Dragon's Treasure (BBW/Dragon Shifter Romance) (Lords of the Dragon Islands Book 1)

by Isadora Montrose

  He looked around and saw the sooty black patch on the wall where his mate had scorched the paint. He had to get that taken care of before the staff were back. Torn bed sheets indicated rough bed sport. Embarrassing but understandable. How the hell could he explain scorch marks?

  He bent over Leah and inhaled her ambrosial aroma. Reluctantly he began his transformation. He wanted to wake his mate and teach her to fly. But that would have to wait. This entire episode was ill timed and with the duel hanging over him he would not be able to conduct his courtship as he would prefer. Right now he needed to get Leah back into human form and get Holden in here to take care of the damaged wall.

  As he shifted from dragon into human, it was as if his change triggered his mate’s, she gradually became a woman once more. Pink and white softness replaced the heavy armor and sleek muscles of a dragon. She stretched her arms above her head and her blue eyes opened to look wonderingly at him.

  Just those innocent blue eyes shyly giving him the once over made his favorite muscle prance upright. Drops of semen bubbled out and slicked the cap. Leah licked her lips with a saucy pink tongue and his cock twitched in response to her provocation. But he had to concentrate.

  “You have to return to your quarters before the servants are about,” he told her.

  Her dreamy expression of sensual wonder vanished. The soft pleasure in her face and eyes changed to fury. Her lips firmed and with an obvious effort she restrained herself.

  “Don't be offended,” he said hastily. “I can't have gossip about my bride and I have to get something done about the wall.”

  Leah looked at the wall in horror as reality came flooding back.

  “What were you thinking?” she demanded as picked the sheet up off the floor and used it to cover herself again. “Aren't things bad enough without you making them worse?”

  “What are you talking about?” Hugo was genuinely bewildered.

  “I'm talking about us,” she waved a plump hand at the disordered bed. “I told you I don't want to be a dragon—and that also means not doing the stuff that turns me into one.”

  Hugo stood before her unselfconsciously naked. He was fully erect and just for a second she allowed herself to feel gratified that this playboy couldn't resist her. Not that she had any intention of encouraging him.

  “We are mates,” he retorted indignantly. “Of course we will be lovers. And you will learn self-control. You won't always shift in your sleep.”

  “What part of 'no' don't you get? I don't want to marry you. I don't want to be a dragon. I don't want to have dragon babies. Besides you promised you wouldn't get me pregnant.”

  “Forgive me, dearest,” Hugo said gravely. “I made that promise in all sincerity. But I was unaware that you were a virgin.” He knelt and took her hand. “I want to marry you and found a dynasty that will last another thousand years.”

  Leah tried unsuccessfully to pull her hand away. “You certainly have the highest hopes and the lowest intentions of any man I ever met. You only want to marry me because I can have babies. But what's in it for me? As soon as I get pregnant you'll be off buying bracelets for some other woman.”

  “I would never treat you so,” Hugo said angrily, forgetting he had quite recently planned to treat a wife in precisely that faithless manner. “You are my mate.” He stood up and lifted her into his arms again. “We have to get moving,” he said briskly. “It will be day soon.”

  “Let me down you arrogant brute. I can walk.”

  Hugo ignored his indignant mate. He had made a discovery. He liked carrying this woman. He liked it very much.

  Leah stopped struggling in Hugo's arms. If she was going to be carried she was going to retain some small amount of self-respect. She closed her eyes so she wouldn't have to look at him, but that just made the smell of him more intrusive. How could she still be attracted to him? She knew, she bloody knew, he was a reptile. And still her willful body was acting as if he were love's young dream.

  She was insane. That was the only explanation for her crazy response to Hugo Sarkany. He was a self-important, insensitive louse. He was not her own true love. And she had better stand under a cold shower until she got that into her stupid head.

  The little mate was more enchanting with every passing moment. Her scent was infinitely alluring to him. Even more than it had been before she turned. No mere male could resist the ripe and fertile smell and the plushy treasures of his precious darling. If he didn't get some relief soon, his cock was going to burst and ruin his chances for founding a new dynasty.

