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Dragon's Possession (BBW / Dragon Shifter Romance) (Lords of the Dragon Islands Book 4)

Page 23

by Isadora Montrose


  She advanced on the pile of carrion. In dragon it smelled stronger of course, but not as vile. Weird.

  “Hang on a second, Theo,” Lars said. “We better divide these up. Nicole may need multiple tries to figure out how best to work that plasma energy.” He began to separate the pile of rotting critters with the rake.

  “Breathe first,” instructed Theo. “Don’t think about it. Just give it a blast.”

  Nicole breathed out. She could see the long tongue of flame extending ten feet or more towards the fish she was aiming at. She stopped the fire after a single exhalation. There was a brief smell of roasting fish and then a pile of ash. Lars whistled.

  “Let’s try you from further back,” Theo said. He turned to Lars. “Double the distance?”

  “Sure.”

  Nicole backed up on the beach. She had to hold her tail proud of the sand in order to walk in reverse. She didn’t feel as balanced on shifting sand. When she had taken dragon out on the grasslands, she had spent very little time on land. But the men did not seem to be thinking she was clumsy, they were edging away from her as if she were very dangerous.

  “And go,” Theo said.

  This time she had to breathe a little harder to reach the decaying seagull she was aiming at. But it too exploded into blue flames and burnt to a cinder in seconds.

  “Let’s see how she does with just a touch,” Lars said. “We don’t want to use up all our test material. And I can’t imagine she would have to immolate anything from a hundred feet.”

  “Sure.” Theo turned back to Nicole who was standing on the sand feeling shocked by her own power. “What would happen if you touched me, now?”

  Of course, Nicole couldn’t answer him in dragon. But she took a step backward. Aside from Matteo, she had never touched a living thing while she was morphed. Matteo had not been hurt in any way, but she was far more revved up today. Breathing fire was exhilarating. It was as though this training was making her into a pyromaniac. The rush and the desire to keep setting fires frightened her even though she did not want to stop.

  Lars seemed to be aware of what she was feeling. His voice was low and reassuring. “Let’s start by having you put your snout on a log.” He moved a four-foot piece of driftwood so it stood apart from the rest of the dry timber. “Go. Imagine that you wish to destroy the log.”

  She felt clumsy waddling up to the driftwood and bending over to touch it with her muzzle. She was surprised to discover that she knew exactly where the end of her nose was. But she did. She imagined the log igniting and fire moving along its length. But before she could actually touch it, the log didn’t so much burst into flame as it transformed into a line of black cinders. Nicole leapt backwards in surprise and overbalanced onto the sand.

  “She didn’t touch it, did she?” Theo’s voice was exultant.

  “I couldn’t be sure,” Lars said. “It happened too fast to see.”

  “Well, let’s see how far away she has to be,” Theo said. “I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

  It was a long, grueling morning on the beach. It wasn’t as much fun as flying was. But it was exciting. It turned out that Nicole could reduce even wet seaweed to a charred lump in a nanosecond by directing any part of her body towards it. She didn’t have great control, but Theo and Lars seemed to be convinced she could develop some. She had expected that they too would take dragon, but the sun was very high in the sky by the time she had tested her ability to throw plasma to their satisfaction.

  “I think that’s enough for today,” Lars said. “I think Nicole’s tiring. Aren’t you?”

  He was right. Part of her felt cheered that he recognized her fatigue. And another part felt deeply irritated that he presumed to speak for her. Of course, she had no tongue in dragoness. She realized that her crankiness, and her desire to breathe fire, had sent her into an emotional turmoil fiercer than anything she had ever experienced before. On the one hand she felt strong, almost omnipotent. On the other she felt an unreasonable antagonism towards both men that she couldn’t seem to turn off.

  “I think she should go out into the water, and see what happens if she tries that plasma trick when she’s wet,” Theo said. “And then we should break for the day.”

