Dragon Fever: Limited Edition Holiday Romance Boxset

by Serena Meadows

  The dragon lowered its—his—head, his muzzle and eyes on level with Tank. The huge jaws opened again, and a menacing hiss escaped. More fire licked from its—Ronan’s—mouth and caressed Tank like a loving tongue.

  Crying out in horror and pain, Tank fled, his clothes smoking, his white cast bobbing up and down as he ran. The babbling of a frantic prayer finally reached through the haze in Daryl’s brain, the last wild plea for mercy before the end. “Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners. Now and at the hour of our death. Amen.”

  Ronan reached out a very large hand, talons the length and sharpness of butcher knives, and closed it around Two-Bit. He ceased his prayer as he was dragged toward the dragon, screaming every bit as Tank had. The green eye closest to him stared deep into Two-Bit’s, then he was flung away. Two-Bit rolled over and over across the gravel and tumbled into the mess of garbage cans the cat knocked over.

  Then he was up and running, fleeing as fast as he could down the alley.

  Daryl watched him go until he was out of sight, then turned to the very big dragon who now gazed at her, his muzzle filled with razor points for teeth on level with her face. “Ronan,” she whispered. “I know that’s you.”

  The hand with knives for talons turned palm up as though in invitation. Daryl wrapped both her hands around one of his fingers, gazing up into his face. Her fear had vanished once she stared into those green eyes, and now everything he had said about himself made absolute sense.

  “Your people are dragons, aren’t they? That’s why you can’t talk about them. But why did you come here?”

  In the time it took her to blink, the dragon had vanished. Daryl stood in the stinking alley holding Ronan’s very human right hand. He gazed at her with those same emerald green eyes, his hair tumbling over his brow. Smiling, yet that expression held no warmth or humor.

  “I was exiled,” he said, his tone bitter. “My friends and I. Because of our love for flying.”

  “That doesn’t seem right.” Daryl stepped closer to him. “You and your people can shift from human to dragon—whenever you want?”

  “Yes.”

  “And fly? Breathe fire?”

  Ronan chuckled. “As you saw.”

  “That is just so cool,” she went on with a laugh. “To think we never knew you existed.”

  “And it’s supposed to stay that way,” he told her, squeezing her fingers. “It’s forbidden to let humans know of us.”

  Daryl reached up with her free left hand to caress his cheek. “I’m so sorry you lost your home. But I am very glad you entered my life.”

  Ronan chuckled and swiped her hair from her face. “I suppose that I must admit I’m glad, too. Though I am quite surprised you weren’t afraid of me.”

  “Why should I be? You’re my friend.”

  “But you knew it was me.”

  “It’s your eyes.”

  Ronan pulled her into a tight embrace, holding her against his chest, his heart beating loud in her ear. “I should have killed them,” he muttered. “Tank and his friends. But I couldn’t. I don’t like killing except for the meat I eat. It would have been murder.”

  “Scaring them away is enough,” Daryl said, content to be held in his arms. “They won’t come back.”

  “I’m not so sure about that, Daryl,” he replied. “Tank is evil, and evil men can find courage to face their fears.”

  Lifting her head, she set her chin in the middle of his chest and gazed up. “What are you suggesting?”

  “We find another place to live. Somewhere he won’t find us.”

  Daryl started to protest, then realized Ronan was right. Tank might come back, and if he did, it would be best if they weren’t at the Saint George.

  “Where will we go?”

  Ronan took her hands in his strong grip. “You know this city better than me. A hotel in a better part of the city. Where his kind don’t often go.”

  “But that’s expensive. We can’t afford that.” Daryl bit her lip.

  “Stop worrying about the money. Let’s get our stuff and leave.”

  Holding his hand, Daryl led him out of the alley and to the street. “I heard you screaming,” Ronan commented. “But no one came to help you. I know people had to have heard.”

  “That’s New York,” she replied. “Everyone minds their own business and never sees anything.”

  Ronan shook his head in dismay. “I’ll never understand.”

  “Neither will I.”

  Daryl and Ronan crossed the lobby, their possessions packed into their suitcases. “Sorry, Hector,” she called as they hurried by. “Have to move. Thanks for everything.”

