by Chant, Zoe
“Do you feel up to a shower now?” she asked, carefully resting her fingers against his chest once more, taking care not to brush against the reddened skin that remained. “Maybe afterward, we’ll find some food—there’s always a chance that whoever owns this place forgot some cereal in the kitchen.”
Gregory grimaced. “I’m hungry enough I could eat twenty boxes of cereal. But I’d rather go and take you out for some burgers and fries. Once we are done with the council, I promise.”
“Burgers? Really?” Naomi couldn’t hold back the sudden, surprised laugh that broke out of her. “I’d have thought that eccentric billionaires dine in fancy French restaurants where they serve you snails.”
Gregory chuckled, then grabbed hold of Naomi’s hand to press it to his stomach. “It would take a lot of snails to feed a dragon,” he said with a grin. “Not that I don’t like fancy French restaurants. And I promise that one day soon, I’ll take you to the top of the Eiffel tower at midnight, so that you can see the city lights sparkle below you like the diamonds of a dragon’s hoard. And we’ll eat snails... or whatever else we feel like, and all the waiters will treat you like a princess. But what I want the most right now is to go and sit in a diner, just you and me and a large plate of greasy burgers and crisp, hot fries, and no one paying any attention to us.”
Impulsively, Naomi reached out for his hand. “I think that’s the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me.”
“The Eiffel tower at midnight? Or the snails?”
Naomi shook her head. “No. You, me and a diner. Greasy food and just the two of us, together. I want that too. I want that diner, and Paris, and... and whatever comes after that.”
Even as she heard herself speak those words, her cheeks flushed with heat. She didn’t even know what she was agreeing to. He was a dragon—and she barely knew him!
But she felt more comfortable around him than she’d ever felt with anyone else she’d dated. After all, he’d fought a dragon to defend her.
Of course, without him, the other dragon probably wouldn’t have attacked her. Still, she wouldn’t undo any of the things that had happened. The night she’d painted the dragon had felt like the last, desperate fight of the part of her soul that had always been drawn to beauty. If she’d lost that part of herself, what use would it have been to go on?
This felt right. Gregory felt right. And as insane as the thought of real, live dragons living among them was, now that she knew about them, she wanted to know more. She wanted to see Gregory shift again.
She wanted to see him fly, the way she’d seem him in her mind that night, effortlessly commanding the storms, wild and powerful—and all hers.
“I want that too,” Gregory murmured, his voice rough. “Anything and everything that comes after.”
Her knees felt weak at the soft growl of his voice. The fire of his gaze kindled a liquid heat low in her belly.
She swallowed. “Shower first. And then... then we’ll take it one step after the other.”
Naomi was reassured that Gregory seemed able to stand and walk without apparent pain. Together, they made it to the shower, which thankfully was still equipped with large, fluffy towels. When they tested the water, it came out steaming hot. Despite Gregory’s protests, Naomi changed the setting until it came out warm enough to be comfortable, but no more.
“I’ll heal either way,” Gregory protested.
“That’s no reason to hurt. And those burns still look like they’ll hurt if you step straight into scalding water,” Naomi said sternly.
In any case, she didn’t mind the temperature of the water. In the crappy little studio she rented, lukewarm was the most she ever got from her shower, and that only if everyone else in the building hadn’t beaten her to it.
And with the way Gregory looked, she didn’t doubt that even ice-cold water would turn steaming hot the moment it touched that incredible body...
She swallowed as she looked at him. She couldn’t even say what was more unlikely: that he’d turned into a dragon, or that she was standing here in a shower with the hottest man she’d ever laid eyes on.
Because he was hot. Scorching hot. She’d seen men like him in magazines, posing for a gym or modeling for expensive underwear—but none of that had felt real. Those people weren’t really part of her world.
But Gregory was real.
Even though he could turn into a dragon.
He might be rich and turn into a dragon and look like he should star in the latest action blockbuster, but he was still Gregory, who’d kissed her breathless in the gallery. He smelled like expensive aftershave—but it was a familiar smell, a scent she’d breathed in deeply when he’d held her in his arms. And there was the scent of wind and rain that clung to him, something clear and clean.
He might be an eccentric billionaire dragon, but he was the most down-to-earth eccentric billionaire dragon she could imagine.
“Help me wash?” he murmured suggestively, giving her a small, confident grin that made her knees go weak again.
Heat gathered in her belly, and she had to lick her lips before she could answer. “If you’re sure you’re up for that?”
His eyes laughed at her. “Oh, I’m up for many things.”
And he was right, she saw when she dropped her eyes a little. He was definitely up.
Naomi grinned. “I’ll take that as a sign that you’re indeed feeling a lot better.”
She quickly slipped out of her own clothes, feeling reassured by the way his eyes widened and he stared at her with obvious desire.
“Damn,” he murmured. “No wonder I was healing so quickly. You look... You are...”
Speechlessly, he shook his head, although his arms immediately came forward, his hand settling on Naomi’s hips.
Naomi allowed herself to be pulled forward until she rested against his wet, muscled chest. She’d never been ashamed of her curves, but even so—no one had ever stared at her the way Gregory did, with eyes going dark with desire.
