The Billionaire Dragon Shifter Meets His Match: BBW Paranormal Romance (Gray's Hollow Dragon Shifters Book 6) (13 page)

She moaned, and he felt the vibration of it against his cock as her lips brushed over it for the very first time.

Not nice to distract me
, she told him.
My very first time.

Well, I am a dragon
, Laurence returned, licking over her pussy, dripping wet and hot for him already.
We’re not known for being nice, treasure
.

She retaliated with a lick of her own that made his breath catch as pleasure bolted through him.
Ah, but I’m a dragon too
.

Any hint of leisurely exploration vanished shortly after that, as he buried his face in her pussy and set out to drive her wild. She licked and sucked and stroked his cock with equal determination if less expertise, and the pleasure of his mate’s lips and tongue and hands soon pushed him beyond thought into fiery, desperate pleasure.

He pulled away when he knew he was getting too close to keep any control, hurriedly changing position again. Jane rolled onto her back, her legs spread wide for him, and he couldn’t look anywhere else as he slid inside her, watching his cock push deep inside her—his mate, his beloved, his perfect match.

Yes, yes, yes
, Jane urged him on silently, while out loud she was panting and moaning, beyond words.
Yes, fill me, take me, I’m yours, you’re mine
.

He groaned again when he was sheathed inside her tight, welcoming heat. He dropped his head to kiss his way up over the lush mounds of her breasts, but her hands in his hair urged him higher. He rocked inside her, thrusting deep as he moved up to kiss the sweet, needy sounds from her mouth.

He knew just what she needed to finish, and they were both so close that it wouldn’t take long. His tongue pressed into her mouth as his cock moved inside her, coaxing more and more pleasure from her. Soon she was crying out, tightening around him as she climaxed.

He followed her over the edge, spilling deep inside her in a rush of pleasure that swallowed all his senses, dazzling as the sun after too long flying within the clouds.
My treasure, my own
.

Even after they both fell still, the bed rocked them together in the rhythm of the water as it carried them home.

***

They were still out on the open lake—the boat’s captain was being very considerate about taking a leisurely route back to the dock—when Laurence’s hand settled on her rounded belly.

Our... dragonet?

She wasn’t sure what question he was asking, and she wasn’t sure of any answer except one.
I hope so. If not just yet... I hope.

He nuzzled at her temple and cheek, dropping soft kisses there. She could feel the dark turn of his thoughts, considering everything that lay between them and that hope. She had her own thoughts about it—about what the Corps might do, about what
she
would do, if her mate should be outlawed or killed, if she were carrying his child.

You would be safe in Gray’s Hollow,
he told her, and she wasn’t sure how much of her thought he had sensed.
Even... without me, they would accept you.

And in her mind there was a map, unfurled from his memory to her mind. Just how to get to one unassuming small town in Pennsylvania—a place she hadn’t heard her mother or William even hint at, for all they’d been trying to pry the information loose from her. They didn’t know, she was sure. But she did, now. She knew where to find Laurence’s family.

She felt a little cold, despite the trust of the gesture. She was eager to see the place, and she longed to meet the brothers and sisters-in-law and nieces Laurence was so careful to protect. Still...

Why are you telling me, Laurence? Why now?

“Because I have to fight him,” Laurence murmured. “I have to face the challenge, Jane. You’ve shown me I can take my dragon shape and keep my head at least a little—”

“You were lovely with that little girl,” Jane put in hopefully, though she knew as well as Laurence did that there was a world of difference between his feeling a moment’s protective anger only to be confronted with a frightened child, and going into a true challenge against a belligerent adult male dragon.

“I hope so,” Laurence said softly, echoing her own words. “Jane, I—I hope. I hope I can be like that with
our
dragonet. I hope I can be a worthy mate for you. I hope I can stay. I never... I never hoped, before now. I never thought there was anything I dared to hope for. But I do hope for you, and that means I have to try, don’t I? I have to try, so we can get on with the rest.”

She didn’t need dragon speech to know that it wasn’t that simple. He might hope, but she knew he was a long way from believing that any of it was possible. And still, he was right. They couldn’t put the challenge off forever. Her mother and William had both warned her that Farrell was growing increasingly impatient, and that he would try to force matters soon if Laurence didn’t agree to meet his challenge.

Laurence’s best chance of coming through the challenge without losing control would be if he could come to it on his own terms, not ambushed by Farrell.

Jane nodded. “I’ll get in touch with the Corps, then. They’ll organize the time for you to meet.”

Laurence exhaled and nodded, kissing her softly again. Tears sprang to Jane’s eyes. It already felt like a kiss goodbye.

“You’d be safe there too, wouldn’t you?” She whispered. “In Gray’s Hollow. Even if Farrell chased you there, your brothers would protect you. The people would protect you.”

Laurence shook his head a little. “I couldn’t—I couldn’t just live among them, Jane, not without—”

“I would run with you,” she said softly. “Now, or—even after, if it goes wrong—Laurence, I’ll go with you. I’ll run, I’ll meet you there. I don’t care what the Corps or anyone says, I—”

“Shh.” Laurence stopped her mouth with another kiss, and she could feel him shushing her softly in dragon speech.
Don’t talk about that now.

I’d go anywhere with you,
she promised him fiercely, holding him close.
I’d give up anything, everything. You’re my mate.

But I don’t want you to give up anything, my treasure,
Laurence told her silently.
I want you to have everything.

***

Even under the low, overcast sky, the open space of the dock was an unpleasant change from the cave-like feeling of the ship’s low cabin. Laurence kept a tight hold on Jane’s hand as they hurried toward the waiting taxi, and they stayed pressed together in the back all the way to her house.

