CHAPTER 22
Abigail
Abigail whooped as Jasper landed on a patch of black rock on the side of a mountain. It had, as he’d said, only been a short flight. Short enough to leave her wanting more, but long enough to get her pulse pounding. And if Jasper meant what he said about his hoard…
Desire pooled inside her, warm and liquid.
Jasper shifted. Abigail offered him his clothes, and he took them— but didn’t put them on. Grinning at her over his shoulder, he walked up to a huge rock set into the side of the mountain. It was the size of a door, black and featureless in the moonlight.
The moonlight shone on Jasper, too, caressing the strong muscles of his back and ass, outlining his shoulders and bicep as he raised one arm toward the huge stone.
He hesitated, looking back at Abigail. The moonlight made everything silvery, but his eyes still burned ember-bright, red and gold. Right now, they looked vulnerable.
“I’ve never brought anyone here before,” he said, his voice hushed.
Abigail walked up to him and took his hands in hers. The mate-bond sang as Jasper ran his thumb over her ring. “Show me,” she whispered. “I want to know everything about you.”
He smiled, raised his hand again, and the mountain moved.
Tendrils of gold curled around the edges of the door-sized rock, like roots growing out from the heart of the mountain. They pushed the rock aside, revealing a dark cave.
“Ladies first,” Jasper said. He squeezed Abigail’s hand and she frowned.
His smile was wobbling. He kept licking his lips. And his eyes still looked wary.
“Jasper, I’ve already chosen you,” she said, placing one hand on his chest. “I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. You don’t need to be nervous.”
Jasper took a deep breath. “I know. I just…” He shut his eyes and winced. “You’ll see.”
He led her into the cave. It was even deeper than it looked, going deep into the mountain. She was worried about losing her footing in the darkness, but just as the last beam of moonlight faded, another light came to life. The cave walls were lined with fern-like tendrils of gold, and they were glowing.
Abigail looked closer. Not ferns; the gold made patterns like ice crystals on a window. “This is beautiful,” she murmured.
“Ye-es,” Jasper said, sounding uncertain. “This is beautiful.”
Abigail narrowed her eyes at him. Interesting, she thought. In the magical gold-light, he wasn’t looking nervous anymore. More… embarrassed?
What does a dragon have to be embarrassed about? she wondered.
Then they turned a corner, and she knew.
Abigail gasped. She couldn’t help it. Jasper’s hoard was incredible. A huge cavern, piled high with gold and jewels. Objects of unbelievable value… and all on a particular theme.
She turned to her mate, eyes wide. “Jasper…”
“I know.” He winced. “It seemed like a good idea at the time. God, this is so embarrassing… it’s so much worse than the sweater…”
He covered his face. Abigail couldn’t help it. She burst out laughing, which only made him groan louder.
“Jasper, stop.” She pulled his hands away from his face and gestured at the treasure-piles. “This is— this is wonderful. Don’t be embarrassed.”
“But they’re…” Jasper grimaced. Abigail caressed his cheek.
“Wonderful. Beautiful. Jasper, how could I think they were anything else?”
Arm in arm with her mate, she surveyed his hoard. Gold and jewels. That was traditional, she knew.
But of course, Jasper wasn’t a traditional dragon. He was a Christmas dragon.
She stared wide-eyed at piles of Christmas baubles of all sorts, balls and bells and filigree stars, all gleaming, pure gold. Chains that looked more like tinsel and streamers. Even…
Abigail knelt down. “Is this… Rudolph?” she said, picking up the golden figuring and holding it out to Jasper. “With a ruby nose?”
Jasper stared at her, looking utterly lost. “Yes,” he admitted. “But… you’re smiling.” He hesitated. “Do you… like it?”
Abigail’s smile stretched across her face. “Like it?” She spun around. Everything in the cavern was one hundred per cent, ridiculously, wonderfully Christmassy.
It was so, so Jasper.
“I love it,” she told him, and fell backwards onto the nearest pile of gold.
She’d expected it to be like falling onto gravel, or a riverbed of loose stones; instead, it was like falling into clouds. The gold moved under and around her, cushioning her perfectly.
“Is this— ?” she began.
“More dragon magic?” Jasper advanced towards her, his eyes glowing with more than ember brightness. “Yes.”
Desire shot through Abigail and she gasped. Jasper’s eyes locked on to her mouth. Anticipation sharpening the warmth inside her to white hot, Abigail slowly licked her lips.
Jasper was on top of her in a heartbeat. His body covered hers completely. “Damn it,” he groaned. “You know how much I love it when you do that.”
Gold moved under Abigail. Out of the corners of her eyes, she could see tinsel-like strands stretching towards her.
“I do,” she agreed, and licked her lips again.
Jasper’s eyes flared gold and red. He captured her lips with his, flicking his tongue out to explore her mouth. She kissed him back just as passionately. Her tongue teased against his, questing, playing.
She had longed for him all day. Her first Heartwell Christmas had been one miracle after another— happiness, family, love. Her desire for her mate had grown with every hour of the day, a low, strong simmer that made her skin prickle.
She’d expected a slow, languorous lovemaking, like they had shared the last few hours of Christmas Eve, when their bodies were tired but their desire for one another far from exhausted.
