Saved By Her Dragon (31 page)

She felt
the softness of down at her back and the hardness of her mate at
her front as Devon settled on top of her. She felt him holding back
most of his weight, always thinking of her comfort first.
Thankfully, her gown was strategically slit to the thigh on both
sides accommodating her legs as they wound around his waist. They
pulled apart, panting as if they’d run for miles.

Devon
rolled his hips, effectively holding her body captive while his
heated gaze enthralled and mesmerized. His hands worked their way
from her hips, across her ribs, resting lightly at the sides of her
breasts, his thumbs landing so closely to her nipples that she
arched her back to force his touch. Smirking at her response, he
continued torturing her, branding her until he reached the straps
of her gown. Slowly inching them down, his smile grew and the look
of mischief joined the fire in his eyes.

Anya
lifted her head, trying to once again capture his lips, but Devon
moved quicker than she could track. Looming over her, he growled,
“I have never wanted anything as much as I want you
now.”

“Then
have me, Mr. Walsh. Have me and never let me go.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

He had
been digging continuously since burying John. If his inner clock
was correct, it had been almost three days. The only time he
stopped was to grab a bottle of water and a protein bar, of which
he had none left. There would be no sleep until he reached
daylight.

Andrew
had forgotten the sheer power that came from the dragon within and
although his beast had only partially returned, he was using every
ounce of its incomparable force to claw his way to freedom. The
stones jagged edges tore at his skin and dug into his knees through
the denim of his jeans. His lungs filled with dust and soot the
deeper he dug into the wall of rubble, the need for vengeance
fueling his every movement. When he thought he couldn’t pick up one
more rock, the image of John’s lifeless body, bloody and broken by
the actions of those fucking Guardsmen, spurred him to
continue.

When
that wasn’t enough, he only had to think of the years of torture at
the hands of evil wizards he had endured all because his brother,
the one he trusted more than any other, had left him for dead. He
even thought of the years with the hunters and vowed to include
them in his scheme. Visions of what he had planned for the dragons
had evolved until he was finally prepared to exact his revenge.
Andrew had cursed the Universe and Fate for what they had put him
through, but understood it had all been part of his Destiny. Had he
not suffered all that he had, he might never have been strong
enough to do what had to be done.

There
were times he would get a flicker of recognition, one where his
dragon felt the call of another. But as quickly as those came they
disappeared, only serving to let him know the bastards were close
and obviously still searching for him. Several hours earlier he had
felt one such tremor and had halted his excavation to avoid
detection. When his senses calmed and he felt nothing else but the
isolation of his captivity, he began again.

Mindlessly throwing one rock after another over his shoulder,
he had no idea how long the sounds of crickets had been filtering
into the tunnel before he recognized them for what they were…the
sounds of freedom. Opening his senses, he felt the movement of the
trees and even heard the faint sound of a deer’s heartbeat in the
distance. His mind and body filled with a renewed vigor at the
prospect of escape and his hands dug deeper while his body
struggled to work harder than he ever imagined possible.

Summoning every ounce of his remaining strength, Andrew
pushed his fingers between an unusually large boulder and the
fallen beams and rock wall of the tunnel where it had become
wedged. He felt the skin peel away from the flesh of his fingers,
his knuckles leaving a lasting imprint in the stone, but still he
pressed on, sure that freedom was just a few feet away.

Andrew’s
feet, shoulder width apart, dug into the concrete floor as the slab
remained stuck tight where it had fallen during the blast. Bending
his knees, he took a huge breath, counted to three, and pulled with
all he was. The boulder trembled under his grasp, the edges began
to crack, and in one swift move the rock dislodged. The cool night
air rushed in as he was forced to throw it over his shoulder or be
crushed under its weight.

Stumbling to freedom, he all but crawled to the edge of a
field, the stalks of wheat long past harvest serving as cover.
Leaning against one of the few remaining fence posts, he clutched
the ancient volume John had protected with his life, filled his
lungs with fresh air, and began plotting his next move.

He
looked back to all that remained of what he had called home, taking
in the total devastation. “Those fucking dragons aren’t gonna know
what hit them,” he growled to anyone or anything within the sound
of his voice.

Anya’s words were music to his ears and the only invitation he
or his dragon needed– their mate wanted to be loved and they were
both of a mind to give her anything her heart…
and body,
desired. Wanting their first
time as an officially mated couple to last as long as he could
stand, Devon kissed the column of her neck, nipped across the apex
of her shoulder, and dragged the tiny satin strap of her gown down
her arm with his teeth. Kissing his way back to her mouth, marking
every inch of her as his and his alone, he kissed her breathless
and then repeated his efforts on her other shoulder.

The more he tasted the more Anya panted, making her breasts a
temptation he could no longer resist. Kissing across the neckline
of her dress, letting his tongue dip under the satin ribbing to
taste the decadent flesh made his mate moan with pleasure and push
into his touch. He pulled the zipper at her side down, kissing
every inch of naked flesh as it became visible. Anya writhed under
his ministrations, grabbing his head and trying to force it where
she most wanted his touch. “Patience,
a
chumann.
I have a lot of time to make up
for.”

She groaned her disapproval as he continued his slow perusal.
His mouth watered as he peeled away the cloth of her bodice
revealing the voluptuous breasts and berry-colored nipples begging
for his mouth. Licking across first one and then the other, he was
rewarded with an “Oh Heavens, Devon…
please
…”

Loving
her responsiveness, he took the nipple between his lips, sucking
and nipping until Anya bowed her back, holding him to her chest and
mewling his name. His hand kneaded the other breast, working her
nipple to an even harder point between his thumb and
forefinger.