  She knew he stared at them as they departed the Saint George for the last time, but he said nothing. Oddly, Daryl felt a small pang of pain at his lack of a farewell or even a, “Where are you going?” Gee, thanks, I thought you cared even a little.

  On the street, she set her suitcase down and flagged a taxi. It pulled smoothly to the curb, and the driver got out to put their bags in the trunk.

  “Where to?” he asked cheerfully.

  “Staten Island,” she replied. “And while you’re driving, think of a decent hotel that accepts cash and asks no questions.”

  He laughed. “You hailed the right cab, lady. I don’t have to think. I already know of one.”

  “Get us there quickly and you’ll get a big tip,” Ronan said, getting into the rear with her.

  “You got it, man.”

  As the cabbie drove them into the endless traffic, Daryl gripped Ronan’s hand. He glanced at her. “Why Staten Island?”

  “It’s all the way across the city,” she replied. “We were at the far end of the Bronx, and that’s a long way from Staten Island. Tank will think we have to stay in the Bronx neighborhoods due to a distinct lack of cash.”

  Ronan chuckled. “I see.”

  Less than an hour later, the taxi pulled up in front of an ancient hotel that held a grand dignity that Daryl liked at once. Huge stone lions guarded the steps that led to the front door, and a valet in livery and tiny hat perched on his head opened the rear doors of the cab for them.

  The driver named his price, and Ronan handed that over, plus a considerable tip. The cabbie tipped his hat even as the valet pulled their bags from the trunk. “Have a great night,” the cabbie called, waving as he got back into his taxi.

  “Welcome to the Royal Ascot Arms Hotel,” the valet intoned. “Follow me, please.”

  He carried their luggage between the lions, Ronan staring at them intently as he and Daryl passed between them. A doorman opened the door and they crossed the marble floor toward the front desk. Daryl nudged Ronan and jerked her chin toward the valet as the man put their bags down at the desk.

  Ronan put a few bills into his hand and gazed around. “Quite a change,” he commented. “I like this better.”

  “It’ll be expensive.”

  Ronan shrugged, then grinned. “It’s worth it.”

  I really need to know where he got all that money.

  Within a few minutes, Daryl and Ronan had adjoining rooms, and a bellboy carried their luggage across the quiet lobby. “This place has an indoor pool, an exercise room, cable, internet—”

  “Clean towels?” Ronan asked as they entered the elevator.

  Daryl laughed. “Yes. Changed every day.”

  “Good. I forgot to buy some.”

  The bellboy unlocked their rooms and carried their luggage inside, received a generous tip for his trouble, then left. Awed by the two rooms, nearly suites, an open door in between, Daryl ambled around looking at things. “This is almost luxurious.”

  Ronan peered at the pair of king-sized beds in his room. “I hope at least one of them is comfortable.”

  “If not, you can call down to the front desk and I bet they’ll bring you a new bed. Fresh from the factory.”

  Sitting down on the edge of the nearest, Ronan grinned. “Perfect.”

  “And no cockroaches.”

&nb
sp; “You really need to show me one.”

  Daryl shuddered. “No, thanks.”

  She paced around her room with the sofa, armchairs, the big-screen television, dressers, and closet, peered into the huge bathroom with a marble floor. Arriving back at Ronan’s room, she found her courage. “I know it’s none of my business,” she began, watching Ronan as he examined the television’s remote as though never seeing one before, “but where did you get all that cash?”

  “The elders,” he replied, frowning at the device. “Enough to get us settled here among humans while we learn the skills needed to survive.”

  “Oh. That makes sense. Need help with that?”

  “What is it?”

  Sitting beside him on the bed, Daryl clicked the television on. “I guess you don’t have TVs up north.”

  “No. We don’t.”

  Showing him how to use the buttons to channel surf, she watched his expression change from a frown to awed surprise. “This is amazing,” he said, staring at the changing screen.

  “So you have movies, sports, news channels, kids’ shows, reality TV, which is the worst, in my opinion. Whatever you need.”