  Lost in a fantasy of slaking his passions on Leah's shapely body, he kissed the top of her head.

  “Cut that out,” she yelled. “We're having a fight.”

  “I do not fight women,” he told her with hauteur. He shook her lightly. “You are having a tantrum, and it must stop.”

  Her whole body stiffened. Smoke billowed from her nose and mouth. Horrified she covered both orifices with her hands and swallowed hard. She didn't utter one more word as Hugo carried her to her rooms. But her rigid body didn't soften.

  Hugo was in agony. His mate made his whole body ache with desire. But her rage and grief made him crazy. He wanted to break stones and raze cities to spare her sorrow. Which was foolish, since her desolation seemed to be her transformation, which he had caused, and which he would not reverse, even if he could. Not for all the Treasures in the Hoard of Sarkany.

  Did she not know she was his now? He was Sarkany. What he had he kept. She was now his Treasure as much as any jewel in his Hoard. He would keep her forever. She would have to learn to please him, that was all.

  He took her straight into the bathroom. She could begin her new life as his mate with learning how to use her charms to serve him. He set her feet on the tiles and began to unwind her sheet. She grabbed at it but he easily removed it.

  “Stop it.” She slapped at his hands. “You leave me alone.” She doubled her fist and struck out.

  Hugo winced as she connected with his shoulder. He pulled her against his fully aroused body, intent on preventing her from striking him again.

  “Behave yourself,” he thundered. “You do not hit your lord.”

  Leah yanked her right arm free of Hugo's embrace and clouted him. She was aiming for his head but she thumped him in the neck instead. He staggered but did not let go. Suddenly she was naked and squirming belly to belly with an infuriated giant. A fully aroused, infuriated giant.

  It was bad enough that he was all stiff cock and smelled like sex personified. But being naked in his arms made her respond to him as if he had derailed her common-sense. As clearly he had. Because she was kissing his neck where a red mark indicated where she had clobbered him.

  This was better, thought Hugo. His mate was settling down. He captured her mouth and softened it with a deep kiss. Her tongue mated with his in a little dance that imitated the one he wished to enjoy with her silken purse.

  Leah became aware that she was being sprayed with warm water from twenty different spots. She opened passion stunned eyes to see Hugo had carried her into the shower room. The water slicked their bodies. Her wet skin slid over Hugo's and sensation shot through her whole body. Her nipples puckered tight.

  He let her slip down his rock hard body, guiding her over his thicket and letting her belly rub against his stiff cock. It should not have felt good to be making out with a dragon, but it did. Her hips were shimmying as if they had a wanton life of their own and were not to be directed by her good sense.

  She put out wondering hands to touch Hugo's broad shoulders and trace the hard muscles of his pecs and abs. He was as sleek as polished marble, but warm. No hot. As if a furnace raged within his body.

  “Leah,” he groaned. “You're killing me.”

  At least he felt it too.

  She bent forward and licked a flat bronze nipple. He jumped as if she had applied an electric spark. His big hands went to her bottom and plumped them. “Leah,” he groaned again.

  E
ncouraged she tasted the other nipple. Again he moaned and said her name as if it were a prayer. It made her feel like a goddess, exotic and powerful. She ran her fingers down the deep furrow of his spine to the flat place at the top of his spine. His skin was just as sleek and his muscles just as hard. When she squeezed his tight buns he bellowed and lifted her by hers.

  He impaled her on his dripping spike. Leah opened her legs as wide as she could. She wanted him deep and she wanted him now. A ferocious urgency gripped her. She used her legs to anchor him to her and pushed off from his strong buttocks so she could add her own strong thrusts to his vigorous pumping.

  The energy between made the humid air seem to crackle. She felt as close to him as it could be possible for two people to be. Their passion felt primordial. All consuming. New. Whatever was between them felt like love.

  Her whole body was tightening in a so intense that she felt her vision begin to darken at the edges. Her climax came in a series of tsunamis so overwhelming that she let go and let Hugo catch her as she floated down to earth.

