Treasure Lane Dragons: Complete Series (BBW Paranormal Dragon Shapeshifter Romance) (16 page)

She watched as his mouth twisted in irritation.

“I will take them on as well, if need be,” Devon said defiantly, and there was no doubt in Gemma’s mind that he would attempt just that, and because of his wounds and their greater numbers, fail miserably. That dragon stubbornness…

“Devon, no. Let’s go,” Gemma said, curling her fingers in his hand and releasing her grip on him, wanting to urge him to go. She didn’t want to think about even the option of losing him. She wouldn’t live through it, this much she knew, even though there were plenty of worries and questions swimming around in her head about everything else.

“Is he…” Devon asked, a sigh of relief going through him as Cillian shook his head ever so slightly.

No, but he will wish he was. I think it is settled now. He would be a fool to try again. You’ve given him his life. It is the highest form of mercy. We cannot wipe him from our kind, not these days… Not when there are so few of us. But I am sure his family will not leave things as they are. I suspect there will soon be a new Redblade elder.

Cillian inclined his head slightly, and Gemma nodded. She agreed, it was the right way to leave things, and Devon was in no state to take on another fight. He needed rest and time to heal. She did as well. And time seemed to be the most valuable commodity just then.

“Fine, I will go,” Devon finally agreed reluctantly, draping an arm around Gemma’s shoulder. “Please let me know, Cillian. And… Thank you. For stopping me. I wouldn’t have…”

I know. I would not have either.

Nor would have I,
Gemma thought darkly.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Gemma

Gemma stirred slowly, awoken by soft murmurs outside the door. Her sleep-ridden eyes opened with far more difficulty than she had expected, and when her hand instinctively reached for the spot next to her where Devon had been resting for the past few days, there were nothing but cool covers there. That woke her up with a start. For a second, she thought she was back in Remington Redblade’s mountain lair, her wrists shackled and her fate in everybody else’s hands but her own.

A few quick breaths and frantic glances later, she could let out a long sigh and relax slightly. The walls weren’t the foreboding maroon red and gold of the Redblade estate but the cool blues and silvers of her bedroom in Devon’s mansion. Despite herself, she smiled a little – the relief of knowing that she was
home
just so great. And that was what it was now, wasn’t it? Home.

She shifted her feet over the edge of the bed, letting her soles sink into the soft carpet. She wiggled her toes a little and stretched – that was all the time she gave herself to stir from her sleepy reverie. In her mind, Devon was still nowhere near well enough to be out and about, though she was sure he would disagree with her. Between her disappearance, him finding her, getting back to Devon’s house and then sleeping their dead men’s sleep for days on end, the whole ordeal had taken nearly a week.

Gemma was sure she’d slept twenty hours straight before the thought of nourishment or a shower had become compelling enough to make her stand from the bed. Devon hadn’t been much better. One of his servants had helped Gemma in cleaning his wounds, though the proud dragon insisted that he didn’t need any help. His magic would heal him. Gemma maintained that magic and antibiotics were not mutually exclusive, and he could suck it up and just deal with a bit of 21
^st
century magic as well.

To her surprise, he hadn’t even fought her on it more than grumbling a few choice words. He must have been
really
tired.

Gemma grabbed a robe from a nearby chair to cover the tee and shorts she had been sleeping in and moved towards the door, the hushed voices still speaking right on the other side. With a frown on her face, she pulled the door open, finding Devon and a handsome green-eyed man exchanging pleasantries right outside. Immediately, she knew it must have been Cillian. She smiled brightly, and without a second thought, stepped closer to the towering, wide-shouldered man and hugged him tightly.

Gently, he returned the embrace before letting her go, his eyes twinkling with that familiar mirth she had seen in the dragon, now even warmer in person.

“Thank you for everything, Cillian,” she said, taking her place next to Devon, her hand quickly slipping into his palm. Cillian grinned in return, bowing his head ever so slightly.

“My pleasure, Gemma. I just came to let Devon know that there have been some changes in the Redblade fold, but I’m sure you’ll find out yourself when the wedding comes. Tomorrow, isn’t it?” Cillian queried, a knowing look on his face as he shifted his gaze to Devon.