“My dragon chose well,” he said, voice rough. “You’re gorgeous. The things you make me want to do to you...”
Between her legs, she could feel the trickle of wetness. Everything inside her was tight and hot. She hadn’t felt like this in years—aching for a man.
But then, no man had ever been like Gregory.
“You’re pretty good-looking yourself,” she teased. “For an eccentric billionaire dragon.”
She squeezed some of the shower gel into her hand, and then pressed her hands to the broad planes of his pecs. Another shiver of need ran through her. His skin was hot, his muscles hard as rock.
And it wasn’t the only thing about him that was hard...
His cock pressed against her thigh. It was generously sized, so much so that she gulped at the thought of that entire length inside her.
Still, the thought only made her wetter, her body clenching with need for him. It was like being lost in a dream—or being drunk with need for this incredible, gorgeous man.
Patience, she told herself sternly as she ran her fingers up and down his chest, covering him with the slippery suds.
He was watching her from dark eyes. Beneath her touch, his chest was heaving. She could feel the tension in him. He wanted her as much as she wanted him, with that same, overwhelming desire burning away all reason. She couldn’t say how she knew, but the tension in the air was so thick she could taste it.
But he didn’t move. Even though he’d gone all rigid with desire, he’d let her touch him.
By now, the need to wash away the dirt had become nothing but a pretense to run her hands all over him. The warm water had washed away the ash that had still clung to him. There was nothing but clean, wet skin beneath her hands—and she couldn’t stop touching him.
It was like touching a statue, only the rippling muscles beneath her fingers weren’t made from cold marble. Gregory was alive. When she breathlessly ran her fingers over the valleys and hills of that incredible six pack, he groaned. Hi
s cock twitched against her thigh, and in response she pressed herself closer.
Water came falling down on them, gentle and warm, like rain on a hot day. It washed away the suds, revealing the hard planes of his chest to her once more. Her nipples had hardened to aching little nubs. Between her legs, need throbbed with every breath she took. How much longer could they last...?
Gregory was the first to decide he could take it no longer. He took hold of her shoulders—and then turned them around, so that Naomi’s back hit the wall of the shower.
She gasped. The tiles were warm. Water kept falling, gentle as a summer shower. As he pressed himself against her, she gasped at the way her nipples brushed against his skin.
Then his mouth was on hers, and all capacity for thought was gone.
Her arms wound around his neck. As he kissed her demandingly, she ran her hands over his wet skin, trying to push herself even closer. His own hands trailed down from her shoulders, running up and down her sides as she shivered with need.
Then his hands came forward, cupping her breasts, and Gregory broke the kiss at last—but only for his mouth to trail downwards, his lips brushing her throat.
As the warm water kept falling all around them in a gentle mist, his mouth found her nipple. He sucked it into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue, and pleasure shot straight down her spine, her clit throbbing for a touch.
Breathlessly, she moaned his name. When he looked up at her, his lashes glistening with drops of water that looked like tiny diamonds, his eyes had gone all wide and dark with desire.
“I want you to be mine,” he said, his voice low and rough.
Against her thigh, she could feel his cock pulse.
She wanted it too—she wanted him inside her, more than she’d ever wanted anything. With every other man before, there had always been uncertainty, that secret fear of being not good enough, or the sad awareness that it was just a fling.
Now, there was no doubt, no insecurity. All she could feel was that overwhelming certainty that this was right, that this was everything she’d ever dreamed of—that being with Gregory would be an adventure as wild and exhilarating as riding on a dragon’s back through a thunderstorm.
“I’m already yours,” she breathed, pulling up his face toward hers to stare into those gorgeous, silver eyes. “Claim me.”
She couldn’t say where those words had come from, but they kindled a new fire in Gregory’s eyes. He pressed against her, deliciously hard muscles sliding against her skin, his erection teasing against her—and then something seemed to snap, the tension between them fanned into wildfire by a storm of emotion.
His hands were on her hips. She found herself lifted, pressed against the wet tiles, his hands on her thighs holding her in place as he pushed forward.
She was on the pill—did dragons know about the pill? She was dizzy with need and couldn’t think of anything but the feeling of Gregory at last sliding into her.
He was panting against her throat. She could feel his incredible muscles strain as he held her in place. Then he pushed forward again—and at last he was fully inside her.
An overwhelmed moan escaped Naomi. She could feel herself tightening around him. The feeling was incredible—he was larger than anyone she’d ever been with, but it didn’t hurt at all. She was so wet that he’d slid in easily, and the stretch was delicious. He filled her so completely that she could only throw her head back, gasping for breath as she tightened her legs around his hips.
“More,” she moaned, “more... Make me yours!”
He pulled back with a groan, and then thrust inside her. The friction was the most incredible thing she’d ever felt. The angle was just right—as he kept thrusting inside her, little explosions of pleasure ran through her every time that generous length hit just the right spot.
His eyes were the dark silver of thunder clouds now, sizzling with some ancient power that should’ve scared her, but only made her need him more.
“Be mine,” he said, his voice a soft growl of need. There was something possessive in it—but also something strangely vulnerable.
