THE DRAGON OF HOUSE BLACK

Chapter 37: Quidditch World Cup

Its been 3 months and I still cannot believe that Draco no longer houses a dragon within him.

I'd had a really hard time with believing him that day we landed at home. When he'd sat me down, forced Aegon to snuggle me, and told me the price he paid to be here with us. With his family.

Strangely enough though, we still have a mate bond. Its very different from what we had before. We can't fully speak to one another mind to mind like before, but we can get a vague understanding of what the other is trying to say. Emotions come through CLEARLY. Whether we want them to or not, those seem to hit with an unwavering clarity.

For example right now he's watching me change from my lazy clothes into his National team jersey, and I can practically taste the lust coming off him. His silver orbs locked on the swell of my stomach. So instead of pulling the bottom half over my bump, I leave it uncovered and swish my hips the entire time I stalk over to my husband.

Draco's eyes snap upward, locked now on my face instead.

Just before I reach him, I stop and take a second to really take in my husband in all his glory. His white blonde curls are wild just like I love, his dimples are popped with a genuine smile gracing his godly handsome face. The white National Team Jersey is detailed in red, his country, his name and number all shining in the light of a new day.

Doesn't hurt either that the jersey, and his flying leathers are so tight they're like a second skin on his sculpted form.

Reaching forward, Draco's fingers flare widely before nearly encompassing my baby bump beneath his large palm. When he closes his eyes in bliss, a satisfied sigh escaping his lips, I nearly melt into a puddle on the floor.

There's something so incredibly sexy about a man in awe of your changing form. To see a man wholly riveted by the small differences cause by our growing child inside me. Something so breathtaking about the massive man before me dropping to his knees and peppering my belly with reverent kisses.

And when he presses his ear flush with the side of my stomach, I nearly forget how to breathe. Then he's talking to our baby, something he does as much as possible but never gets old.

"Hi little one. It's daddy again. I just wanted to tell you I love you. And that you've the most amazing mummy in the whole world. We can't wait to meet you little one, but only after you bake as long as you're supposed to.

Now we've got that bit of business settled, Daddy's going to go win his Cup match and claim a kiss from your smoking hot mummy."

With another kiss, he stands shooting me a wink as he heads over to the portkey humming on the kitchen counter. The rubber chicken starts to vibrate softly against the marble top, indicating its nearly time to head to Toronto, Canada for the Quidditch World Cup. I quickly pull my shirt down, snatching my enchanted bag as I nearly skip over to the waiting portkey and my husband.

With me firmly planted under his arm into his side, he grabs it just in time for us to transport to Canada.

Where I'll watch the most handsome, talented seeker in the world win his match against New Zealand.
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Watching Draco still be able to fly is a wonderful thing. A true sight to behold.

He was even signed to another team since his dragon no longer resides within him, he was deemed fair enough to play. Since he didn't carry the 'extra advantages' being a dragon shifter carried any longer.

Montrose of course was the first to send a contract, to which Draco promptly set on fire the old fashion way. He had offers from every team. Even the Holyhead Harpies, though they were only interested in him in a coaching capacity.