  Hugo held his passionate treasure close as his own climax rocketed through him. She was limp in his arms and he realized she had dropped off again. He liked her like this. Sweet and trusting. Pliant. Perhaps this time it would last and she would wake submissive and eager and ready to serve him.

  In the meantime he had to get her in her bed and summon Holden to take care of the scorch marks in his room. “Leah,” he said gently.

  She didn't really rouse. She just leaned her forehead into the curve of his shoulder and relaxed more deeply into sleep. She was worn out. Newly initiated. He felt a wave of protective tenderness. He would dry his dragoness and put her to bed. With luck he would be able to return to her before this night was over.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “Tell me again how you blackened this wall,” Holden said. He was rolling paint onto the sooty patch with a practiced ease and he was clearly amused. “In my family,” he said, “We pride ourselves on controlling our talent. Not in the house, for a start.”

  Hugo firmed his lips. Holden was the only member of his household who knew he was a shifter. He had hired him because he could only permit another shifter to get as close to him as a bodyguard had to be. It was symptomatic of the decline of dragons in general and of his House in particular that he could no longer assemble a coterie of dragons to be his personal sword bearers.

  He was forced to entrust his safety to the services of an insubordinate bear. Holden was insolent. Holden didn't know his place. But Holden was a necessary evil. And Holden would have to be told about Leah. He would just have to endure the bear's mockery.

  His personal feelings were nothing compared to the safety of his precious mate. He had after all achieved the impossible: he had found a virgin and he had bonded with her so completely that firelings were almost assured. Most remarkable of all, he had not chosen her for her untouched state but because he found her utterly appealing. His good fortune had to be a sign that his luck had changed.

  Leah was now his forevermore, and warring with his dread of being laughed at by this phlegmatic bear, was pride in his lovely mate. He wanted to shout his triumph from the housetops, even though discretion was clearly called for in this time of danger.

  He cleared his throat. “You mistake, bear,” he said coldly. “These marks were made by my bride in her first turning.”

  Holden was shocked out of his stolid demeanor. “Your mate? You turned Leah?” His eyes were round. “Jesus.” Paint ran down his roller and he hastily put it back on the wall.

  “Miss St. George is indeed my mate,” said Hugo stiffly. “But she has not yet acquired full control.”

  “Jesus H. Christ,” said Holden. “You turned that sweet kid into a dragon lady?” He whistled long and low. “How'd she take it?”

  “Naturally, she is ecstatic,” lied Hugo smoothly.

  “Pull the other one.” Holden tapped the lid back onto the paint can and wrapped his roller in a plastic bag. He rolled up the old sheet that had protected the floor. “I'll eat my hat and my brass buttons if she didn't try to incinerate you when she realized what she had become.”

  “She was perhaps a trifle taken aback. But naturally she looks forward to being the Countess Sarkany.”

  Holden picked up the can and paint tray. “I'm going to deal with this while the coast is clear. But I gotta tell you, Sarkany, that nice American girls don't dream of becoming dragon bait.”

  “You will return. I have another assignment for you,” Hugo said loftily.

  “Sure thing, boss,” Holden left whistling The Stars and Stripes Forever.

  Insolent, thought Hugo. And yet indispensable. Leah had to be guarded, protected. Landor's spite would certainly encompass Hugo's mate. And marriage while he was facing a challenge was contrary to all law and custom. Vadim would certainly overturn it if he was killed. He might even decide Leah was spoils of war. A vision of delectable Leah submitting to the sexual depravities of that evil dragon heated his blood to fever pitch.

  At all costs his bride must be protected. And he would have to give his Right Arm fresh instructions.

  * * *

  Steve Holden made his way to the storeroom where he had found the painting supplies. For once he was glad that Sarkany overstaffed his beach house. There wasn't a speck of dust even here amongst the tools and stepladders and odds and ends. He should be able to easily conceal that he had used the paint.