Devon nodded, mirroring the smirk. Gemma had to wonder what all that was about, but she was getting used to constantly being just a little bit confused as to what was going on – damnable dragons and their mysterious ways. If they weren’t only so intoxicating to be around.

“Anything to worry about?” she asked.

“Not a thing. Nothing that we can’t handle, anyway,” Devon said, wrapping his arm around her. Devon was dressed in dark sweatpants and a gray tee, and to Gemma’s surprise, there was barely a mark left on him. He sported a wide, jagged scar on his wrist where Remington had clung to him, and she knew the scratched on his back and neck must not have been completely gone yet, but he seemed to have made an amazing recovery. 

He must have noticed her looking at his scars, because he squeezed her a little, laying a protective kiss on her temple. It was something he did more and more now, and Gemma had to admit that she liked the feeling of it.

“Dragon magic. I told you,” he said, chuckling.

“One would imagine. What with the Goldplains twins camping out on your roof for three days now. If their magic couldn’t heal you, nothing could. I’m sure Gold Valley must be buzzing with gossip at the two golden dragons seemingly taking over the mansion. You better make an appearance soon, lest they worry,” Cillian said, grinning. Gemma looked up at Devon, her eyes riddled with questions.

“The twins have a gift. They’re healing dragons. When they’re around, everything’s just… better. That’s how I healed so quickly. And I thought they must have been here, I felt their presence. I will have to say my thanks to them. But I don’t think I was as bad as Remington…” Devon trailed off. Cillian’s happy grin disappeared, the man suddenly looking rather more somber.

“No, you were not. But you know how the Redblades are. They wouldn’t let the twins close. Remington’s brothers were adamant about handling it themselves. But he must still be alive. We haven’t heard the songs, and we’ve been listening.”

Devon nodded and reached out his hand for a shake. Cillian grabbed it but pulled the other man in for a bear hug, patting him on the back.

“I will see you tomorrow. You two have fun,” Cillian said with a wink, twirling around on his heel and heading towards the stairs that led to the roof, whistling a jaunty Irish tune.

Gemma giggled, but the laughter disappeared quickly as Devon scooped her up in his arms, carrying her back into the bedroom without another word. The door slammed shut behind them, and not a second later, Gemma landed square on her back on the bed. Apparently a hungry dragon was not one to be toyed with.

Gemma caught her lower lip between her teeth, her pulse quickening as her body was locked between the soft sheets and the handsome man. They’d shared a bed for days now, but had both been too weak to do anything about the need within them.

Still, she hadn’t even thought of leaving his side, nor he hers. After having just got one another back, it seemed like the height of folly to not be around each other. Her hands rested on his chest, feeling his heart beat heavily. She liked the way she could make him react so readily.

“I’ve missed you, princess,” Devon said, his voice but a hoarse whisper as he bent down and trailed kisses on her neck and down her chest.

With one hand, he undid the tie on her bathrobe and pushed it out of the way. Then, he raised the edge of the t-shirt and butterflied kisses on her soft stomach, making her giggle from the way his stubble rasped at her delicate skin. Gemma was completely wet already, just like she always was when he touched her. She raised herself up a little, just enough to wrestle the shirt and bathrobe off of herself, and a thankful moan slipped from her lips as he responded by throwing off his shirt as well.

Her fingers trailed along the small scars that riddled his body, many soon to disappear as he healed further, but some there to stay – the mark around his wrist would forever be there to remind her of what he had done for her, what he had been willing to do.

Devon kissed her bountiful breasts, squeezing them with his hands and making her meet his touch by arching her back. Heat surged through her, making her pulse with need for him. She reached down, gripping his cock through his loose pants, and he groaned with satisfying longing. Slowly, Gemma rubbed up and down the length of it, loving how big it was, how
hard
it was. And all for her.

He caught one of her nipples with his mouth and sucked so hard she was sure he’d leave marks. But that was fine, she wanted him to leave marks on her, wanted him to claim her. The dragon stone glowed with its dark light right between her breasts, reminding her of what they’d gone through and how they’d grown stronger for it. She was never going to take it off again.