She hadn’t expected this. The fire, the urgency. Pure need, white-hot and shining gold. Beautiful. Right.
She dug her fingers into Jasper’s hair, deepening the kiss. Her skin was on fire, desperate for his touch. Her clothes were too heavy, stifling— but he was wonderfully, gloriously bare.
Abigail ran her hands up and down her lover’s chest, sliding them around to dig her fingertips into the muscles of his back. He was hot, and hard, and wonderful. And groaning against her lips, his own hands pulling at her coat and shirt, fumbling with her trousers.
At last they were lying skin to skin. Abigail could feel Jasper’s heartbeat against her breasts, the swell of his chest with every breath he took. The mate-bond sang inside them both, gold-bright and perfect.
Jasper gazed down at her, his eyes hooded with lust. “My darling,” he murmured. He interlaced his fingers around hers, holding her hands against the gold above her head. “You are my most precious treasure. Everything else here pales in comparison to you.”
His eyes raked down her body. Everywhere his gaze fell, her skin prickled with anticipation.
Abigail inhaled slowly, breathing in her dragon’s scent. Sweet and spice, and pure masculine power. She moaned with desire and Jasper bore down on her. Her whole body melted against him, soft against his masculine hardness. She was hot and wet and willing, and he—
His eyes glowed into hers. “My mate,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “I have already given you the heart of my hoard. Now the rest of it will be yours, as well.”
Gold chains— tinsel— snaked around her wrists, pulling her arms tight. Abigail wriggled against her constraints, glorying in the feeling of being pinned beneath her mate. More gold wound around her ankles, spreading her legs. She gazed up at Jasper, lips parted, the desire coursing through her veins so strong her vision was hazy.
“Everything I have, I share with you.” Jasper caressed her cheek, moving his hands down over her breasts, her stomach, until Abigail thought she would burst with need. “All for you. My greatest treasure.”
The gold responded to his words. Abigail felt the change through the mate-bond. Before, Jasper’s hoard had been his, the chains around her wrists and ankles a mark of his claim on her. Now, the gold sang inside her, as well. Every piece of it. Her blood rang with its golden chimes.
“Oh, Jasper,” she gasped. “My dragon. My only, my strong, wonderful mate—”
The chains were hers, now, too, but they stayed where they were. She wanted them there. She wanted to give herself, every part of herself, to him. To her Jasper, her dragon. Her mate.
Now and forever.
Her ring sang on her finger. The heard of the hoard. She felt it in her own heart. And Jasper was on top of her, his cock pressing against her entrance, and she had never wanted anything more.
“Please,” she gasped.
Jasper’s eyes were dark with lust. He moved on top of her, excruciatingly slowly. Abigail trembled with frustration. Didn’t he know she needed this? Didn’t he feel her desire, like she felt his through the mate-bond, lust and love and wonder woven together until she could barely see straight?
She looked deep into his eyes. He knew. Oh, he knew.
And she knew just what to do. She bit down on her lower lip. Hard. So hard she mewled with pain.
Jasper bore down on her. She felt his hunger, his desire, flooding through the mate-bond. He crushed his muscular chest against her breasts. Claimed his lips with hers. And he thrust inside her, so tenderly she thought she might cry from the overload of sensation.
He stilled when he was completely inside her. His heartbeat met hers, their breath mingling in the cool cavern. The scent of sweet spices filled her lungs. Her body. Her soul.
They moved together. Each thrust, each breath, each heartbeat. The fire inside Abigail was still wild, still urgent and raging with need, but Jasper controlled her. The gold controlled her. And her desire built with every moment, to heights she had never believed possible.
Her hands clenched. Every sensation seared across her soul. She was the heart of Jasper’s hoard and his loved pressed in on her, filled her every pore, buoyed her up like a star in the oceans of eternity. My mate. My mate. His heartbeat thudded in her ears and she knew, gazing into the depths of his eyes, that her heartbeat filled his.
Gold-red eyes filled her vision. Her world. Dark pupils, wide with lust, and the flame of hot embers around their edges.
“Oh God, Jasper— !” she gasped, and pleasure overwhelmed her.
Sensual ecstasy caught her like a leaf in floodwaters. Pleasure cascaded through her, time and time again, until her limbs thrashed and she cried out in helpless abandon. The gold held her firm under her mate, until he drove into her harder than ever before, crying out as he spilled himself inside her.
The chains retreated as they lay together, panting. Abigail was almost disappointed; she wanted them on her forever, to show that she was Jasper’s, his own, his mate. Forever.
She wrapped her arms around him and the glimmer of gold caught her eye. The chains had retreated— but not all of them. Gold clung to her wrists, delicate filigree chains of snowflakes and stars.
“I’m yours,” she said to Jasper. Love flowered inside her and she sent it to him through the mate-bond as joy filled her veins. “See?”
Jasper touched the bracelets. “Mine,” he whispered. His eyes smouldered into hers.
“Merry Christmas, Jasper,” Abigail said, curling her body around his. He wrapped his arms around her, and she felt safer and more loved than she ever had in her life.
“Merry Christmas, my love,” he said, and Abigail kissed him. He was right. This was the happiest Christmas she had ever known.