  He rinsed the roller in the sink and put it back on its nail. He scrubbed the paint tray and dried it before returning it to the stack on the shelves. The paint can he replaced with the others in the exact position it had occupied. He cleaned and dried the sink and polished the taps.

  Only the dust sheet with its telltale drips of paint from when Sarkany had blindsided him with his revelation was a problem. Steve decided to fold it neatly and hope no painting was called for until it was dry. Perhaps the fact that it had been put away wet and was stuck together would be overlooked, or blamed on carelessness.

  Because Sarkany was right. His staff could not know that they served a dragon lord. Too much damned information. Repainting the bedroom wall had been a helluva joke before he had learned it was Leah's mistake. That poor kid. Imagine being seduced by a fucking reptile and waking up one yourself. Didn't bear thinking about. Haw.

  That was the thing about bears, he thought smugly. No drama. When you met your mate, you bonded. If she wasn't a bear herself, you did have to confess. And that might take some fast talking. But you could at least assure her that she would stay a pretty girl. Although the kids would probably be furry.

  Leah was probably worried she'd start laying eggs or something. Jesus. Sarkany was in shit and digging himself deeper every minute. This whole business was going to be comedy gold from start to finish—unless it turned into tragedy.

  * * *

  Leah woke up in her own suite in her own bed. Hugo was leaning over her. He was wearing his blue robe again and had a wooden casket in one huge hand. He sat down beside her on the edge of the bed and turned on the light. He opened his box one handed.

  Lamplight caught a jumble of precious stones and gleaming gold as Hugo began to rummage through them. Leah gaped in wonder at the sight of so many rings muddled together. He pulled out three and held them out to her on his large palm.

  “Which one would you like, My Heart?” he asked in a deep rumble.

  “What do you mean which one?” she asked warily.

  “My Betrothed must have a ring. Until we can get to a jeweler, you shall wear one of these,” he made his outrageous statement sound like the merest commonplace.

  “I haven't said I will marry you,” she reminded him.

  Hugo's lips firmed into a straight line, but he did not respond. Instead he held his rings a little closer. “Which one calls to you, Beloved?”

  She couldn't resist. She tried on all three. All three fit. They all looked extremely old. “What are these?” she asked. “You just happened to
have a stock of rings on hand? How often does this happen to you?”

  Hugo's high cheekbones turned scarlet. “I'm a dragon,” he reminded her his voice stiff and his lips narrow. “This is part of my Hoard.”

  She laughed outright. “Your hoard.”

  Hugo didn't like her amusement, not the least littlest bit. His whole demeanor stiffened with offended pride.

  “Whose rings are they?” she asked curiously.

  Hugo shrugged. “Originally? I don't know. These were all worn by my grandmother. Which one pleases you best?”

  They all fit perfectly, although the ruby was the one she liked most. She thought the emerald was a better choice as it was the smallest, but despite her vocal protests, Hugo placed the marble sized ruby on her finger. “It is fated,” he said as if that settled matters. “Wear it as a sign of my love,” he said.

  His love! That was the first time he had mentioned love. Marriage—yes. Mated—check. But love? Not so much. But it was a beautiful ring. Not that she could keep it. She would wear it if that would make him leave her alone so she could think. But she wasn't signing on for life as a dragon.

  “Okay,” she said slyly. “We can talk in the morning.”

  Hugo looked disconcerted, but he bowed to her. “I have duties to perform,” he told her. He took the hand with the ring and brought it to his mouth. He blew on it and she felt the zing to the center of her being.

  He held her left hand in both of his. “This is my pledge,” he vowed. “I will marry thee when the time is fulfilled. Until then, no hand but mine shall remove my token.” He kissed her fingers and picked up his box of rings and left her room.

  Leah lay sleeplessly running the events of the night through over and over. She thought about how Hugo had behaved. The way he had assured her that he would have the scattered pearls restrung for her. That he would personally pick up her tears and have them cut and polished and made into some bauble to delight her.

  Those were his words, “A bauble to delight my mate.” As if she would forget about his perfidy in turning her into a giant lizard if he gave her a bracelet. He was a raving lunatic.