“I need you,” she muttered with feverish desire, her green eyes seeking out his blues. A devilish glint shone in them, his dark brows framing his mesmerizing eyes and always making her feel like she was staring at a wild thing, not merely a man.

“How much?” he demanded, raising up on his knees and towering above her like a god, ripped and delicious.

“Endlessly,” she answered, certain of the truthfulness of her words. There were no bounds to how much she truly needed him now – something she couldn’t have even imagined a scarce few weeks ago. Her hand still worked his cock, rubbing it and luxuriating in the feeling of it as it throbbed when her thumb rubbed over its tip.

“Will you wear what I give you now? Will you give yourself to me entirely? We will be tied together under dragon law tomorrow, but I have to know now, Gem. I must know…” His voice trailed off, and for the slightest of moments, the predator shone brighter than the man behind his eyes, irises turning a stark gold before flashing blue again. Before he could even finish his words, Gemma found herself nodding, raising herself up on her elbows and then on her knees so she may face him.

She cupped his face with her hands, feeling impossibly small next to him. Or perhaps it was just that he was so big compared to her. Whichever it was, it filled her with a sense of safety and belonging – something that had seemed so elusive for such a long time.

“I will, Devon. I will cherish everything you give me. What is mine is yours, and I am yours to keep,” she whispered, kissing him on the mouth like demons were after her and this would be the very last kiss they’d ever share. She wanted him to know that all she was saying was true. That there could be no one else. Not anymore. Not ever.

“Good,” Devon said simply, leaning back and snatching the bracelet he had given her on their trip to the caverns. He slipped it on her wrist almost reverently – the same wrist he now wore his scar on as a mark of battle. Her heart pounded so hard she thought it would leap from her chest, but all seemed to fall quiet as Devon fisted her hair and yanked her forward, kissing her with hunger she hadn’t seen in him yet. “Then, you will be mine,” he promised. “Tomorrow, truly. But now, just as importantly.”

With that, he pushed her back on the downy cover, the motion almost brutal. Gemma gasped, her body reacting to his need with such willingness that she couldn’t believe it was her, who was so hungry to be taken, ravaged, consumed. Devon flipped her over with his strong hands on her hips and then ripped off her panties. They were discarded sight unseen, joined a moment later by his pants. With a rough motion, he pulled her up by her hips, keeping her on her hands and knees.

His cock pressed against her wet pussy, and she rocked against him, mewling a little with want.

“Please,” she begged, the word becoming almost too familiar. But it didn’t feel degrading or wrong, it felt empowering when she was with him. Asking for what she wanted and receiving it in kind. His fingers gripped her neck, and then, with one deep stroke, he pushed into her, filling her almost completely. Her body bucked against it, the pain so sweet and so sour at the same time.

She screamed a laborious sound that echoed in the room and reverberated through her, like shockwaves escaping her lips as he thrust into her, deeper and deeper each time. Gemma trembled like a leaf, loving the way he plunged so deep in her that she thought he couldn’t possibly go further, and then the very next stroke proved her wrong again. Beads of sweat broke out across her skin, and Devon’s growls mingled with her yelps, creating a cacophony of noise that neither was abashed about.

Let the world hear how much they fucking wanted each other.

He released her neck, and she purred with delight as his hand groped her breasts, pinching her nipples and making the fire in her veins burn all the more hot. Then, his hands travelled down her front and slipped between her legs, and when his feather light touch brushed over her clit for the first time, she thought she must have ascended and this was exactly what pure joy felt like. Gemma didn’t try to fight it. She accepted it gratefully.

Her orgasm swept over her and took her completely as she, in turn, gave herself to Devon. Her pussy milked his rigid cock, contracting around the swollen rod and demanding it join her in that heavenly release. His fingertips dug into her flesh, though Gemma barely paid heed to it. And then, he was right there with her, gasping as he cummed in her, thick white ropes spewing in her as he stroked into her.

Finally, they collapsed, Devon’s arms cradling her safely against him as always, as if he were afraid to let go. In truth, he probably was now, and Gemma was thankful for it.