Devlin

by C J Matthew

  “Muirdris requires each director to have a soundproofed, secured data/com center. We use the rooms for our monthly meetings and the quarterly conference calls.”

  The double walls of his secure room also served to house his personal hoard. His dragon quivered with excitement. Couldn’t wait to show their mate the hoard. Earlier today he’s chosen a small gift to present to her. He forced himself to wait for the right moment. It was important that she accept his first gift.

  He showed her the different spaces bordering the secure room. “There’s a full gym, sauna, and steam room, a variety of game and craft and hobby rooms. And on this side is the theater with recliners. Also, there’s a soda fountain, popcorn and butter machine, several kinds of candy, and a beer bar.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “No wine cellar?”

  Shit. Did she like wine? He would have guessed she’d prefer a specialty coffee bar.

  “No. However, I can have one installed. How big do you—”

  “Devlin, you don’t drink wine all that often, do you?”

  “No, but—”

  “Me neither. I’d get a lot more use out of a fun coffee center.”

  Score. He was getting to know his mate. “Come see the secure room.”

  She hesitated. “Is that allowed?” He tugged on her elbow and said, “It’s my room, my decision.” Our room, he amended in his head and the sea dragon nodded.

  He tapped in his code, scanned his hand. Inside, he booted up the main computer and assigned her a password and ID. He’d add her name to the Muirdris master list of users the minute she accepted him.

  “Go ahead,” he said, “login under your name. Go to Find. Here’s the GPS locator code for the Celtic Magic, our newest container ship. Tell me where she is right this minute.”

  Portia input the code and clicked the menu. The concentration on her face was impressive. “Oh, it’s a latitude and longitude. No, don’t help me.” She batted his hand away from her mouse. “Got it. Trip category: Shakedown. Location: one hundred and twelve nautical miles from Greenland. Brrr. Let’s hope the crew brought their long- johns.”

  He beamed at her excitement and gave her shoulder a brotherly squeeze. “Excellent job.”

  She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.

  At the pressure of her tantalizing lips on his, the hint of her full breasts, surrounded by her alluring aroma, Devlin’s cock sprang fully erect while the remainder of his body threatened to implode with the need to claim her.

  Chapter 8

  Portia

  Portia pressed against the armrest of Devlin’s office chair, straining to get all of her body closer to his. She wanted full contact. Naked contact, now. Still kissing him, she toed off her heels and planted her feet, ready to stand and move in front of him.

  He grasped her hips and lifted her completely out of her chair. Startled, she broke the kiss with a squeak of surprise. Devlin set her on her feet in front of him, then rose from his chair and gathered her in his arms. One arm slid up from her hip to encircle her waist and urged her closer. The other hand wove long fingers into the thick hair at the nape of her neck and exerted gentle pressure to angle her head slightly.

  In almost slow motion his lips returned hers, but this time Devlin took control of the kiss. Well, kisses. He started with short, firm pecks seeming to experiment with various angles. Like his mouth was exploring hers in small increments. Finally, with a low groan, he found just the right position and pressure. His lips consumed hers.

  The kiss went on and on as her knees turned to water and every inch of her burned with need. Still kissing her, Devlin insinuated his hand in the narrow space he managed to create between them and tried to unfasten the decorative buttons of her dress.

  “Zipper—on the side,” she gasped against his mouth. Naked. Great idea. She tugged at his dress shirt, trying to free it from the waistband of his snug pants.

  When their clothes were strewn on the floor, Devlin was naked and she was down to her silky panties, she whispered, “A minute.”

  As soon as she pressed both hands to his chest, Portia realized the motion wasn’t necessary. At her words, he created several inches between them. She took a long look at him and her mouth watered. The man’s tailored clothing concealed a body that went beyond well-built. Muscles like his attested to quality time spent in physical activity and hours in the gym. His strength was damn sexy.

  And talk about sexy, he had a Celtic looking tattoo on his chest. A stylized dragon curled across his left pec, showing lots of teeth and a long, forked tail.