  “You humans are way ahead of my people,” he said with a small grin. “There are dragon shifters who live permanently among you that funnel cash to us, but they don’t bring us this.”

  “That’s kind of a shame,” she replied, finding a local news station. “How anyone can live without cable is beyond me.”

  Daryl set the remote aside and looked at Ronan. “Do you like me?”

  “I like you very much.”

  His eyes on hers were warm, soft, a smile playing around his lips. “Why would you ask that?”

  “Because I really like you.”

  Taking his hand, Daryl rested it against her breast. When he cupped his palm around it, she leaned into his body and kissed him.

  Chapter Eight

  Covering his surprise, Ronan let her kiss him, the feel of her small breast in his hand bringing that familiar tingling to his loins. Daryl tasted sweet, like honey, and her hands crept around his neck. Gently, tenderly, he parted her lips and slipped his tongue inside her mouth. Her own welcomed his invasion, tangling, dancing with his in growing arousal.

  Lying back on the bed, Ronan pulled Daryl down with him, their tongues entwined. His hands slid under her tank top, pulling it upward as his hands caressed her soft skin. Daryl broke away from him, and for a moment, Ronan thought he had mistaken her intentions. But she smiled down into his eyes, her fingers stroking through his hair.

  “I don’t do this very often,” she whispered. “I want you to know that. I’m not a slut.”

  “I don’t do it often either,” he replied, tucking her golden hair behind her ear. “I’m not a slut.”

  Daryl lowered her face to his and kissed him slowly, arousing him further. Her small, pert breasts felt good against his chest, her firm body in his arms bringing a painful tightness under the zipper of his jeans. Her pelvis lay on his growing erection, a sweet agony.

  This time, when she broke from him, it was to stand up and slowly undress. Ronan watched her pull her shirt up over her head, then reach behind her back to unhook her bra. Her eyes never leaving his, Daryl unbuttoned her jeans and slid them down before kicking them off.

  Her trim, slender, and naked body stood before him. Her thick lengths of golden hair draped her like a shroud, making him think of ancient female warriors he’d heard about once.

  “You are so beautiful,” he murmured.

  “Your turn.”

  Daryl watched him, her tongue tickling her lips as Ronan sat up and pulled his shirt off. Still lying on the bed, he unzipped his jeans, then Daryl stripped them from him. His full erection revealed, his long thick shaft resting against his belly. Ronan saw her eyes widen.

  “Oh, my,” she breathed, staring at it. “It’s huge.”

  “Do you still want to?” he asked, worried now he would be too big for her.

  “Oh, I want.”

  “I won’t hurt you,” he said, taking her hand and pulling her toward him.

  “Do I look worried?” she asked lightly, teasingly.

  “No.”

  Daryl lay next to him, her hand roaming his chest and stomach, her fingers tracing the ripples along his abdomen. “You are so muscular,” she murmured, squeezing his bicep. “Like Sylvester Stallone.”

  “Who is that?”

  She laughed deep in her throat. “An actor. Maybe we’ll find one of his movies to watch.”

  When her small hand traced its way to his shaft, Ronan almost jumped as though struck by a small jolt of electricity. She toyed with it, running her fingers under its head, fondling his hard thickness, then cupped his balls.

  “This is making me wet just looking at it.”

  Shifting onto his side, Ronan bent to lick and suck first one of her nipples, then the other. Daryl moaned, her hand leaving his rod to thrust into his hair. Finding her mound, he plunged his finger between her moist labia, seeking her button. Her hiss of sharply intaken breath in his ear told him how much she liked what he was doing.

  Probing further, he dipped into her warm and very wet tunnel, teasing her into greater arousal. He licked and nibbled his way to her throat, then plunged his tongue into her mouth. Daryl tried to wiggle under him, pulling him on top of her. Ronan resisted, wanting her fully ready to accept his invasion.

  “Stop teasing me,” she gasped after pulling her mouth from his. “Do me.”

  For an answer, Ronan hooked his leg over hers to spread them wider, his hand still busy at her tunnel. Daryl moaned in frustration and pleasure, her hands in his thick hair pulling his face to hers, kissing him with near-savage desire. His rod ached with his fierce need to be inside her, and he gave in to it at last.