  What happened to seaweed when she was breathing underwater, was that it shriveled but did not turn to ash. Nicole waddled out of the water and up to where she had left her spare clothes. The men looked out to sea and left her to put her clothes on in decent privacy. Not that she cared particularly at this moment if they watched her. She felt invincible. Let those sorry fools look. She was invulnerable.

  Her feeling of power lasted even after she had thrown on the clothes she had brought.

  “I told you she was strong,” Lars bragged to Theo.

  “That’s something of an understatement. How are you feeling, Nicole?” Theo asked.

  “Like I want to kill something,” she said through her teeth. Them for a start. She didn’t know which shocked her more, her feelings or her words.

  The men laughed. “Not that we want you to act on it, or anything like that, but that’s how the first day of training takes you. You’ll have to learn to control that emotion, just as you control your talent. The two are wrapped up together,” Lars explained. “Usually, we take firelings out to a training base, so they can work off their aggression. But usually training starts at puberty, when everyone has more trouble controlling their emotions. You’ll have to figure out how to calm yourself down.”

  “Don’t patronize me,” she snapped.

  “It’s the adrenaline,” said Theo calmly. “It makes you angry, twitchy, and unreasonable.”

  “For someone who is afraid of my talent, you’re awfully opinionated,” Nicole said.

  “If you want to have a fight,” Theo said, “you’ll have to have it with your husband. I don’t fight with women.”

  With difficulty, Nicole suppressed both her inclination to roar, and her desire to see if she could breathe fire in human form.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  “Where is Matteo?” demanded Nicole fiercely.

  “Last I heard, George had taken him to look at the reef. He said he’d have the boy back for supper. Why?” Lars brought them both glasses of water from the fridge.

  She drank hers in one swallow.

  “Shall we have our showers and clean up before we start dinner?” he asked.

  Nicole answered Lars by grabbing his big arms and hauling his mouth down to hers. “Kiss me,” she demanded.

  As if her ferocity had ignited his passion, he responded with a searing meshing of mouths that was as unlike his usual teasing tenderness as her sudden ardent craving was unlike her usual mild yearning. His tongue danced along hers, curling and commanding her response. She seized it and sucked hard. He fought her for the kiss, picking her up and carrying her to his room.

  Lars slammed the door shut with his foot. “You are my wife,” he declared, his blue eyes hot.

  “You are my husband.” Nicole was equally primal.

  He tossed her onto his bed and laughed when she bounced. He ripped his shirt off before he followed her down. His mouth slammed back onto hers and grappled for her tongue. His intense rhythm made the pulsing arousal in her veins throb harder. All the blood in her body pooled in her clit. He had barely touched her and she was already insatiable.

  His skin was damp, his pecs rigid, his nipples puckered into tight hard coins. She closed her eyes the better to enjoy his powerful kiss. Her hands explored his broad chest. His breath hitched and he stole hers. His big hands were wrestling with her jeans. She wrenched his pants open and cupped his package with hands that trembled.

  Lars finally got her pants off. He went after her panties. He cupped her sex with a hand that burned. He squeezed her bush and the clit hidden below. His touch set off fireworks in her sex. Waves of intense pleasure radiated from her clit through her whole body.

  “You’re soaking wet,” he groaned, tearing his lips from hers
. He left her pussy aching with loneliness as his hands yanked his jeans and boxers down his hips. And then he was back, shaping her hips, brushing the backs of his hands between her legs to caress the throbbing juiciness of her sex. Building her excitement again. This felt like a whole new experience.

  “Hurry up,” she urged him.

  Lars lifted her by the buttocks and knelt between her legs. He pulled her towards his cock. Nicole opened her eyes to see a massive purple organ heading for her vagina. He tested her with a finger. “Now?” he asked.

  “Now,” she yelped. She bucked in his hands.

  “I can feel you coming,” he announced proudly before he thrust into her.

  What should have assuaged the fierce heat of her quaking passage, ratcheted up her desire another couple of notches. He pulled back. She wound her legs around his hips and clutched, demanding his return. He lunged again and again. She gripped him harder and pressed her heels into his tight buttocks.

