Dragon's Christmas Captive_BBW / Dragon Shifter Romance Read online

  Table of Contents

  COPYRIGHT

  BOOKS BY ISADORA MONTROSE

  DRAGON’S CHRISTMAS CAPTIVE

  SEXY SNEAK PEEK

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  DRAGON'S POSSESSION PREVIEW

  PHOENIX ABLAZE PREVIEW

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  ALSO BY ISADORA MONTROSE

  Dragon’s Christmas Captive ©Copyright Isadora Montrose 2016

  Dragon’s Possession: Preview ©Copyright Isadora Montrose 2017

  Phoenix Ablaze: Preview ©Copyright Isadora Montrose 2016

  Cover Art by Resplendent Media ©Copyright 2016

  Dragon’s Christmas Captive was previously published as part of the collection Shifters, Secrets & Surprises, 2016.

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the author, Isadora Montrose.

  Warning: These books contain sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers.

  Books by Isadora Montrose

  Bear Necessities

  Bear Possibilities

  Bear Affinities

  Bear Infinities

  Bear Fursuits Books 1-4

  Bear Cubs for Christmas (available only in Bear Fursuits Books 1-4 Bundle)

  Bearly Begun

  Bearly Enough

  Bearly Ever

  Bearly Forever

  Bearly Beloved

  Bear Skin: A Billionaire Oil Bearons Romance

  Dragon’s Treasure

  Dragon’s Successor

  Brides for the Bachelor Bears Books 0-4 Bundle

  Bearly a Bride (available only in Brides for the Bachelor Bears)

  Dragon’s Pleasure

  Bear Pause: A Billionaire Oil Bearons Romance

  Dragon’s Christmas Captive

  Dragon’s Possession

  Phoenix Aglow

  Phoenix Ablaze

  Amazon Author Page: https://amazon.com/author/isadoramontrose

  DRAGON’S CHRISTMAS CAPTIVE

  BOOK 5

  LORDS OF THE DRAGON ISLANDS

  by

  Isadora Montrose

  SEXY SNEAK PEEK

  Her dragon was asleep. Lexi put her hand on his belly and lightly stroked the golden fur that grew between his navel and the darker thicket of his pubes. His muscles contracted pleasingly under her touch. She leaned over and sniffed him. He smelled better and better all the time. He was also much better looking when she too was mortal-sized. It was too bad she could only take this form temporarily. But until he restored the ring of Hrothgar to her, she could not sustain her spell.

  He was too big. Bigger than his father or his brothers. But she supposed that the Princess Alexandra should know better than to fight Destiny. But surely Fate could have found her a mate who was more proportionate? Even in this human form she was far shorter than Theo was. There must be a way to transform herself into a Valkyrie like the Lindorm women. Like the women in his dreams.

  The important thing, however, was to persuade her dragon to do her bidding and to marry her. She had need of a new home, and the Kingdom of Erikki had long ago disappeared under the axes of the monks. She sighed. She was tired of waiting for her prince to come. This oversized dragon looked to be her best bet for finding a new home and a family.

  If only Theodor Lindorm would take her seriously. If only he behaved properly – like the heroes of the old stories who fell profoundly and immediately in love with the princess and went eagerly to do her bidding. Well, she would woo him in his dreams. Theo would fall deeply in love with her and only want to make her happy. She wanted to be happy.

  Unfortunately, now that she had him stretched out before her, she was not perfectly sure what to do with her sleeping dragon. All those long years ago, when she was a girl, she had heard stories of mortal lovemaking. Were those ribald tales true? She reminded herself that all she had to do was walk into his dreams and bring them to life. Easy as riding a squirrel.

  She looked down at herself. She had done a splendid job of matching Theo’s fantasy. Round pink and white thighs. Check. Soft skin. Check. Long red hair. Check. Bouncy rump. Check. Large breasts. Not so much. He would have to be satisfied with what he got. It wasn’t as if this rude and argumentative male was love’s young dream. Of course, she too was not young. Lexi grinned and dove headfirst into Theo’s dreams.