  Rolling on top of her fully, his knees parting her thighs, Ronan slowly worked his head into her cave. Daryl, her arms around his shoulders, bucked her hips upward. He pulled out of her, then slid back in on her slick wetness. Her tunnel spread open for him as he thrust slowly in and out, pushing himself in deeper.

  Daryl threw her head back and cried out, quivering, undulating, around his thick shaft. His head on the pillow beside hers, Ronan slid his hands under her hips, lifting them, enabling him to thrust in at a deeper and steeper angle. Quickening his pace, he drove in to the hilt, his heavy balls swinging.

  With every beat, Daryl tightened her grip on his back, her nails digging into his skin, moaning. Harder, faster, he plunged in and out, his pleasure rising, his climax approaching at a rapid pace. He groaned as he tried to hold it back, even as he felt Daryl orgasm again, her cries of ecstasy loud in his ear.

  Unable to halt it, Ronan exploded, pleasure rocking through him, his head whirling under the fierce impact. From his lower gut out to his shaft, the pleasure, nearly a sharp pain, stabbed him. He thrust in deeper, slowly, the intense sensations making his entire body tingle. It faded at last, leaving him wonderfully exhausted.

  Lying on top of her, his eyes closed, Ronan felt her lips on his neck, kissing, licking the salty sweat from his skin. Lifting his face from the pillow, he found her mouth and kissed her tenderly, lovingly. “I never thought I’d be making love to a human.”

  Daryl giggled, her arms around his neck. “I never suspected a dragon could be such a terrific lover.”

  Still keeping her close, Ronan rolled off of her, his flaccid member falling from her mound with a wet sucking sound. Daryl rested her head on his shoulder, her fingers dancing across his chest. “I know it’s a bit late to worry about it,” she said, her breath warm on his skin, “but what if you got me pregnant? What would our child be?”

  Startled, Ronan realized he had never considered that when he came south. Surely, the elders had known we would take humans as our mates if we were to live among them. “I don’t know,” he replied, honestly. “I should think our baby would be a dragon shifter, both human and dragon, just as I am.”

  Lifting his head, Ronan gazed i
nto her face. “Do you think I might have gotten you with child?”

  “Probably not,” she answered, tracing her finger around his nipple. “I just got past my period.”

  Though the word period was lost on him, Ronan knew what she meant. “I would take care of you if you did carry my child,” he murmured and kissed her brow. “All the days of my life.”

  “That’s good.” Daryl laid her cheek on his chest again. “But what if we don’t fall in love, and get married, or mated, or whatever? What will happen then if I have your baby?”

  His finger under her chin turned her face to his. “I would hope we do,” he replied quietly, gazing into her pure blue eyes. “We dragons love fiercely, you know. We’re possessive of our mates, protective, loyal, faithful. We kill or die for them.”

  Daryl smiled. “Falling in love with a dragon is sounding better and better all the time.”

  “Could you fall in love with me?”

  “While I can’t say for sure,” she told him, her voice soft, “but with what I know of you so far, you’re everything I’d dreamed of in a boyfriend. But falling in love isn’t a matter of the mind, but of the heart.”

  “I know.”

  She chuckled. “They say you never have a choice in who you fall in love with. It’s like it’s your destiny or something.”

  “We dragons look at it the same way. Our mates are chosen for us by fate.”

  “And fate brought you here to New York, and to me.” Daryl nestled her face into his shoulder with a sigh. “How weird is that?”

  After a night spent sleeping with Daryl in his arms, Ronan walked hand in hand with her down the street from the hotel. The staff had recommended a diner a mile or so down the street as having excellent food. Daryl seemed oddly quiet since they’d gotten out of bed and showered, and even as they strode toward breakfast, Ronan wondered if something was wrong.

  “You seem quiet.”

  Daryl glanced up. “I suppose.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  She stayed silent for so long, Ronan began to believe she had no intention of answering. Thinking that perhaps she did indeed believe she had become pregnant last night, Ronan prepared himself for that reply.