“This place didn’t get set up overnight,” Kayla said looking around at all the equipment. “What is it really?”
“Your laboratory. I built it for you, Kayla,” Roland assured her earnestly. “You are my mate, and I built this house for you. My family never had more than an outpost here on Tarakona — we have always made our home in Finland. But I knew you would be happy nowhere but New Zealand, so I built a home for you.”
“A gilded cage,” she objected.
“Would you like to observe Aidan?” he asked, ignoring her acerbic comment.
“Is he being spied on too?”
“There are cameras all over this house. Amiria and Rongo wear sensors that ensure they are tracked so that video feed of Aidan is always available.” He pressed buttons on her keyboard and a wide patio built of stone came into view. Aidan was sitting in the shade at a wooden table, eating sandwiches with his attendants.
“We can hear them speaking, if we wish. But I am sure we do not need to monitor Aidan’s every conversation. And in case you are wondering, either Rongo or Amiria can initiate that function should the need arise.”
“Huh.”
Roland tapped some buttons. “I am testing the video feed,” he said calm. “Please continue your meal,” he went on when Rongo stood to attention. Kayla could hear Aidan’s excited chattering as he looked about for the source of his father’s voice.
“Yes, sir,” said Rongo. He sat down looking stiff and wary.
“Voros, out,” said Roland and turned the feed off.
“You’ve spent a fortune,” Kayla accused.
“I have a fortune to spend,” he said. “And nothing more important to spend it on than my mate and our son.”
Voros led Kayla back to Aidan’s wing and opened double doors to a suite. A pleasant sitting room with an enormous TV screen occupied the first room. The pale wood and glass furniture were elegant yet casual. And exactly Kayla’s taste.
She looked around at the furnishings in bewilderment. How could this guy know her tastes so well when he understood her not a bit? A set of glass cabinets along the back wall caught her eye and she crossed to peer through the doors. Behind her Roland flipped a switch and lights flooded the shelves.
Kayla’s eyes opened in wonder. The cabinet was higher than her head and each shelf was crowded with small, blown-glass invertebrates. She tuned the key in the lock and opened the doors, reached in, and removed one of the delicate objects. “Where did you get these?” she asked reverently.
“Auctions. Lots of them were made as teaching tools in the nineteenth century. In these days of computer animations, universities can’t get rid of them fast enough.”
Kayla shook her head at the stupidity of selling such priceless pieces of history. She held the little jelly fish up to the light the better to see its intricate details. “They’re perfect,” she breathed. “Of course we use live specimens nowadays — they can’t be beaten for studying. But back in the day, it was these or preserved specimens. These were technological marvels. The colors and proportions were as accurate as science and the glass blowers could make them.”
Roland chuckled softly. “Do they please you, my heart?” he asked.
“Of course. These are collector’s items nowadays. These miniature glass models were created because dead invertebrates floating in alcohol or formaldehyde lost their form and color and became useless as tools to teach.” She gently stroked the jelly she was holding. “Their beauty was an accident.”
Roland was beaming proudly. He inclined his head gravely. “I am glad you like them. I had hoped to please you. It is natural and customary for a dragon to bestow a hoard upon his mate. I thought these would please you better than gold or jewels.”
Kayla picked up a fragile blue-green anemone. “Not one chip,” she marveled. “I’ve never held one of these,” she confessed, “All the ones I’ve ever seen have been in museum cases — and they all had pieces broken off.” She replaced the delicate model and began to count. “There are over three hundred of them!” she gasped.
“They are for your delight, Beloved,” Roland assured her his green eyes gleaming.
Speechless, she followed him into the bedroom where a huge, luxurious bed surmounted by a tall carved headboard that depicted scenes of Maori mythology dominated the room. The deep blue coverlet was crowded with big, puffy cushions that reversed the print on the cover. It was a bed for a sybarite — or a harem! Who had he shared it with? She must not forget that for the last four years she had seen him escorting supermodels on red carpets all over the globe.