The
scent of her arousal filled the room with the tantalizing aroma of
the beach on a summer day. His dragon pushed and roared in his
head, demanding he continue undressing their beautiful mate, both
man and beast driven to taste her nectar. Releasing her breast with
a loud pop, Devon latched onto the other, working her dress farther
down her body and over her beautifully rounded hips. His fingers
stilled as he felt the lace of her underwear.

His
mouth moved from her nipple, kissing the valley between her
breasts, leaving a trail of heat and seduction down her body,
tasting and marking every inch he could reach. He reached the silk
of her panties and inhaled long and deep, immersing himself in
Anya’s wonderfully unique scent. Unable to resist any longer, he
knelt between her thighs, all but tearing the gown from her body
and throwing the offending material over his shoulder as soon as
her feet slipped free. Her panties were the next to go, leaving her
gloriously naked and open to do with as he pleased.

Anya was
a feast for the eyes when clothed, but naked she was absolutely
stunning. As slowly as his growing need would allow, his eyes
worked their way from the deep red of the polish that covered her
toes, up her shapely legs that very soon would be wrapped around as
many parts of his body as he could get them, to her soft thighs he
could not wait to have pillowing his head. Her rounded stomach told
him she was a real woman, not some little girl without curves;
curves that fueled his wild imagination and begged to be kissed
over and over again.

“Devon?”
His name on her lips drew his gaze.

“Yes, mo
chroi’?” he crooned, massaging up and down her thighs, sure to
brush the outer lips of her pussy on every pass and enjoying that
her hips jumped at every touch.

“Devon…I
need…” She gasped, unable to complete her thought as his index
finger ran up and down her slit, already wet with the proof of her
arousal.

“What is
it you need, my love?” He teased, enjoying the sight as her
breathing grew even more ragged and she found it hard to hold
still. Devon took in the vision of Anya in the throes of passion,
her head thrown back, eyes closed tight, mouth open as she called
his name like a mantra and knew he had glimpsed heaven.

“
I…oh God, yes…” She wailed as he pushed his finger through her
folds and teased the opening, her juices wetting his hand. Her
pussy contracted around the tip of his finger, attempting to pull
his digit into her warm wet passage. Adding another finger, he
began gliding them in and out, her honey providing the perfect
lubrication. His thumb drew lazy circles around her swollen clit
while his fingers continued to work her arousal higher. Every few
swipes he would bend the tips of his fingers to gently brush the
very special bundle of nerves that made his mate moan in
pleasure.

Needing
to taste her more than he needed his next breath he quickly removed
his fingers, and before she could whine at the loss, drove his
tongue into her pussy as far as he could reach. Her taste exploded
on his tongue, flashes of light bursting before his eyes. He
devoured Anya like a man possessed, grabbing every drop of the
nectar that flowed from her. She tasted of sunshine and honey and
everything good and right in the world. The more his tongue moved
within her, the more of her heavenly juices he took in, until he
felt drunk. Her hands pulled at his hair and he was sure he would
be bald, but he simply couldn’t care. Her legs came over his
shoulders and closed around his head making breathing almost
impossible, and still he consumed all she had to give.

He felt
her tense just a second before her orgasm overtook her. Screaming
his name, she came on his tongue, filling his mouth until her
juices ran down his chin. He continued to lick and tease as she
came back to earth.

Looking
up he found her smiling a lazy smile and gazing at him through
passion-filled eyes. His only thought was to keep that exact look
on her face for the rest of their lives together.

His cock
pulsed against the zipper of his black pants and it was then that
he realized he was still completely dressed. Not wanting to leave
his place between her thighs but needing to feel her skin against
his, Devon stood in one fluid motion, threw off his surcoat and
tore the black long-sleeved T-shirt over his head. His hands
reached for the buckle of his belt only to be knocked away by
Anya’s much smaller ones.

His eyes
flew to hers. “What…?”

“It’s my
turn, Mr. Walsh,” she winked. He had no idea how she had moved so
quickly, but when she looked at him with such mischief in her eyes
and a grin that was perfect parts sweetness and seduction on her
lips, all thoughts of anything but being buried deep inside her
fled from his mind.

Anya
undid his belt and button and then slowly slid his zipper down,
never once losing eye contact. She pressed her body to his, the
heat of her skin against his better than anything he could have
ever imagined. Her hardened nipples pushed against the muscles of
his chest and he longed to taste them once again. With her thighs
pressing against his, she turned their bodies until the bed bumped
the back of his knees. His pants slid down his legs, held up by his
knee length boots. Devon started to bend to remove the offending
footwear but Anya’s hands on his shoulders stopped his
progress

Shaking her head, she gently pushed until he sat on the side
of the bed and then drove the breath from his lungs as she kneeled
before him. The look she gave him as she glanced up through the
fringe of her long dark lashes would have killed a lesser man.
Needing to be inside her more than he needed his next breath, Devon
grabbed her shoulders, trying to pull her onto his lap, boots be
damned. But once again she shook her head, denying him the pleasure
he so desperately needed. His mate had a plan, one she would not
abandon no matter how close to death she pushed him.
But you’ll die with a smile on your face, old
boy
, he chuckled to himself.

Lifting
first one foot and then the other, Anya removed his boots and then
his pants. She ran her nails, painted the same deep red as her
toes, up his shins and across his thighs, stopping inches from his
straining cock, eager to have her touch. Anya painted figure eights
up and down his thigh, the friction of her touch against the
smattering of short dark hair raised goose bumps all over his body
while she wove her web of seduction.

Her thoughts were completely open to him, letting him feel as
well as hear that
his
pleasure was her only focus. She wanted to please him in every
way possible and mark him just as he did her. Anya wanted the world
to know he was hers every bit as much as she was his.