  Her sheath began to spasm again. Her little muscles held him in place where she wanted him. But Lars did not stop. He kept going. Pumping in and out. Her convulsions kept going in waves that got stronger and stronger. When her legs slipped from his hips in simple weariness, he stiffened. His release was a scalding gush at her core and a bellow that echoed in the room.

  A long while later she roused herself. Her T-shirt was clinging to her breasts and belly. Lars’ hip was sticking to hers.

  “I didn’t use a condom.” His voice was an odd blend of regret and pride.

  She tried to care that they might have made a child. But she had gone beyond worrying about such things. “It was only once,” she pointed out languidly.

  He laughed. His nose buried itself in the sweaty juncture of her neck and shoulder and inhaled. “If you aren’t pregnant, I’m a monkey,” he said complacently.

  “How can you tell?” she asked lazily.

  “Trust me, I know what you usually smell like. This is different.” He buried his nose again. “Riper.” His hand kneaded her belly tenderly. “Better.”

  “You’re pleased?” Nicole rose up on one elbow to look at his face.

  Lars was grinning with feral masculine satisfaction. “That my wife is going to have my child? Of course.”

  “We’re not really married,” she said trying to be sensible.

  He laughed harder. “We really are married, Dragoness. And if you have forgotten just how married, I will have to show you all over again.” He covered her body with his, but now his hands were less urgent when they fondled her satiated flesh.

  And despite Nicole’s sense of total repletion, her arousal surged back. She swung herself on top of him. He growled and pushed his hands under her T-shirt. Fabric ripped. Her bra disappeared. His big hands plumped her breasts, his face rose up so he could take one stiff nipple in his mouth. The sensation spread in glorious ripples from the tight tip to the whole fleshy globe. Lightning flashed directly to her pussy.

  He milked the areola with a violent tongue, growling around the maddened nubbin. Nicole could barely breathe until he let go to feast on the other side. Between them the hot and musky aroma of her desire rose up in fresh waves. At that moment, the scent of their mingled sweat and spunk was the sexiest of perfumes. She took her pleasure by riding the rippling firmness of his abs. He growled louder and clutched her hips to raise her up and place her sex directly over his already engorged cock.

  His hands urged her to a faster pace. His mouth continued to devour her breasts. Abruptly she wanted him back inside. She lifted herself onto her knees, seized his equipment and lowered her swollen sex onto it. The relief was short-lived. Her pussy wanted more. He let her breast fall out of his mouth as his head fell back.

  His hand brushed her bush. He pressed lightly on her clit and kept up a pulsing rhythm that matched her canter. His hips bucked. His thumb tapped. Her body wound tighter and tighter. “I’ve got you,” he said.

  He had her? Nicole laughed at his audacity. She had him. She clenched her passage one last time, he rose a foot off the bed and they flew together to a place where their souls could soar together.

  “Matt will be home soon. We should shower,” he said. The sun was slanting through the window.

  Nicole sat up. “What time is it?”

  “Nearly five. Come on, we’ll shower together.” He sprang off the bed and reached for her hand.

  Nicole felt abruptly shy. Her violent passion had passed. She touched her stomach. “Did you mean it, when you said I was pregnant?”

  He hugged her shoulders. “Yup.” He sniffed her. His eyes searched her face. Before her eyes his happiness vanished. His eyes lost their sparkle. “You’re not pleased.”

  “It’s a lot to take in. And there’s so much hanging over us, it seems feckless,” she explained.

  “Feckless?”

  “Rash, unwise. Foolish.”

  “You are my mate, Nicole. Our child will be loved,” he said. But his eyes were still flat.

  “Yes.” Unless they were killed by those Russians. “I just wish this business wasn’t hanging over us.”

  “Agreed. Now shall we take that shower?” he asked. But his playfulness had been replaced by a sort of grim resolution.