Two walls of louvered doors concealed closets and chests of drawers of the same blond wood. “Your mistress left her clothes behind,” sniped Kayla opening a bank of drawers.
Roland peered over her shoulder. Two rows of brightly colored Lycra nestled up to two worn and stretched out black swimsuits. “I have no mistress, except you, my heart,” he rumbled in her ear. “I took the liberty of buying you some new bathing suits.”
Kayla pulled one out. Tags still dangled from the garment. She shook out a red tank with a swirl of black and blue pattern under the bust. It was her size. And the style she preferred. She counted the folded ones and turned to Roland in dismay.
“You bought me twenty swimsuits?” she cried in disbelief.
He looked as sheepish as an arrogant dragon lord could look. “I wanted to please you,” he muttered.
“Thank you. But you must have spent a fortune.”
“I have a fortune to spend,” he said matter-of-factly. “And you are my mate. Whatever your heart desires, name it and it shall be yours.”
“World peace?”
“If it were for sale, dearest, it would be yours. But my gifts are the works of man.” Roland picked up her left hand. “I like my ring on your finger,” he said, bringing her hand to his mouth and kissing her knuckles.
The feel of his hot mouth caressing her fingers shouldn’t have made her knees buckle but it did. He couldn’t be allowed to think he could seduce her with stuff. Her heart was no man’s for the price of goodies. But the sexual desire that had lain dormant since he had aroused her last night — indeed for the last four years — burst into flames at his touch.
When he seized her, she opened her mouth willingly to his and let their tongues tangle in a dance that felt both brand new and ancient as the world itself. How could her rancor burn itself away into raw sexual desire in the blink of an eye? And then she was beyond thought as he lifted her by her waist and tossed her onto that outrageous bed.
* * *
Roland was beyond triumph as he gazed down at his delicious girl. It had been a long and frustrating four years without his one and only darling. But at last he had her in his bed. And they were married. The thought was decidedly arousing. As if he needed his ardor intensified. After last night’s extensive foreplay, he was almost too stiff to walk.
Kayla’s tatty tee-shirt was so thin he could see the outline of her lovely breasts and their swollen jutting tips through it. Her pretty features were mottled with the flush of desire. He lifted the hem of her tee and pulled it up over those glorious, jiggling mounds that he had dreamed of so often.
Her tummy was pale and lightly streaked with lines. He traced each silver scar with tender fingers. This was what his son had done to her. These were the marks of her fecundity. He kissed her there and then forgot about babies, and heirs and sucked her belly button until she giggled and squirmed and protested he was suffocating her with her own shirt.
He drew it off and tossed it to the floor and went after her bra. It was limp and gray from many washings. What did his darling spend her salary on? He had made sure she had a good job with great pay, and yet she dressed in rags. He reached behind her and vowed she would be naked forever before he let such tattered garments touch her satiny skin again.
Her breasts sprang free. His eyes widened and his mouth curved possessively as he took in the pale negative of his Maori tattoo stamped on the slope of her
right breast. Their love had branded her his mate. He touched it with wondering fingers. How could she doubt that they were destined mates when the proof was stamped on her own flesh?
Her dusky nipples were bigger than he had remembered. Darker too. More plum than mauve. And larger than before their son. He had not truly seen their beauty in the darkness last night. Now he looked his fill and increased his delight a thousandfold. He took each pretty nipple in his mouth and found sucking them made his lady just as wild as he remembered.
Her hands were kneading his shoulders and slipping down to grip his biceps. He knelt over her and gave a tiny nip to one straining nipple before unzipping her shorts. She lifted her hips and he removed both shorts and panties in one go. And now she was bare to his admiring eyes. He could smell the juices of her silken purse. She wanted him as much as he wanted her!
He thought he had never seen a more beautiful woman than his curvy little mate. Her bush was just as tangled as he remembered. Kayla was a child of nature. She shaved her legs and pits, but kept her privates as nature made them — lush and curling — the perfect screen for her rose colored labia and clit.