  “One thing,” she said, stroking the curve of the dragon, “to avoid a fight later. I’m not staying here overnight. I’ll be going back to my hotel.”

  He chewed on his bottom lip and she waited for an outburst. Then realized that wasn’t his style. He’d calmly list all of his logical objections. Instead, he seemed to choke back each protest as it rose to his lips, because none came out.

  Finally, he said, “Whatever you want, darling.”

  Darling? “No argument? I’m serious, Devlin. I won’t change my mind.”

  “I’ll drive you to your hotel when you’re ready.”

  She studied his face. Then shrugged. If he was formulating a plan to change her mind, she couldn’t read it there. “That’ll work.”

  Devlin’s entire body appeared to relax. He closed the scant distance between them until her panty-clad butt pressed against the edge of the desk. Then, cradling her face between both of his warm hands, he resumed kissing her. Long sensuous assaults on her lips, his tongue swirling into her mouth and caressing hers.

  His hands slid down her shoulders and her arms until they rested on her waist. Then he lifted, settling her butt onto the edge of the desk. Hooking his fingers on her panties, he slid them off. Insinuating his hips between her thighs, he spread her wide without entering her. He absently rubbed his engorged cock against her wet cleft and drove her wild.

  His hands went back to her shoulders to support her upper body. While his talented mouth moved lower to kiss her chin and lick her ear. He ran his tongue across her shoulder and back to her breast. Circling her taut nipple without touching it. When she tried arching her back, thrusting her breast to his mouth, he grasped both her hands, eased her down to lay on the desk, her hands trapped by his above her head.

  For a breathless moment, she stopped writhing and he stopped devouring her.

  Their choppy breaths were the only sound in the large room.

  “I can’t wait to taste you,” he murmured releasing her wrists. Reaching back, he pulled up his chair and sat between her legs. She gasped and moisture dripped from her.

  Draping each of her ankles over one of his broad shoulders, he snagged her gaze. She quivered with anticipation. Don’t stop now. He raised an eyebrow. “Ready?”

  While he wasn’t precisely asking for her consent, she’d give it to him anyway. If she could manage to catch one full breath. “Yes…I want…you.”

  He ran his tongue along the wet folds between her thighs. She threw her head back and groaned at the toe-curling sensation. When he reached her clit, and flicked it with the tip of his tongue, her hips came off the desk and she cried out, “Right there, don’t stop.”

  He didn’t stop. A few moments later, a climax gripped her, spreading liquid heat throughout her body. She surrendered to the overpowering sensations, found her release, and screamed his name.

  * * *

  Devlin

  Devlin kissed and licked the inside of Portia’s thigh where her skin was warm and unbelievably soft. While she still buzzed from the force of her orgasm, he’d give her time to recover before they went further. His mate’s responsive nature went beyond his wildest dreams. Plus, the woman tasted like nectar.

  Still, she couldn’t be comfortable on the unyielding surface of his work desk.

  As if to confirm his thought, she adjusted her hips. He stood, helped her to sit up. She immediately wrapped her legs around his waist, her
arms circled his neck and she melted against him. Their kiss was slow, and deep. And he discovered slow was just as provocative as fierce and hungry.

  “Your turn,” she announced after the lingering embrace. She tilted her head back and shot him a mischievous grin. “Want to trade places?” she asked, patting the desktop next to her.

  “Or we could move upstairs where it’s a lot more comfortable. I have a king-size bed.”

  She pouted. “I’m developing a real affection for this room, let’s stay here. The sofa looks long enough.”

  “And my turn means I can bury myself deep inside you?”

  Her cheeks pinked and after a moment’s thought, she gave him an enthusiastic nod.

  He returned the nod. “We can do that in whichever room you chose, dear.”

  “Eww, don’t call me dear.”

  “Darling?”

  “Quit stalling. The couch is waiting.”

  In several long strides, they were beside the eight-foot sofa against the far wall. He gently placed his mate on the sofa and she immediately opened her legs. His cock throbbed.

  “Protection?” she asked.

