Dragon's Pleasure (BBW / Dragon Shifter Romance) (Lords of the Dragon Islands Book 3)

by Isadora Montrose

  She ran wondering hands down Ivan’s sleek back. The deep groves either side of his spine felt like supple steel. His body was damp, and the air was full of the scent of their lovemaking. Of sex, she corrected herself. This had been a huge mistake. What had possessed her? She should have known better. By morning, Uncle Thor would have replaced Hector’s squad with some of his own sword bearers and she would once again be surrounded by protective dragons. None of whom would want Ivan Sarkany anywhere near Christina of Severn.

  Uncle Thor would never let her marry a mere second son. She knew that. Even if she weren’t the next thing to engaged to Felipe. Why the hell had she gone to bed with Ivan Sarkany? He was the hottest thing she had ever met, but she had known from the cradle she was destined to make a dynastic match. Years ago, Uncle Thor had chosen the eldest son of the Duke of Estremaura as her husband.

  She didn’t believe the Eldest would force her to marry someone she didn’t like, but he wouldn’t want her to throw herself away on this dragon. Ivan was Lord Sarkany’s Right Arm and heir. But he was his brother not his son. Rumor had it that the Countess Sarkany was pregnant. Soon Ivan would no longer be Sarkany’s heir. He would never be Count Sarkany. Felipe Balcazar Mendez would one day be the Duke of Estremaura, and so would his son.

  She liked Felipe. She really did. And he liked her. Like a sister. There was no spark between them as there had been between her and this dragon. She had no clue why. Felipe was just as tall and muscular as Ivan. He too had elegant proportions and thick, dark hair. But Felipe had never made her heart pound and her pussy quiver. She worried that their wedding night wouldn’t change that.

  Thank god she had an implant. Her family had insisted on that form of birth control, since they were always afraid she would be abducted by some dragon intent on forcing her to bear his fireling. She tightened her arms around the sleeping dragon and sighed. She was such a fool. And she was endangering Ivan. Lord Lindorm’s sword bearers would make mincemeat of this virile body if they even suspected he had shared her bed.

  What had possessed her to sleep with a dragon? She had sensibly confined her previous adventures to mortals. It wasn’t as if Felipe had been saving himself for her. But this interlude had been her stupidest ever. One she could count on regretting for a long time. She was the first dragoness born to the House of Lindorm since the twelfth century. She owed it to her House to marry to their advantage. This foolish interlude with Sarkany would have to be her one night of selfish passion, before she did her duty and married Lord Felipe.

  She turned her head and put her hand over the dragon hovering over Ivan’s heart. She bit him lightly where his golden neck met his brawny shoulders. She sucked his salty, musky flesh. Marking him. And waking him. With a growl he sprang onto hands and knees and pulled away from her lips. He kissed the hollow of her throat and his tongue lapped at the perspiration he found there. She purred at him and he created suction until her breasts swelled and her nipples hardened.

  Ivan made a guttural noise of pure masculine pride and moved onto his haunches so he could play with her breasts. He pushed them together and buried his nose between them. Long fingers twirled her tender stiff nipples. Sensation shot through her body to her clit and passage, creating a pulsing rhythm that made her writhe restlessly beneath Ivan. He tugged both nipples harder and the electric shock traveled directly to her pussy. Her passage rippled convulsively as she hovered on the edge of release. She bucked beneath his capturing thighs and he laughed triumphantly.

  He bent and sucked her left nipple and just like that she splintered. His cock was a huge purple cylinder that oozed. The broad mushroom cap glistened. He tested her depths with two long fingers, pressed upward and rubbed at the swollen spot he found. She came again. And then again. And then he was there at the entrance to her body. He thrust and filled her so completely her heart juddered. All she could do was hang on with her legs as he rode her to a series of ever more intense orgasms.

  At some point, she lost consciousness. She came back to herself to find him lying beside her. His hair was black with sweat and his face was flushed.

  He reached for her hand and brought it to his lips. “Wow,” he said and kissed her knuckles.

  Wow, indeed.

