Mated to the Storm Dragon (Elemental Mates 1)

He knew why. It was the oldest instinct, the one thing both his dragon and his human half could agree on without the slightest argument.

He’d found h

is mate, and what they needed now was to build a home.

Though he still wanted to take Naomi to Paris. He wanted to show her Rome as well, and the way the South Sea shone when the sun sank into it. He wanted to show her the tops of mountains, and the waterfalls hidden in places only a dragon could reach with ease.

But he also wanted a home they could return to. A home—and a family.

“It’s amazing,” Naomi breathed as he led her inside.

He wasn’t sure whether anyone was home, but just in case, he’d used a private side entrance. He’d announced his return—but he wasn’t quite ready to share Naomi with the entire town yet. That would happen tomorrow.

“I’ll give you a tour once we wake,” Gregory promised as he switched on the light in his bedroom.

Everything was perfectly preserved, even though he hadn’t been home in three months. He drew the curtain, and just as he’d hoped, Naomi gasped again.

Below them, Mountain View spread, the small streets lit by street lamps that gave off a warm, golden light.

One by one, the lights went out again in the windows. Now that the people of Mountain View knew that their dragon had safely returned, they were returning to their own beds.

And up on the top of the mountain, in the large mansion that had never felt as much like home as at this very moment, Gregory drew Naomi into his arms, feeling her soft curves meld to the hard planes of his body.

Her soft, black hair gave off the most delicious scent, something herbal and flowery from her perfume, but beneath it something warm and sensuous that was pure Naomi. Even now, after the long flight and the eventful day, it made his body rouse with sudden, fierce need for her—but Naomi had stayed awake for much of the night, clinging to his back.

Her heart was beating against his chest, slow and regular. It was the same rhythm as the warm breath exhaled against his shoulder.

Naomi had already fallen asleep.

Gently, Gregory wrapped a protective arm around her, drawing her even closer as he closed his eyes to join her in her dreams.

Chapter Eleven: Naomi

Waking up cuddled against Gregory’s perfect, virile body was like a dream come true—but walking through the halls of his home by his side was even better.

Am I still dreaming?

Perhaps she should ask Gregory to pinch her.

His home was gorgeous—she couldn’t think of any other word. There was so much space. Corridors opened up to large rooms, and every now and then they’d turn a corner and find an unexpected nook with a comfy chair and a bookshelf, or a small garden hidden away between walls.

It wasn’t the sort of palace she’d expected, the rich people’s home she knew from magazine spreads where everything looked white and sterile, and where she wouldn’t have dared to sit down for fear of breaking something.

Everything in this home was obviously made to be used. And it had been used. There were all sorts of little hints that filled her with warmth and curiosity about Gregory’s life.

Next to old, leather-bound books there was a well-read paperback of The Hobbit, and among the paintings that doubtlessly came from Gregory’s priceless collection of old masters, there was a child’s drawing that showed the mansion and the small town below.

When they came into a large living room, the sofas weren’t stiff baroque furniture, but comfy and modern, and apparently well-used. There was a large flat screen TV—and there, in the corner next to it, the latest PlayStation.

Naomi grinned. Her eccentric old billionaire wasn’t as old and disconnected from modern life as she’d thought, back when she’d first heard about him.

They had breakfast together in the kitchen. Gregory proved quite adept at making pancakes—although Naomi was sure that he was cheating by using his power over the wind to help him flip them so perfectly.

Still, the pancakes were delicious. They shared them on a small balcony connected to the kitchen, from which they had an amazing view of the town below. The sun had already risen a while ago. On the mountainside below the town, mist was still clinging to the rock, so that it almost seemed as if they were still safely hidden from all trouble above the clouds.

“It’s beautiful,” Naomi sighed when she was at last certain that she couldn’t finish even a single additional pancake. “It seems so peaceful. Like one of those holiday resorts—only those never turn out quite as beautiful as the photos want to make you believe.”

“They call it the dragon’s peace,” Gregory said earnestly. “Where a dragon rules, no quarrel between other shifters is allowed. Well, nowadays we all try to be more civilized to keep humans from noticing us, but long ago, shifters came here because mouse shifters could live without fear next to cat shifters, and dogs next to wolves. Not that we’ve ever had many werewolves here. Until sheriff Banner arrived.”