A new shudder of need ran through Naomi when she realized that he was as desperate for this as she was.
“My Naomi. My treasure. My mate...”
Lightning seemed to fill his eyes. Dizzy, Naomi could only gasp for air. It was as if he was on fire. His skin burned beneath her touch.
But her body was on fire too, waves of heat rolling through her with every demanding thrust of his hips. And then the heat broke, and her climax came crashing over her with the violent force of a summer storm.
Her body throbbed around him. Pulse after pulse of ecstasy kept flooding through her. As she clutched breathlessly at his sweaty shoulders, he buried himself inside her one final time with a hard thrust—and then he came too, the heat of his release filling her while she was still pulsing around him.
Every muscle and tendon in his body had tensed. She could feel the beating of his powerful heart against her own chest.
And then the emotions came flooding in. Desire. Pleasure. An overwhelming, protective need—and wave after wave of love, wrapping her in layers of warmth while she was still pressed to his sweaty body, her own heart still racing.
The feeling was overwhelming. She’d never experienced anything like it before. For a moment, it was almost like that night long ago, when the vision of a dragon had come to her and she’d completely lost all sense of the world around her as she painted and painted, following some distant call...
But then, she’d been alone. She’d been lost and overwhelmed, tired to the bone and so close to giving up on all of her dreams.
Now, she was no longer alone. Everything was new and different.
Maybe she should’ve been scared.
But this was all she’d ever wanted. Not the fact that Gregory could turn into a dragon, or even his money. But being held in Gregory’s arms, feeling his heart beating against her, and feeling for the first time in her life completely and utterly loved—that was something she’d gladly give up her old life for. This was worth getting kidnapped by dragons.
Mine, her heart whispered silently, and she could feel the shiver that ran through Gregory, as if for some reason he’d been able to hear.
Chapter Eight: Gregory
Gregory stretched lazily. He felt good—incredibly good, in fact. He was tired, but it was the good sort of tired that came from having Naomi in his arms all night.
Then his eyes were drawn to the window, and he slowly began to realize that it wasn’t dawn he was seeing.
His dragon was attuned to the forces of nature, and what his dragon felt wasn’t the slow rise of the sun in the morning, but instead the sensation of the sun sinking into the ocean. It was dusk, the half-hour of twilight before the sun would completely vanish below the horizon.
With a frown, Gregory moved his shoulder, rolling it tentatively as he waited for the pain of knitting bones.
There was no pain. His shoulder was completely healed.
When he drew a hand down his chest, he encountered no pain either. The skin should still be reddened, sensitive like a fading sunburn—but his skin was unblemished. All wounds the fire dragon had left were gone, healed within hours when it should’ve taken a full day.
Gradually, he became aware of a steady warmth that flowed through him. Naomi was pressed against his chest, her head resting trustingly on his arm. She was naked, her skin hot against his own—but the warmth that moved through him wasn’t just body heat.
The warmth came straight from his heart, that fiery core within him that was all dragon.
Surprised, Gregory drew in a breath. Somehow, a mate bond had started to form—even though they’d known each other only for such a short time.
He turned his head to gaze at Naomi, reaching out to gently trail his fingers along her cheek. He’d always thought that claiming a mate was mostly a formal event.
The few mating ceremonies he had witnessed had certainly been ve
ry elaborate, and the mate bond wasn’t supposed to spring fully to life until the ceremony and the mating.
For a dragon, the ceremony didn’t only declare two people married, but would also declare Gregory an alpha—a dragon shifter who’d come into his full power, who’d also found his mate. A dragon’s power was immense, and only through the mate bond could he find the strength to bear that power without crumbling beneath it.
For some reason he didn’t fully understand, Naomi had already claimed a part of his heart. He could feel her touch on his soul, the same way that he’d felt her fingers on his skin hours ago. They were one... or at least, that connection between their hearts had already surged to life.
The mating ceremony would seal it, but he was already Naomi’s. No other would ever touch his soul the way she had.
At the same moment as he felt Naomi stir at his touch, a sleepy smile appearing on her face as she opened her eyes, he became aware of a different sensation.
It was like a shadow had touched him. For a moment, it blocked out the heat of Naomi, and his body tensed in alarm.
Then he relaxed again. What he’d felt was the approach of another shifter. But it wasn’t the fire dragon.
This was someone he knew very well. It seemed that the council had sent an old friend to check on the situation.
“I know I told you about dragons and werewolves yesterday,” he murmured against Naomi’s ear. “How do you feel about meeting a griffin?”
***
A short while later, after they’d hastily pulled on their clothes once more, they were standing outside on the patio as before them, the sun sank into the ocean with a spectacular display of colors that lit up the sky.
But neither of them had eyes for the clouds that glowed in fiery hues of pink and purple. Instead, they watched the approach of what looked like a large lion with the wings and head of an eagle.
“A griffin,” Naomi breathed. “It’s really a griffin.”
Protectively, Gregory wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “His name is Jared, and he’s my friend. He won’t harm you. But if he’s here on official council business, he might be quite cross with me for getting into a fight on human lands.”