Desire had intensified her scent. The richness of her wet channel filled his nostrils and ramped up his own desire. He pulled her thighs apart and kissed her lower lips before unbuttoning his own shirt and discarding his slacks and underwear.
Her hazel eyes were heavy and amorous. He posed for her, enjoying her frank appreciation of his muscles and his dripping, engorged cock. She sat up to touch him there and cup his balls and he nearly spasmed in her soft hands. He pulled them away before she could trigger his release. Her hands pulled out of his and roved behind to knead his hard buttocks. Her lips were parted and she seemed past speech. Excellent. Her silence was appropriate to a bride.
He pushed her back against the mound of cushions and spread her wide again so he could feast his eyes and mouth on her tenderest flesh. He propped her lush backside up on a bolster and let his tongue lap up her sweet and fragrant cream. She was squirming in no time, trying to bring her knees together to squeeze his head, but he held them apart with his hands.
He nibbled lightly on her stiff little bud, raking the sensitive flesh with the edge of his teeth. She fell immediately into an ecstatic and prolonged paroxysm and shrieked her pleasure to his joyful ears. He waited no longer but rammed his over-excited cock home where it belonged. He let go of her legs and she wound them around his hips and gripped tightly. He began to move in her, slowly at first until she caught his urgent rhythm and responded with frenzied thrusts of her own.
It seemed to take no time at all before the hands that stroked his shoulders were slipping in the sweat that covered his skin. He kissed his mate so their tongues could imitate their jousting hips and together they rocked to a climax so intense that they fell asleep entwined in each other’s arms.
And as they slept, their bodies began to adjust each to the other until they lay so close it was impossible to say where one began and the other ended.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
When Roland roused from his nap, he realized that the intimacy of sleeping with his mate had triggered their transformation into dragon form. He always enjoyed being in dragon. He was stronger, his senses enhanced, and he developed an animal vigor that could not be duplicated when he was a mere, over-cerebral mortal man.
His lovely mate was coiled enticingly around his limbs. Her shimmering burgundy scales glittered fiercely against the deep gold of his own. Her horns were a red so deep as to be nearly black, and unlike the tender horn buds she had had four years ago, his mate now had the long curved weapons of an adult female. Her belly was a paler rosy color and her tail dart as dark as her horns. She was both beautiful and terrifying. A fit mate for a High Marshal.
Kayla’s wings were folded tightly into her body. They looked almost black in the fading light of evening, but he suspected they would also be wine colored when unfurled. He promised himself the pleasure of teaching her to fly one evening soon. But now they needed to return to human.
He nuzzled her long and shimmering neck and whistled softly to awaken her. Beside him Kayla stretched and moaned sensuously — a dragoness luxuriating in the afterglow of sex with her lord. He braced himself for fury.
Kayla’s eyes opened and blinked at him. Her huge snout opened and she returned his whistle coyly. He felt the change in her body as she realized she was curled up in dragon form. Every muscle tensed and her long neck lifted. Swiftly Roland changed to human so that his mate was glaring at a naked man.
She groaned and swiftly her scales morphed and her bones unmade themselves. And his Kayla reappeared as a plump, golden-skinned woman resting on her knees.
“Is this going to happen every time?” She looked in horror at the ruined coverlet and destroyed cushions. The elaborate bedding was ripped as if knives had slashed it.
Roland shook his blond head in denial. “Of course not,” he lied. Because in truth he had no idea. It was not the sort of question he had ever asked of his father or uncles. And he didn’t want to ask it now of any dragon. Too much information.
Roland’s phone burbled from his discarded pants pocket. He ignored his nakedness and retrieved the mobile.
“I have him, sir.” Tane Te Mahuta was elated.
“At the hospital?”
“No, sir. In the helicopter. We got to his room just as a nurse was changing his iv. Hehu noticed the bear was terrified of the nurse and we prevented the switch. The nurse left the room running. I remained to guard the bear. Unfortunately, the fake nurse took poison before Hehu caught up with him in the stairwell.”
