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.
“I’m so sorry I ever let you out of my sight, my love,” Devon murmured into her ear, and Gemma smiled. She cuddled closer to him, not minding the sweat or their mutual disheveled state. If she could have, she would have stayed like that forever.
“As long as you come and find me again every time, I don’t mind.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Devon
The gold moon shone brightly above them, so round and close that Devon thought he could almost reach up and touch it. In his younger days, he’d tried to do just that. The gold moon had been witness to many of his more petulant, wild days, and now, it would watch again as he once and for all became a dragon of worth. His hands grasped Gemma’s, and though he appreciated the sight of mother moon from the corner of his eye, his gaze rested entirely on her.
It was like they were alone in the night, no one there to bother them or get in their way. But they weren’t alone.
The Goldplains brothers stood guard to either side of them, the golden dragons as strict as always in their ancient roles as healers and guides. Cillian stood further, watching with that amused smirk of his planted firmly on his lips. And then, so far away that he might not have been there at all for all the difference it made, stood Romulus Redblade, Remington’s younger brother and the new Redblade elder dragon.
There was a story there, Devon was sure of it, but he neither cared nor wanted to hear of it on his most joyous of days.
The wedding party waited until the moon was at its highest, dousing them with its golden yellow light, so warm and welcoming. At least for a dragon. Gemma was breathtaking as always. She wore a midnight blue silk gown that went down to the ground, the empire waist cinching at just the right spot to show off her delicious breasts (Devon had made a note to himself to lavish plenty of attention on them when the ceremony was done and he could truly focus on his bride), and the dragon stone glowed with its dark hue on her chest.
She was a vision, a sight he hoped to always be able to stare at in wonder and amazement. His former life seemed so far away, as if it had never happened at all, and he couldn’t have been gladder for it. All those nights partying, bedding women he couldn’t care less about and causing every manner of trouble now seemed little more than child’s play. Mere escapism, a way to kill his time while fate caught up with him.