  Nicole pretended she didn’t notice. She let him soap her and soaped him in return. But it was obvious that in rejecting their child, she had rejected him. This was not wounded masculine pride but despondency. As if he feared she did not love him. But he was the one that had told her he was still in love with Annalise. Only was that still true? Could he love them both – was that even a possibility?

  * * *

  The tapping at the kitchen doors made them both look up together. Lars rose and let George Te Paka in.

  “What is it?” Lars asked.

  George’s face was red beneath his fierce tattooing. “We have a report,” he said.

  “Go on,” Lars encouraged. He led the Maori to the table.

  George’s embarrassment increased. “The bears who were taken prisoner in Argentina have divulged a little more,” he said.

  “Yes?” Lars said.

  “Yeah. Apparently, our team got Leshov’s kids out of Ukraine alive. He responded by telling his interrogators that Señora Nicole has a tracking device imbedded in her skin.” George looked at his hands.

  “I’ve got what?” Nicole cried.

  “A microchip,” George admitted.

  “How?” Nicole squirmed in her chair as goosebumps rose all over her body.

  “Probably by Felipe. Did he ever hit you? Knock you around?” Lars’ face was grim.

  “I wasn’t willing,” she reminded him. “I fought the first few times.”

  “If he drugged you first, you might not have noticed if he chipped you. The bruises would merge with whatever marks you already had.” Lars’ voice was violent. “I’m sorry,” he said stroking her hand. “It makes me angry to think of him abusing you.”

  “A couple of times I did wonder if he had drugged me. I woke up and it was already evening and I had slept the day away,” she admitted.

  George cleared his throat. “We thought you should know. We don’t know how powerful such a device might be. Theodor has sent for a scanner, but until then we will have to assume that our location is known. Lord Voros says to sit tight until they come up with a plan.”

  “Should Nicole sleep below?” Lars asked. “Since we don’t know where the microchip is, we can’t shield that part of her body. We’ll have to assume that they’ve traced her and our refuge has been discovered.”

  “I don’t think it’s worthwhile. If they already know where she is, they’re on their way. Don’t worry. We are keeping guard and we expect reinforcements at any moment.” George stood up.

  “Well, crap.” Nicole hugged her arms, feeling chilled to the bone by this fresh threat.

  Lars locked up behind George. “Bed,” he said. “I’ll be back when I’ve checked the rest of the house.”

  Nicole stared after his retreating back. She
could hear him moving through the house, and the small rattles as he tested each latch in turn. It seemed such a shame to lock up the whole house and fasten the windows against the cool evening breezes off the ocean. But she had better keep it in mind that she was a prisoner here in paradise. She and her son were captives, however much freedom they had been promised. Microchipped. Like a frigging dog. It was as infuriating as it was terrifying.

  Matteo was fast asleep. His breathing regular. His dreams untroubled by the threat of Vladimir the Enforcer. Nicole’s stomach clenched. She made herself check that the bedroom windows were latched, but she left the California blinds wide open. She could see moths resting on the screens. The light from the bathroom spilled into his room, and she crossed to the door to shut it. Behind her, she heard a gliding footfall.

  Lars’ voice spoke softly. “Did you check the exterior doors?” he asked.

  She shook her head.

  He immediately went to them and tested the locks. He bent to make sure the barrel bolt was firmly locked into place. He closed the California blinds. “I’ll shut these too.” He indicated the window blinds.

  “He’ll get up at the same time, even if the sun can’t get in.” Nicole tried for normalcy.

  “We have been leaving them open,” he said. “But I feel a threat in the air. It’s probably nothing. Just knowing about the microchip. Theo and the others are standing sentry. We can trust them. And yet.” His voice trailed off.

  Was he trying to frighten her more? “Close them if you think it’s safer,” she said.

  “If someone tried to look in, at least they wouldn’t know exactly who was sleeping where.” He turned away from the blinds. “The sky is clear. The moon is only a quarter full. The sea is calm. It’s a good night for an attack.”

  Nicole led the way out of Matteo’s bedroom into hers. Lars closed the door behind them.

 

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