  He retrieved a condom from his wallet and rolled it on. Returning to her, nestling his cock against her wet heat, he braced himself over her and proceeded to worship her breasts with his mouth and one hand. He sucked a taut nipple deep into his mouth and Portia groaned, grabbing for his hair. She settled for scalp. Using her fingernails like claws, she tugged his head closer and he sucked harder.

  “Now,” she ordered. “Inside me now.”

  He looped his arms under her knees, lifted her butt off the cushion and thrust his cock in to the hilt. At the last minute, recalling she was human, he froze.

  “Are you all right?” he asked in a raspy whisper. “Was I too rough?”

  “Perfect.” She tightened her inner muscles around his cock and he almost came right then. “More,” she demanded.

  Yes. His sexy mate was correct. The two of them were so obviously made for each other, they were a perfect fit. He established a rhythm and the more intense it became, the harder it was to fight down the urge to claim her.

  Not tonight. Not without her informed consent.

  He blinked droplets of sweat from his eyes. She was breath-taking. Damp tendrils of hair escaped her braids and spread across the sofa cushion around her flawless face. Her lips were puffy from his kisses and she gasped for breath.

  He needed her to climax with him. Working his hand between them, Devlin slid a finger between her nether lips. As he stroked her clit, her body stiffened.

  “Oh god,” she moaned. “Yes, yes.”

  He sped up, rubbing her, pounding into her. She cried out, her words and sounds were harsh yet encouraging. Clawing at his shoulders, Portia shouted his name as her inner muscles gripped him tightly, pulsating around his cock.

  With a long groan, Devlin thrust deep into his mate one final time. Enveloped in the strongest orgasm of his life, he forgot how to breathe, and he emptied himself into her.

  After a few minutes, he lowered Portia’s legs. And that took all the remaining space on the couch. If he couldn’t lay beside her, he’d stay partially on top. He propped himself on one elbow and lowered his head to bury his face in her neck.

  Now he fully believed the old tales of destined mates. Because, through some miracle, he’d found his. And she was ideal for him. Strong and independent, feisty and assertive enough to keep him on his toes, yet soft, and sexy.

  Watching her lose control while he pleasured her with his tongue, he’d struggled, fought the dragon over claiming her on the spot. Without realizing it, she’d made the first move by kissing him in the very room where he would soon claim her, draped in all his finest jewelry and surrounded by the rest of the hoard.

  But his control held, now he wanted to hold her in his arms for as long as he could tonight. Cherish her as she slept peacefully in the protection of his embrace.

  Before tonight was over, he’d offer his mate the first gift.

  Tomorrow he’d tell her all about sea dragons. Happy answer any of her questions. Shift to his dragon form if necessary.

  His beast puffed out his chest, loving that idea.

  And if the opportunity presented itself, he’d begin an explanation of dragon traditions and fated mates.

  Chapter 9

  Devlin

  Devlin pulled his dragon forward, without shifting. The couch didn’t have enough room for them to lay side by side. So, he needed help, a bit more spatial dexterity, to flip them over while holding Portia. He slid an arm under her, lifted his head and when their eyes met, asked, “Trust me?”

  “Mostly.”

  He frowned. What the hell did that mean? “Put your arms around me, hang on…oh, and better close your eyes.”

  She followed instructions without question and in a split second, they went from Portia flat on her back, to Devlin on the bottom.

  Raising her head, she blinked at him. “Slick trick, champ. How did…? Never mind. Damn, you’re even stronger than I thought.”

  He cradled her face between his hands, guided her down for a long, lingering kiss. Then, with her head settled on his chest, he could play with her hair. He loved the silky texture, the amazing length. Like the ancient drawings and woodcuts of mythical mermaids. He unpinned one of the long, fat braids and brushed the end along her arm.

  “That tickles.” She acquired another braid and hunted for a ticklish spot on him.

  “Brushing my body with your hair is more erotic than ticklish.”

  Using the braid like a whip, she smacked his chin. “I suspect with you, everything is foreplay.”