  * * *

  His little mate was dancing for him. She was unbelievably beautiful and unbelievably sexy. Her golden red curls fell over her shoulders and down her round ass past her feet. Somehow those feet pranced and spun without tangling in her long silken locks. And just how did he know that his mate had silky hair? Dimly, he recalled waking when she began painting designs on his skin with hanks of that flaming hair.

  Theo tried to see her better and realized that she had tied him up. He was spread-eagled on a raft in the middle of a lake. Hot summer sun beat down and dazzled his eyes. Impossible. His mate was dancing for him beside his pallet. Despite the glare, he forced his eyes open.

  He was floating on a bed. He was tied hand and foot to four thick, rough trunks of the immense beeches that served as the bedposts. He tugged, but his bonds held. The bed continued to bob. The murmurous waves chuckled all around him. Above him the blue sky was radiant and cloudless. A warm and gentle breeze blew the scent of sea and ripe womanhood to him. Someone was humming the sweetest melody in the world. He turned his head and his naked little mate smiled cheekily at him over one pretty shoulder.

  “Awake?” she cooed.

  She tossed her glorious mane and spun. Her titian locks parted to reveal the pearly beauties of her body. Pert rose-tipped breasts bobbled lightly as she lifted her legs in time to the tune she was humming. Every kick flashed her russet delta and coral lips at him. Her frothing bush smelled like sex incarnate. The swell of her belly and buttocks was everything he had ever found desirable in a woman.

  As if his eyes on her warmed her from the inside out, a flush began at her plump feet and climbed up to her dimpled knees and thighs, until when she turned her back to him and waggled her bottom, her scent was a thousand times stronger and more desirable. His own arousal climbed several notches higher.

  “Come closer,” he begged with his mind. His lips could smile but not speak.

  “Do you like what you see?” she taunted.

  “You know I do.”

  She leaped upward as if she stood, not on the surface of the lake, but on solid ground. But her feet were wet when they landed astride his thighs. And so were the curling ends of her hair. His mate knelt over him and her soft fingers buried themselves in the thick pelt that grew over his pecs. She made a humming noise of great delight and her fingernails traced his tattoos and scored his nipples lightly. He jumped and she beamed at him as if he were a bright pupil.

  “You enjoyed that,” she bragged.

  “I did. What is your name?” he asked. Surely he should know his own mate’s name?

  “Lexi.” She ruffled the hair in his armpits and sniffed her fingers approvingl
y. She licked them in turn.

  Her green eyes held his and mischief lit her face. Her plump lips pursed. He could see the wheels turning in her mind. Theo thought that if she didn’t stop licking her fingers he would explode. Lexi spun around on his abs, giggled and swirled a finger in his damp thatch. She tasted that too.

  “Touch me,” he begged in a silent plea that made his throat ache.

  “I am touching you,” she corrected. She scooched backward and dipped her finger in his navel and twirled it.

  He rose as high off the bed as his bonds would allow and sweat sprang all over his body. He screamed, but no sound but her giggles filled his ears.

  “Good boy,” she said, patting him on one arm.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Örlogskapten Theodor Lindorm allowed himself to be pushed about as his mother adjusted the sweater she had been knitting for him. Long pins at the shoulder and her curved knitting needles threatened to puncture him. He gritted his teeth and endured while she fussed and scolded.

  Anna Lindorm smacked him when he tried to fold his arms across his chest. “Do stand still.” Her hands smoothed the rippled wool. “Your shoulders are broader than when I measured you in March,” she muttered. “Have you been working out?”

  Theo chuckled. “The Navy expects me to stay fit, Mamma.”

  Lady Severn clucked absently. She settled the sweater across Theo’s back. “I think you’re taller too.”

  “Comes with the territory. Haven’t you always said that Papa didn’t stop growing until he was forty?”