  * * *

  Holding Christina felt completely different than holding any other woman ever had. He felt heart-whole and complete. But that was impossible. He couldn’t have bonded with a mortal woman unless she was transformed. And the luscious female in his arms was a soft and fragrant woman, not a dragoness.

  Surely this sense of connection and rightness was an illusion? He was bound by all the customs and traditions of his race and House to marry a dragoness. That meant a virgin. He pulled Christina’s scent deep into his lungs and tasted her again. Delicious, sexy, perfect. But essentially unchanged from before they had made love. Screwed. They had screwed. He had to remember that. Unconsciously, he tightened his arms around the body he was holding. Christina sighed and relaxed more deeply. His heart contracted.

  He lay like that for a long time trying to will himself to let her go and get up, return to his room and begin the process of forgetting her. He was a fool. He had made the greatest mistake of his life. He was utterly and completely screwed. Christina van Waals was lying asleep beside him and his wretched sword was already primed to go another round with the juiciest, tightest, most perfect sheath it had ever found. Ivan wanted to make love to the delicious witch all over again. Which would just compound his mistake.

  Because it didn’t matter how lovely this woman was. It didn’t matter how wonderful she smelled. Or how perfectly she fit his cock. How perfect she felt to his heart. All that mattered was that she could not bear him firelings. He could not keep her. He had a duty to his House to marry a virgin and breed as many sons as he could. He and his brother were the only Sarkanys left. And while it was true that Hugo’s wife Leah was pregnant, that didn’t let Ivan off the hook. For all they knew Leah would never have another child. The Sarkanys were not prolific.

  He tugged his arm from under Christina’s relaxed body. In the dim light from the open door, her satiny skin glowed brightly. Her scent urged him to take her again. Ivan went into the bathroom and washed his face and used her comb. His clothes were a rumpled mess but he shook them out and was unsurprised that the wool smoothed out. His shirt was creased and his tie had gone AWOL. He buttoned his jacket over the wrinkles, and put on his shoes and socks. He glanced in the mirror. He would pass.

  The hotel halls were empty. His rooms were empty. The king-sized bed was turned down as Christina’s had been. Its pristine sheets mocked him. He needed a shower. The sooner he washed the fragrance of that sorceress off his skin the better. But, even after he had lathered up twice, his nostrils were still able to detect her. She had literally gotten under his skin. No amount of scrubbing or vigorous toweling eliminated her smell.

  In the mirror he observed that a large purple bruise flowered over his dragon tattoo. He touched the love bite gingerly. It was slightly warm and when he pressed harder, it throbbed as if he had been stabbed. Damn the witch, she had branded him.

  He had intended to stay in St. Moritz for another few days. That was now out of the question. He would go to the Schloss Sarkany to lick his wounds and prepare to go to before the Grand Council to declare his Mate Hunt. He could spend his time trying to figure out what Lord Te Kanewa had meant when he told him his bride was to be found in the Severn Isles.

  He was so screwed.

  Restlessly he prowled the spacious suite. He opened the panel that concealed the safe and keyed in his code. The sight and feel of his traveling stash did not cheer him, as holding his hoard usually did, but he opened the leather box anyway and rifled through his treasures.

  A lump of polished amber as big as a pigeon egg winked up at him from its antique box. The Eye of Sarkany was justly famed. It dangled from a chain of heavy rose-colored gold. The delicate tracery of gold that surrounded the unfaceted stone was a rich and ornate
flower, designed to display the exquisite counter-relief carving that lay at the back of the massive lump of amber. He held it on his palm and enjoyed the sensations of the craftsmen who had fashioned this beautiful trifle in long ages past. It had lain on many bosoms, but none more lovely than that of Christina van Waals. He would send it to her as a token of his esteem.

  As soon as he thought of her the amber began to warm against his palm. Light glimmered in its recesses. He closed his hand on it, certain of his choice, and muttered softly until gold light blazed between his fingers. He would have it delivered to Christina once he had gone. She would just have to find herself another wealthy protector. And why did that thought fill him with an icier rage even than abandoning her?