  “Everything where you’re concerned.”

  Devlin’s iPhone chimed with an incoming text, the ringtone indicating it was from Muirdris security. Had to be someone working third shift. Portia squirmed, trying to get up, and his cock hardened. He grasped her arms.

  “Don’t worry, no need for me to answer. It’s an announcement, probably a change of bodyguards.”

  She knit her brows and frowned down at him. He released her and held his hands out in surrender. “Or, I could check my phone to make sure. Then we’ll head upstairs for a shower and round two.” He waggled his eyebrows at her. “Or round two in the shower, your choice.”

  Once they were on their feet, he retraced the path to the desk for his phone while she stood beside the couch for a moment. “Does your security work three shifts?”

  “Yes…”

  “Which means it’s 11 p.m. I have an important interview—”

  “Say no more.” Shit, just shit. Handing over her panties and bra, he asked, “Before we go, could I tempt you with a jetted tub?”

  “No thank you.”

  While Portia shook out her dress and stepped into it, he recovered his discarded shirt and pants, jerked them on in a hurry. And finished just in time to zip her dress closed.

  Our mate cannot go.

  Tomorrow. I promised she could go tonight. Giving himself a mental shake, he held open Portia’s light-weight coat, the one that matched her dress. “I anticipate a busy day for both of us tomorrow.”

  Upstairs, they bundled up for the cold night. He gave the velvet bag in his overcoat pocket a pat. Our first gift.

  Good.

  In the condo lobby, he waved off the butler and shared his plans with the third shift bodyguard.

  “I’m taking Ms. Sullivan back to her hotel, then I’ll return here and stay in for the rest of the night.”

  “Sir?”

  “I won’t need you.”

  By the time they reached the Tank in the garage, the engine was purring and the interior warmed. He input the address of Portia’s hotel into the GPS and frowned at the route map on the screen. A dicey neighborhood at best. Swiping his ID card, the barrier opened, and he exited the parking garage onto the quiet street.

  There were countless revitalization projects in and around Tokyo. Better to reserve judgement until he’d seen the
place. Ten minutes from Portia’s hotel, the neighborhood grew worse. Then block by block, his darkest fears were realized. Gang graffiti was rampant. Trash littered the sidewalks, unidentifiable thanks to several broken streetlights. Beside him Portia fidgeted in her seat.

  Be diplomatic. “What made you choose such a busy downtown location?”

  She sat straighter and frowned across at him. “It might not be up to your high standards, Mr. Billionaire, but it’s just fine for me.”

  Take our mate home.

  Let me handle this.

  He used his soothing tone. “I’m not questioning your choices or your judgement. I simply don’t want you in a difficult situation you can’t…um…don’t want anything …uh…uncomfortable to happen to you.”

  Rigid, she turned on him. “Talk about insulting. That’s exactly what you’re doing, questioning my decision-making by criticizing my hotel choice. If I find myself in a difficult situation, and by that you mean dangerous, I’ll handle it. Nothing uncomfortable, like rape or assault, will happen because I’m perfectly capable of defending myself or I can run.”

  Fuck. They drove the last blocks in tense silence. Devlin parked on the street in front of the seedy building, directly beneath the gaudy neon sign. He’d escort his mate all the way to her door.

  Damn it. The reception area at the front desk was empty.

  By the time they reached the elevator, he had his arm secured protectively around Portia’s shoulders.

  “I can make it on my own from here,” Portia announced and pressed the button for the third floor.

  He gave her a weak smile and tightened his grip.

  “Or,” she said, “we can stay attached at the hip in the elevator, and while you unlock my door and check the room.”

  “My plan exactly.”

  “I’m not serious. Jeez, you’re much worse than Yori. Quit being such a jerk.”

  Inside the tiny room, it only took a moment to check the alcove of a closet and microscopic bathroom.

  “Feel better now?” She grabbed his elbow and he allowed her to hustle him toward the door. “Good night, Devlin. You sure know how to ruin an otherwise wonderful night.”