When they got inside, Laurence could feel the pull of the safest place of all—the one place in the house Jane hadn’t yet shown to him. He didn’t ask, even silently, only looked at her. She leaned into him, giving no answer to the unasked question.

“I told William,” she said quietly. “Farrell will meet you tomorrow morning—there’s a dueling ground up north. We’ll have to leave before the sun’s up.”

“That’s tomorrow,” Laurence said softly, but the dragon in him roared—again—at the thought of only one night, one
more
night, with his mate.

He realized suddenly that he wasn’t wearing dragonglass. He had tipped the bracelets out of his shoe and pocketed them when getting dressed, wanting only to finish getting his clothes on so that he could hold Jane again.

Well, he wasn’t putting them back on tonight, and after tomorrow...

There was no point in trying to think what he would do after tomorrow. There was just tomorrow, and until tomorrow came there was only tonight.

Jane nodded against his chest. “Come downstairs with me, Laurence, please.”

He squeezed her tighter in his arms and then followed her to the stairs and down, toward the largest concentration of gold in the house. He didn’t hesitate until they were right on the threshold of the cellar room that held the hoard. He only stopped there because his eye was caught by the sword hanging over the arched doorway, and the black gleam of the glass adorning the hilt.

There was a dark glitter to the blade, as well, and for the first time he thought he felt what Jane had described, a sensitivity to the mere presence of dragonglass. The hair on his body prickled painfully, and all his scars seemed to burn.

“What—Jane, what is—”

“The family sword,” Jane said quietly. “Wielded by generations of Georges. I’m not allowed to carry it—not yet.”

He looked down at her, but for once she didn’t meet his eyes. He slipped his fingers under Jane’s chin, drawing her gently to look at him.
Tell me.

She closed her eyes for a moment, then gave in and looked up at him with tears glimmering in her eyes, threatening to fall. Her voice shook a little as she said, “It’s only to be carried by a George who is invited to join in the Hunt—to hunt and kill a dragon who has been outlawed. I’m not trusted to join the Hunt because I’m a dragon myself, and unmated. It’s the same reason they make me wear dragonglass when I’m on duty.”

Laurence looked up at the sword then, and imagined Jane righteously pursuing some wicked, murderous dragon—like himself.

“I suppose I’m not quite the mate they had in mind for you,” he murmured, staring at the ugly weapon.

Jane shook her head. “I don’t care. I don’t
want
it, not—”

She gave up on speaking and tugged Laurence past the threshold, into the presence of her hoard.

Laurence could suddenly breathe again, in the nourishing presence of heaped-up gold. And not just any gold, but dragon’s gold, hoarded gold—gold that had been held for so long by dragons that it understood its purpose and held on right back. It was piled up in a satisfying knee-high jumble in the little cellar room, making a bed just big enough for two, if they didn’t mind being close.

“Is it,” Jane said hesitantly. “I know it’s not...”

“It is your hoard,” he murmured, tugging her to lie down on it with him. “It is glorious, and I covet it as I do you, my mate.”

Jane hesitated lying stretched out beside him. “We could... do you want to make it official? Now, tonight?”

Laurence wanted nothing more—wanted to claim all that belonged to his mate, and give to her all that he owned, wanted to know down to the last atom that she belonged to him and no other.

“I don’t have my own hoard here to give to you,” he murmured, tugging her shirt up to bare her skin to the gold and to him. She allowed it, then tugged his shirt off in turn. They undressed each other quickly but with less urgency than they would have earlier. Soon they were lying naked in the sweet cradle of gold.

Jane didn’t argue with his objection, didn’t tell him that she could make him her own even if he couldn’t reciprocate properly. They both knew that tonight wasn’t the night for it, with the threat of tomorrow hanging over them.

“Let’s just rest, then,” Jane murmured, drawing him close and running her fingers through his hair.

He curled his own arm around her and closed his eyes. Here and there a chain from her hoard curled possessively over him, but he had no need to take notice, and no will to resist.

***

Jane woke up alone, feeling cold despite being snuggled into the familiar gold of her own hoard.

Laurence?

For the first time in days, she felt her own dragon speech bounce off that solid black wall that Laurence used to shield himself from other dragons. She reached out for a sense of his jewelry to tell her where he was. She was a little sickened to realize that he’d taken it all off and left it here, with her hoard, as though she would rather have his gold than him.

His watch, the chains he’d worn, the crude apology ring—they were all piled in a little heap in the spot where he’d been lying. They had been easy to miss in the general comforting warmth of the gold around her, but when she paid attention they were obviously separate from her hoard. None of these belonged to her, even if he had left them for her. She wouldn’t accept gifts given in such a backhanded fashion—especially when they were gifts
given back
.

No. She wouldn’t think that. Laurence was her mate; soon their hoards would be one hoard. That was all that this meant.

She reached out again to find him, this time searching for those tiny beads of gold she’d been allowed to part only yesterday, when she took the dragonglass from Laurence’s wrists. Those she found upstairs, in the house’s kitchen. Laurence had put them back on, of course.

Jane plucked a single piece of gold off the sad little heap added to her hoard and headed upstairs. She didn’t go into the kitchen right away, going upstairs first to wash up and dress. It was still dark; there was some time yet before they had to leave. Laurence hadn’t made any serious attempt to sneak off without her. She worked through those details—along with the question of what to wear—because it was better than thinking of what could happen today, and what
had
to happen today.

She settled the simplest question first: she wore clothes Laurence had bought for her, but the ones that were most like what she’d already owned. She put on jeans perfectly tailored to her curves over silky underwear and socks, and topped it with a deep red blouse.