A fierce tremor stole along his muscles. Jarrek’s breath hitched, that voice weakening his body. His skin burned where the commander held his wrists. Time seemed to stop.
The only thoughts that swirled through his mind were thoughts of those angled, firm lips and what they tasted like. Thoughts of the man’s body completely covering his as he filled…
Oh god, no. This can’t be. He can’t be my…
A sharp thud shattered the haze that conquered Jarrek. The commander’s focused gaze turned distant a second before he crumbled to the floor at his feet.
Jarrek scrambled back, eyes wide, mouth slack. He shot a peeved Dante a quick glance before turning his attention back to the fallen man.
“What the fuck, brother? What just happened?” Dante demanded, tossing aside the pipe he had used to knock the commander out. His brother didn’t wait for an answer before he unfastened a watch-like band from the commander’s wrist and tossed it on the counter. His piercing gaze shot up to Jarrek. “Jarrek, we don’t have time to stand around.”
“I got this one. I’ll bring him back to the hideaway.” Jarrek resented the idea of touching the downed commander, but managed to sling one limp arm around his shoulders and hoist him up. Shit, why did the guy’s body have to feel so damn hard and hot and nice? With a groan, he added, “Don’t get caught here.”
Dante flashed him a wicked smile. “I’m not getting caught, brother. I’ll be doing the catching.”
Jarrek dragged the unconscious commander down the walkway to the loading dock. He began to shift, moving the commander’s body until he had a solid hold on him, and dove out of the transporter. The entire flight down to the ground, his tried to wrap around the reactions the commander procured. He didn’t know who these dragons were, what their intentions were. He couldn’t risk allowing the haunting whisper of the truth manifest inside his mind. He couldn’t dare open himself up to the very real fact that this man, this commander, this dragon was his…
Jarrek landed in a choked clearing closer to the hideaway. He weighed the risks of remaining in his dragon form to make the trek easier with the commander’s body. His scales protected him from the full brunt of the man’s hard form, but it didn’t protect him from the taunting whisper.
Jarrek shed his dragon, secured the commander around his shoulders, and hurried back to the hideaway. He slipped through the rock-like façade that opened to a dark, dirt path leading into an underground cavern. The basic wiring and the two dangling light bulbs were the only source of electricity and light. The place was primitive otherwise, except for Jarrek’s stash of artillery, a cot, and a laptop.
Cyon looked up from the laptop, and quickly shot to his feet. “Where’s Tallis?”
Jarrek moved to the cot and dropped the sack of commander on the cot with a grunt. The man stirred as he hiked his booted feet onto the thin mattress.
“He wasn’t on the transporter.” Jarrek wiped his hands on his pants and shrugged. “They took one of ours, I took one of theirs. If they want this one back, they’ll give us Tallis without question.”
Cyon groaned, shutting the laptop and placing it on a small three-legged table. “Jarrek, we can’t bother to negotiate. Not with Tallis’s life. We haven’t a clue who that man was.” Cyon’s gaze narrowed on the commander. “Who this guy is.”
“Cyon, you’re the oldest. You were fifteen when our fathers fled Khorone. Do none of them seem familiar to you?”
“We were all sheltered much of the time due to outside dangers. I wasn’t privy to details.” Cyon rounded the cot and stared down at the commander. The look on his brother’s face prodded the jealous beast within Jarrek.
A feeling he stamped out.
“He might look familiar, but I can’t be certain,” Cyon said. Lifting his gaze to Jarrek, he motioned to the wall. “Until we make certain he’s an ally and not an enemy, we should keep him bound. When Dante returns, we might want to consider returning to your home base. It won’t take long before we’re discovered if we stay here.”
Jarrek dropped onto a single stool and snatched up a bottle of water from a plastic basket on the dusty ground. After polishing off the entire thing in a matter of gulps, he let out a loud ahhh and tossed it aside.
He didn’t want to look at the guy lying on his cot. The cot he’d slept in for the past few weeks. The cot that would now hold a scent that messed with his head and his body.
Biting back the urge to scowl, Jarrek folded his hands behind his head and jutted his chin toward his captive. “I have sedatives with me. If Dante doesn’t get his ass back here in the next hour or so, I’ll leave with the enemy and make sure he’s kept in line.”
“Don’t harm him,” Cyon warned. The silver flash that lit his eyes warned of his sincerity. “Not until we can verify who he is.”
“He’s a commander.”