  CHAPTER NINE

  Christiana stared blankly at the bellman who had knocked at her door. He bowed again. “Bonjour, Mademoiselle,” he repeated. “This parcel is for you.” He handed her a manila envelope with one white-gloved hand. “From M. Sarkany,” he said.

  “Thank you,” she took the envelope warily. It was heavier than she expected. “Just a moment.” She went to the console and found him a banknote.

  She glared suspiciously at the envelope for a long time before she unpacked its contents. Her dragon senses were buzzing and warning her. Whatever this contained, it was valuable. And dangerous. But she was no coward.

  Inside was a tooled leather box about eight inches long. Once it had probably been maroon, but it was now almost black. Great winged serpents twined on the lid and sides and writhed beneath the spear of a knight. Inauspicious. The hinges and clasp were made of pure silver darkened and dulled with age. The elaborate tracery on the silver had long been worn away by greedy fingers. Only the shallow outlines of a leafless vine remained. Christina opened the lid and drew a shocked breath.

  On a bed of deep lush purple an ancient golden jewel reposed like a flickering rose. The box felt even heavier now that she had opened it and looked inside. Beneath a dome of polished golden amber, a flower bloomed. Her hands grew warm and longing suffused her. The amber called to her. She put out a forefinger to touch the rounded polished stone and stopped herself with an effort of will.

  What the hell did Sarkany mean by sending this heirloom to her? She hoped she knew better than to touch it. She forced herself to close the box and plunge the necklace back into darkness and weaken its potency. She returned the box to the envelope and set it on the console. Its lure had indeed diminished, but she could still feel its summons. She had been right. This gift was perilous. As soon as she dressed, she’d see it was returned to sender.

  * * *

  “I am so very sorry, Mademoiselle van Waals,” the concierge said hesitantly. “But Monsieur Sarkany is no longer with us. He checked out this morning.” She nodded at the manila envelope that Christina had laid on the counter. “I could forward that,” she said doubtfully.

  Gone. He had paid her off with a necklace, as if she were some cheap whore, and taken off. How dare he? That would teach her to weave fantasies around a chance-met stranger. She had been pledged to marry Felipe for as long as she could remember and nothing could change that. Certainly not arrogant Lord Ivan Sarkany.

  “It is of no consequence,” Christina told the concierge briskly. “I am leaving myself.”

  “I have your bill, Mademoiselle.” The uniformed woman tapped on her keyboard and held out a tablet to Christina. “Just sign here. Shall I send someone for your cases?”

  “Thank you.” Christina stuffed the envelope containing the jewel box into her purse, signed, and crossed the lobby to where Gunnar was waiting tensely. “My luggage will be down momentarily,” she said as she sat beside him.

  Lanky Gunnar’s relief was immediately written on his still boyish face. “Good,” he said standing up and quartering the room. “Theo is arranging for a car.” This was Gunnar’s first time playing bodyguard, and in light of Prinze Reinhardt’s strange death he was understandably anxious.

  “Nothing is going to happen before we return to the Severn Islands,” she reassured the boy.

  * * *

  It was lovely here at the Schloss Sarkany. Spring was emerging after winter’s dormancy. The jagged rocks below the big house were still partially covered with snow. The brilliant white color that had earned them the name the Dragon’s Bones made the melting snow look dirty. In the grounds, the spring flowers were beginning to bloom and the lawns were turning green. True, the castle itself was a little gloomy, but it was home, and Ivan was used to its Victorian splendors. So why was he so restless and dissatisfied?

  He was waking from dreams so intense and vivid that they left him lying awake on his sweaty sheets reliving each erotic episode. Sometimes the dreams were of her. Of couplings so fantastical and draining that they left his heart pounding and his dick on fire. Others were portentous and full of terror. Christiana in deadly peril being hunted by monsters while he watched bound and helpless, unable to defend or rescue her.

  It was ridiculous. He had made his decision. Christina van Waals was not for him. He had to forget her. Then why had he given her his mother’s necklace? To make sure she remembered him and ached for him even when she wasn’t actually wearing it. He wanted to be sure that no matter who was pounding into her she would see Ivan’s face, feel Ivan’s cock, and be left aching and unfulfilled. He had wanted to be sure that no man could ever again have all of her.

