with Jenna last night. He had pleased her in bed — not that she was hard to please. A little fondling, and the woman came apart in his arms. Of course, maybe she was that eager and responsive with all her lovers. And just like that his gloom was back.
Jenna looked up when Zeke emerged in his new togs, but her pleasant smile died when she saw the scowl on his freshly shaven face. Her flinty warrior was back. He took his seat at her table with barely a grunt of greeting and sat there glowering, waiting for his breakfast. She nearly dumped his porridge over his head, but that was no way to snare herself a husband. She poured his coffee and set his bowl in front of him.
This morning’s mush smelled just as good as yesterday’s. Zeke spooned it up and chewed and nearly gagged. Jen was sitting across from him looking as trim and tidy as always. Her beautiful, plump features were looking expectantly at him. Her angelic blue eyes were innocent and sweetly expectant. He chewed up the raisins and swallowed the nasty things.
He looked down. Big brown raisins lurked like swollen and spongy bugs in his oatmeal. He was careful with his next spoonful and managed to avoid the pulpy fruit. Jenna was eating her own bowl with evident enjoyment. Charming. He should be charming. He conjured up an image of his twin’s smile. The one that made women swoon. He and Patrick were brothers. They looked alike. He could produce a charming grin.
“Are you feeling alright?” Jen asked solicitously.
So much for charming. He was a charmless bastard. Always had been, probably always would be. “I’m fine,” he said as sweetly as he could. He drank coffee. Hot and black and strong. Just the way he liked it. He set to work to finish his porridge.
Jenna was staring right at his bowl where the pale brown, sluglike raisins sat in a slimy pile. He couldn’t read her face. Was she horrified at his bad manners? Did she think he didn’t like her cooking? Well, he had practice doing what he didn’t want to do. Time to take a bullet for the team.
Jenna watched her lover playing with his oatmeal. Apparently he didn’t care for raisins. He had pushed them to one side like a sulky toddler and was trying to hide them under his spoon. She kept her smile to herself and busied herself drinking her coffee.
Zeke shot a glance at her, squared his shoulders and filled his spoon with the discarded raisins. He chewed manfully and swallowed. He drained his coffee and refilled his mug. He drank without pause and gave her another of those peculiar smiles. He really must be feeling worse this morning, she thought.
“Are you up to an omelet?” she asked as she picked up their bowls.
“Sure am,” he said. No one would put raisins in eggs. Would they? He remembered his manners. “Thank you.”
Jen made a note to omit raisins from Zeke’s food in future and started beating eggs.
* * *
Jen let him dry the dishes and watch as she made pastry for the pie she planned to make later. He sat on her three legged stool and followed her with lustful eyes. She should have been offended by the way he stripped her sweater and jeans from her body, but her willful heart just soared with happiness. A gentle humming started vibrating through her whole body.
“You always make pie crust from scratch?” he asked.
Jen stared at him in puzzlement. She nodded. “Of course. That store bought stuff is expensive and tastes like cardboard.”
Zeke grunted. Heaven. He’d found heaven. A woman who baked and who looked like an angel. He had to think of how best to woo this perfect woman. What he said was, “How come you’re single.”
She blushed. Her head bent over the ball of dough she was shaping into a ball. “This is a small community,” she said stiffly. He heard her swallow. “And you?”
“I’m single.”
“Widowed? Divorced?” she asked. Well, he might be a bear, but he was from away.
“Bachelor,” he said hoarsely. “You?”
She folded plastic wrap around two balls of dough and put them in her fridge. “I’ve never been married,” she said softly.
Men around these parts must be blind. “Good,” he said. “That’s good.”
“Tell me about your family,” she said her face as resolute as if she were about to parachute into enemy territory.
“What do you want to know?” He didn’t want to explain about Jeremy and his wives. Or about Clive.
“Are your parents still living? Why didn’t you spend your leave with them this Christmas? That sort of thing.” Jen rinsed pastry from her dishrag and wiped her counter one more time.
“My mom’s dead. My father’s living. He’s remarried.”
Her head came up at that. Her big blue eyes were round and startled. “Really?” she said dubiously. “When did your mom pass?”
“I was just a toddler. Thirty-three, thirty-four years ago.” Zeke shrugged. “Why?”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” she said automatically. “Do you like your stepmom?”