  Mamma’s voice was muffled by the four straight pins between her lips. She moved him once more and tugged gently at the neckline. “I’m going to have to cut this open and give it a collar. I do wish you and your brothers would stay the same size for twenty minutes together.”

  “Then you shouldn’t have married a dragon shifter.”

  “The sleeves are not going to sit right. The armholes are too small.”

  Theo yanked the bunching sweater down over his flat stomach. “It seems fine to me,” he murmured. “Even if the sleeves are a little short.”

  “Stop that. I’m going to have to knit day and night to get it done for Christmas,” his mother scolded.

  “If it’s not done by Christmas Eve, my life will be over,” Theo said in a falsetto. “It’ll completely spoil my Christmas if my sweater isn’t finished.”

  “Don’t you be sarcastic with me. You can take it off now – be careful not to let any stitches drop.” Anna pulled the sleeves down over his forearms and set them aside. “I’ll try to finish it before your furlough is over.”

  Theo’s reply was mangled by a couple of pounds of dark blue wool that caught on his shoulder-length hair and bushy beard. “Thank you for making me a sweater, Mamma,” he said solemnly. “I’m the envy of my comrades.”

  “I thought it was your socks they envied,” Anna’s good humor was restored.

  Theo regarded his size seventeens which were encased in hand-knitted black socks. “That too. There’s nothing like real wool socks, and there’s nothing better than ones that are long enough.” He lifted his mother up to his face and kissed her on both cheeks. “I’m a lucky devil. Thank you, Mamma.”

  “Your Uncle Thorvald wasn’t happy that you didn’t come to his house party,” she said out of nowhere once she was on her feet again.

  “The Eldest said nothing to me at Chrissy’s wedding – or when he gave me instructions in September,” Theo pointed out.

  “Well, of course not. He was busy at the wedding. And he had Guild business to discuss in September.” Anna held up one hand. “I know,” she continued, “that you don’t want to discuss how your cousin Lars found his bride. But I fail to see why, if a widower can find a second fated mate, you cannot find your first.”

  Theo shrugged. He knew Mamma meant, ‘Why didn’t you grab Nicole for yourself?’ He tried to explain. “Lars was incredibly fortunate. And Nikki is a wonderful woman. But she was not my destined bride.”

  “I wonder,” Mamma continued, “If it is not time for you to widen your net?”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Maybe you should look at some older women,” she suggested with a scarlet blush.

  Theo smiled behind his beard. He guessed that by ‘older women’ Mamma meant ‘not-a-virgin’. He raised his eyebrows at her. “I don’t think I’m ready to abandon the idea of having a family, just yet.”

  Firelings were important to him. He didn’t know if children weren’t a possibility, if marriage was worthwhile. Dragon shifters could only get dragonesses pregnant. Lars had been lucky beyond believing to find a widowed dragoness. Theo was still seeking a virgin to turn.

  “Maybe you are being too fussy,” she continued.

  Theo bit back a sharp reply. “All I want is my fated mate,” he said. “Is that too much to ask?”

  “Not at all. But maybe your fated mate is not one of your Aunt’s pretty virgins.”

  “Probably not. Aunt Inge’s nieces get younger every year.”

  Anna chuckled. “They do not. You get older. But the Van Waals girls are not the only source of virgins in the world.”

  “I know. And I have looked, Mamma, believe me.” Theo sighed. “Lady Drake has introduced me to any number of tender young women.” He shook his head. “Nice girls, but not mine. I have never met any woman I wanted for a lifetime. Maybe I am just destined to be an old bachelor.”

  “Thirty-four is not old,” she scolded.

  “I’m thirty-five,” he reminded her dryly. “I declared my Mate Hunt when I was twenty-five. That’s a long time to be on the hunt.”

  “Not really.” Anna cleared her throat. “If you aren’t interested in women,” she said, “Well, your father and I just want you to be happy.”