That tiny whisper inside his head revealed what he couldn’t bear to swallow.
He’s your mate.
“Your captain, Zhett, is the one who took Tallis.”
“Yes. Tallis is his mate.”
“And I’m your mate.” Jarrek smiled, placing a hand over Valken’s biceps. The soft touch connected with something lost in Valken’s darkness, something sweet and bright. “I’m lucky.”
Valken chuckled. “No, darling. I’m the lucky one.” He took Jarrek’s hand and lifted his knuckled to his lips. “Trust me on this.”
“So your other friends, Tyrus and Gherret. What are their jobs on this mission?”
“Tyrus is a technology genius. He creates programs that would blow your government’s best gadget away. The man can devise just about anything. Gherret’s contribution is his mind. He is a true genius”-Valken squinted his eyes-“but too literal at times.”
“What kind of dragons are on Khorone?”
“Any and all. Elemental dragons, sub species of those elements. If there is a breed of dragon, it’s on Khorone.”
Jarrek nodded thoughtfully, allowing Valken’s story to soak in. Valken leaned over, brushing his fingers across Jarrek’s cool cheek.
“Will you do me a favor?” Valken asked. Jarrek nuzzled his cheek into Valken’s palm. “Don’t dye your hair again.”
Jarrek laughed, shifting from his chair to Valken’s lap. He straddled Valken’s thighs and pressed a taunting kiss to his lips. “What happens if I do?”
“You don’t want to find out.” Valken’s voice dropped, and the grin that tugged at his mouth was pure mischief. He gripped Jarrek’s hips and lifted him to the edge of the table. With his palm flat to Jarrek’s crotch, he rubbed the man’s half-swollen dick. “Anticipation is a bitch.” Valken straightened up and braced his arm on the side of Jarrek’s hip, brushing an airy kiss across his mate’s exposed throat. “Foreplay can be both incredible and sheer fucking torture.”
Jarrek reclined on his elbows. Valken smirked, flicking open the button of his mate’s jeans. He pulled down the zipper at an excruciating speed, releasing tooth by tooth. Jarrek’s eyes darkened, his pupils stretching to slits. The man’s breaths were shallow.
“I can handle either, Jarrek.” Valken’s nostrils flared as the scent of Jarrek’s heady musk filled his lungs. A deep growl reverberated along his mind, thin curls of smoke escaping from the corners of his mouth. He dipped his hand into the jeans, wrapped his fingers around the engorged shaft, and released his lover’s erection. A fierce wave of hunger pummeled him as he smeared the warm juice dribbling from Jarrek’s slit along the underside of his dick. “I can deliver either.”
“Mmm. I wanted this earlier.” Jarrek spread his knees wide. “Fuck, your hand feels damn nice. You’re so hot.”
“Runs in the blood, darling.”
As lovely as Jarrek’s dick felt sliding through his fingers, Valken wasn’t satisfied with the routine foreplay. He leaned down and licked the man’s tip, savoring his first taste of Jarrek’s juice with a long, low groan. Jarrek’s hips jerked. A thump echoed, followed by the clattering of silverware on stoneware. When Valken turned his eyes up, he found Jarrek flat on his back, hands tugging at his hair.
“You’re going to suck me off.” Jarrek shuddered. “Oh god. Your mouth. Your mouth…”
Valken showed him exactly what his mouth was capable of. He swallowed the length of Jarrek back, opening his throat to accept him to the root. He ran his tongue against the underside of the man’s cock, sucking hard, then releasing the pressure. He came off his lover’s erection and swirled his tongue around his tip, teasing the ridge below his slit. Lapping at the flowing juice then giving a taut suck unleashing a writhing, bucking Jarrek. One of the plates crashed to the floor and shattered.
“Fuck, Val!” Jarrek thrust his hips upward, sinking himself down Valken’s open throat. “Oh, hell I’m gonna bust hard.”
“No, darling. You aren’t. I won’t let you.”
“To hell you won’t.”
Valken chuckled. The vibrations sent Jarrek into a shrieking frenzy, one that sent the last plate to the ground. He grabbed his mate’s hips and tugged them off the edge of the table, twisted him onto his chest, and pinned him with a single hand between his shoulder blades.
“I will let you come when I say.” Valken yanked Jarrek’s jeans down to his thighs and squeezed one fine globe of his ass. The corner of his mouth twitched. Sweet, sweet gods, this man was a gift. “And right now, I’m not allowing that.”