“Which one?” he drawled, before he remembered he didn’t want to discuss his dysfunctional family.
“You’ve had more than one!”
“Three.”
“Your daddy married three more times!” There was horror in that sweet voice.
Zeke shrugged. “Jeremy has a roving eye,” he admitted.
Jenna shook her head in disbelief. “I never heard of any bear, let alone a Bascom, marrying up four times.”
“I guess you do that bear bond stuff here in the woods?” he sneered.
“You bet. Bears love but once,” she told him. “Might as well be our family motto.”
“How quaint,” he jibed. “My family traditions are a little different.”
Jenna’s whole body slumped. Her eyes blinked. She tried to smile but her mouth wobbled. Zeke realized what he had done too late. She was hurrying out of the kitchen and heading to the other bedroom. He followed wishing he had held his tongue.
“I’m sorry,” he said, taking her into his arms. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”
Jenna’s eyes were full of anguish. Zeke felt his heart clench. “I can’t make you any promises,” he admitted, “But I don’t want to let you go.” He bent his head and took her mouth with his.
It was foolish, worse than foolish, to paper over the gap between their outlook on love with sex, but Jenna responded instantly to that hard, questing mouth. She returned Zeke’s kiss with interest. If this snowbound interlude was all she would ever have of love, she should make the most of it. She knew in her heart of hearts that he was her one and only. If he abandoned her, she would be alone for the rest of her life.
But what chance did they have if he didn’t understand that bears mated for life?
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“I need more wood,” Jenna announced after lunch.
“From where?” Zeke asked.
“I’ve got a couple of faces of cord wood in the lean-to beside the garage,” Jen said. “But the lean-to and garage are still covered in snow.”
Zeke looked more sour than ever. “Can you manage clearing the snow?” he growled. Great, now he had to sit indoors while his woman did the heavy lifting.
“If you give me a hand.” Jen headed for the kitchen. “You take bear and I’ll come behind with the shovel. The garage is that big old hillock.” She pointed out the side window where a small mountain of snow looked like nothing in particular. “If you take bear and scoop the snow off the garage, I’ll get out the snow blower and clear the path from the house to the shed.”
This time, she stayed in with him as he undressed. It didn’t feel like any sort of sexy striptease to him. Maybe if he hadn’t been dressed like a clown, but in this ridiculous get up he felt like a freak. But her blue eyes were round, and he could smell her arousal. His spirits lifted and so did his favorite organ. He went outdoors in his bare skin and began the painful shift to bear.
Jen watched as her
big, muscular lover morphed into a Black. He was about as large as Matt or Nick, she thought. Probably a good five hundred and fifty pounds. But he lacked their golden muzzles. His was a dark brown like the fringe of his round ears. He looked ferocious and formidable, without even the illusion of cuddliness. But he didn’t frighten her.
She pulled on her snowsuit and fastened her tall boots snuggly to the knee. Heavy gloves and a warm hat and she was good. The temperature had risen, but was not yet high enough yet to melt the snow. She began to scrape at the concrete slabs that marked the route from cabin to garage. She didn’t have an attached garage because Lenny, who was captain of the French Town Fire Department, thought they were a fire hazard.
Zeke was doggedly breaking a path to the garage. Poor guy didn’t seem to know how to have fun. He was using his massive forelegs to dig out the pavers, changing direction when he hit grass instead of concrete slabs. But there was no joy in his movements, just determination.
She hoped that was just part of his depression and not a fundamental characteristic. Because she probably couldn’t cope long term with a guy who lacked the capacity for joy. She scooped snow energetically and tossed it overhead to form a high wall either side of her. Where the heck had all this snow come from? In the Pacific Northwest, they didn’t get eight feet of snow. Climate change was a weird and powerful thing.
Zeke had reached the big double-wide garage door. He was scooping snow from in front of it, and as he did so, the snow cascaded down on top of him from the roof and rendered his work useless. He backed up and contemplated his task. Jen had never seen a shifter look so intense in bear. But having a problem to solve, and the hard work to get the job done, was exactly what this wounded soul needed.
She retreated to the lean-to to fetch her broom and waded around the cabin to sweep her windows clear. The roof had about six new inches of snow. She figured she could leave that in place. But her front path should be opened up and the door cleaned off.