  “That’s not it either, Mamma. I just haven’t met the right woman.”

  “When you do, you bring her home, son.” Anna squared her shoulders. “Even if she’s an older woman.”

  “I love you too, Mamma.” Theo went whistling on his way.

  * * *

  “We’ll go after breakfast.” Lord Severn’s affectionate glance took in his entire family.

  “We need a taller tree this year. Twenty feet will be about right,” Lady Severn announced. “But not too big around. I want a slender tree.”

  “If we get a twenty footer, it will scrape the ceiling in the sitting room – and be twenty feet around,” Theo objected.

  Anna nodded absently at her eldest son’s words. “The star should just miss the ceiling. We need plenty of room for the ornaments. Christina and I went shopping in Oslo.”

  Across the table, Theo locked eyes with his only sister. “I might have known you were to blame.”

  Christina chuckled and nudged their nephew who was next to her. “Do you remember last year, Leo?”

  Leo’s round blue eyes got even more round. He wriggled on his booster seat and only his aunt’s swift grab saved him from falling. “We cut down the biggest tree.” He banged his spoon on the table.

  His mother captured his flailing wrist. “Spoons are for eating,” Ingrid Lindorm said softly. She removed her hand from her son’s smaller one. “Are you ready to finish your porridge?”

  “Yes!” shouted the four-year-old.

  “Sorry,” mouthed Leo’s father Victor, across the table to his mother. He winked at Theo who grinned back. Leo’s antics never failed to delight him.

  Anna’s blue eyes twinkled. “Only people who have eaten all their porridge can come with us. If you don’t eat your breakfast, Leo, you won’t have the strength to chop down a Christmas tree.”

  Her grandson returned to his bowl of mush with renewed energy and began shoveling it in as fast as he could. Now it was Anna’s turn to silently apologize to his parents.

  “All the trees on this island seem so huge, how do you find one that’s only twenty feet tall?” asked Christina’s husband Ivan Sarkany. “Do you have a special plantation?”

  “Not e
xactly, although we are always planting.” Lord Severn wiped his mouth. “But we’ve been scouting out the best trees for months. We put tags on the ones we thought most beautiful back in the summer. So today we only have to decide which one will make the best Christmas tree.”

  “I haven’t been out in the forest since March,” Theo said.

  “That’ll give the rest of us a head start,” Christina cut in merrily.

  “Yes, but,” began Gunnar, the youngest of Anna and Severn Lindorm’s children. Whatever he had been going to say, his uncertain bass was smothered by its abrupt transition to reedy treble. He ducked his red face and concentrated on eating.

  “It’s a family tradition, Ivan,” Christina explained. “We all want to be the one to find our tree.”

  “So it’s a contest?” Ivan looked around at his in-laws. He reached for Christina’s hand.

  “Certainly not,” said Anna serenely. Her placid murmur was drowned out by raucous laughter.

  Christina patted her husband’s knee. “We Lindorms are a touch competitive.”

  The room rocked with the laughter of happy dragons.

  It was good to be home, Theo decided. Good to see his parents. Victor and Christina were obviously happy with their fated mates. Victor and Ingrid’s new son was asleep in his cot. Their eldest son was as sturdy and naughty a fireling as had ever borne the Lindorm name. Christina was glowing in her first pregnancy. Ivan adored her. Gunnar had grown another six inches. There was nothing to compare with being surrounded by family.

  Only he, the eldest son, was still unmarried and unmated. He and little Gunnar. It looked as though his fourteen-year-old baby brother and his nephews were all the children he would ever have. But it was Christmastime, and he needed to put his private disappointments away and join wholeheartedly in the family rituals.

  They gathered in the back hall of the sprawling house to put on their winter coats. Leo was coaxed into his puffy red snowsuit and padded gloves. Ingrid announced that she was staying home with little Thorvald. The rest of the family went laughing and chattering into the white and frozen beauty of Severn Island.