Roland groaned. “Tell me we are not littering Auckland with dead shifters.”
“The bear is alive, sir. We got to him in time. He came quite willingly. He isn’t the suicidal type. Not much English, but he may cooperate.” Tane paused. “We left the dead Russian in the stairwell. No connection to us. The dragons we have returned to the bosom of our mother.”
Burial at sea was probably better than anything Vadim would have meted out to his failed henchmen. But the mere fact that he had sent dragons to the ends of the earth to attack Roland’s mate was a sign that the former High Marshal was spinning out of control.
“Where are you now, Tane Te Mahuta?” asked Roland.
“En route to Tarakona, sir.”
“I will meet the chopper.” Roland ended the call.
Kayla had grabbed her clothes and retreated to the bathroom while he was talking to Tane. She came back out, however, wearing a thin cotton robe she had found on a hook. The deep blue-green of the fabric complimented her skin and the simple garment became her better than her own clothes. He was going to have to dress his mate until she came to believe she was beautiful. No more baggy men’s tee-shirts. No more cut down jeans.
“Okay, what was that about?” she demanded fiercely. “What dead shifters?”
Roland smiled reassuringly. “The dragons who attacked you and Aidan on Ngaire committed suicide sooner than be questioned. Another killed himself in Auckland.” He shrugged. “So far there is nothing to confuse or worry the authorities — and there won’t be. Do not concern yourself, Beloved.”
Kayla folded her arms across her ample bosom and just stared at him until he realized that she was neither reassured nor satisfied with his answer.
“I will keep you and Aidan safe,” he said.
“You better tell me exactly what is going on,” she said firmly. “Just how did my son and I get caught up in your stupid feud?”
“All European dragons belong by right to the Guild of Dragons,” Roland told Kayla. “Our Guild is governed by the Grand Council, and the Council is headed by the High Marshal.”
Kayla rolled her eyes.
Roland continued as if he hadn’t seen her disrespectful eye roll. “Our previous High Marshal was Vadim of Montenegro. He was acting peculiarly and attacked some of the oldest and noblest houses of our race. Including the House of Voros.”
�
��What he’s after was not clear to any of us. His plotting started four years ago, but until he tried to have the mate of one of my allies kidnapped six months ago, I did not get involved. After that incident, a number of us agreed that he had to be stopped. We removed him from his post and ousted some of his cronies from the Grand Council.
“I have just replaced him as High Marshal of the Grand Council. Two nights ago Vadim went after you and Aidan, probably in revenge.” Roland put his hands on Kayla’s shoulders. “I will protect you, and that villain will be dealt with, I promise you.
Kayla’s big hazel eyes were round with sudden comprehension. “We’re in danger because you’re ambitious,” she all but shrieked. “I don’t want to be mixed up in your stupid dragon politics. I just want my life to go back to normal.”
Roland winced. “That is not possible, my heart. Somehow Vadim has discovered that I have a son and a mate. When you took dragon you confirmed the truth of his supposition. We must believe that some of the dragons who escaped from Ngaire took the news of your transformation straight to him. If he was willing to attack you and Aidan once, he may try again. We must prepare for another attempt, for he is a ruthless, and vicious criminal.”
“And just how do you intend to stop this guy? And just how many of you dragons are there?” Kayla demanded crossly.
Roland sighed. “There are fewer than fifty dragon lords. And perhaps twenty times as many dragons. We are indeed a dwindling race. But the Guild is still strong enough to bring Vadim to justice. And here on Tarakona we are protected by Maori dragons. My sword bearers are all of your great-grandfather’s providing.”
“And that’s another thing. Is Chief Watatoni really my great-grandfather? Because I never heard of him before yesterday.”
Roland nodded. “I told you he is too proud to lie. I had always wondered why he offered me so many of his grandsons to be my lieutenants. I believe he must have known all about you for a long time, Kayla — and realized from the beginning that you were my destined mate.
Dragon's Successor (BBW/Dragon Shifter Romance) (Lords of the Dragon Islands Book 2) Page 16