  But putting that ignoble spell on the necklace had exploded in his face. It was probably the reason he was having these dreams. He wanted to burn something down or fill the sky with his rage. But he was no undisciplined fireling. He was a dragon grown and would conduct himself with dignity.

  Besides which, he had looked Christina up on the internet and found no trace of her. Oh, there were Christina Waals and van or von Waals by the bucket load. But none whose face matched his Christina’s. As the German in the après ski bar had told him, there was a Dutch supermodel by that name. But that Christina was a seriously emaciated, platinum blonde who bore no resemblance to the luscious witch who had enthralled him.

  He had paged through the graduates of UCLA looking for her. None by that name. No face like hers. He had checked LinkedIn. Another blank. Whoever that Circe was, she had made herself invisible. Perhaps she was no more than a mirage. Certainly she was not for him, even if she could be located.

  How he envied Hugo his bride. His brother had found the perfect woman in Leah St. George. The perfect relationship. Ivan didn’t covet his voluptuous sister-in-law. Despite her lush beauty, his feelings for Leah were not in any way sexual. She was Hugo’s mate and therefore Ivan owed her the same duties he owed the Eldest of his House. But just as duty was not why he put his obligations to his only brother above his own happiness, so duty did not explain the affection he felt for Leah.

  He was certain, that should the need arise, he would as willingly die for his sister-in-law as for Hugo. Just as he had always had his brother’s back, and Hugo his, he now had a sister to serve and protect. It had come as a great surprise to discover how much he had enjoyed this expansion of his family. When Leah and Hugo’s fireling was born, he would be an uncle. There was pride and satisfaction in the very idea.

  Surely, looking forward to his own marriage and children should fill him with the same pleasurable anticipation? Except what he felt was soul-destroying dread. It was weird not to be able to take his troubles to his older brother as he had always done. But he could not. If Hugo learned of his misgivings, he would advise Ivan to cancel his declaration and pursue his heart’s desire. But the House of Sarkany could not afford for Ivan to indulge a sterile passion and forgo firelings. This had to be his solitary burden.

  Dragon lore claimed that transforming a virgin into a dragoness created a bond that went both ways. Perhaps it did. He had to pray it was true. In his deepest heart, he had never really believed it. But even if he had to endure this pain for the rest of his days, he could not veer from his course. The future of the House of Sarkany depended on him h
aving a fertile mate. Luscious, athletic, sexy Christina would simply have to be a tormenting memory.

  * * *

  “What’s wrong with Ivan?” Leah Sarkany asked her husband.

  “Nothing, as far as I know,” Hugo, Lord Sarkany replied. He returned his attention to inspecting his treasure. “I think that was a foot,” he said with masculine satisfaction as a bump shifted on his wife’s pregnant belly and poked at his wandering hands.

  “Probably. That kid is playing football with my lungs,” Leah returned.

  Hugo rubbed the spot where the bulge had formed. His big hands slid slickly in the coconut oil he was lavishing on Leah’s naked abdomen. “He is always awake at this time of day,” he said pleased. “He will be a strong lad.”

  “He might be a girl,” Leah objected, sitting up.

  Hugo kissed her belly and his laughter rumbled through her. He lifted his head and gave his wife’s mouth a lingering kiss. “If we have a daughter, it will be the first one born in a thousand years to the House of Sarkany. I wouldn’t paint the nursery pink just yet.”

  Leah chuckled and put one hand on her husband’s face. “About Ivan,” she began.

  Hugo kissed her palm. “He’s twitchy,” he said. “It’s a huge thing to declare a Mate Hunt before the Council. It’s a total commitment. Every dragon in the Guild will begin looking for a virgin for him, and he will have to pick one. Once you declare, you cannot honorably withdraw.”

  “If he doesn’t want to get married, maybe he shouldn’t go looking,” Leah said sensibly.

  Hugo moved his slippery hands from her stomach to her breasts and began to massage one gently.