Jarek (Scifi Alien Weredragon Romance) (Dragons of Preor Book 1) Read online

  No, he would not condemn her to a worthless male.

  “This might hurt a little,” she murmured.

  Then her hands were on his skin, on flesh and scales. Her delicate fingers stroked the base of his spine, digits sliding higher over his body. Warm liquid followed in her wake, the heat soothing some of the tension from his muscles. Dragons were not ones for water, they preferred the moist air of the skies, but the feeling was not unpleasant. The liquid sluiced down his backside and thighs to drain away. Convenient. Sand followed, carried away by the waters and he wondered if it was possible to create something similar on his ship. His mate would enjoy Earth showers when they traveled the stars and—

  And his mate was not joining him in the stars.

  Her path traveled farther up his back and a new tension thrummed through him—one born of awareness and anticipation. His body recognized his mate, his staff growing hard between his thighs. But his nerves also knew of the pain to come and that battled his desire for Melissa. Tension filled his veins, nerves alight with uneasiness, and his muscles silently demanded he flee from the oncoming agony. But he could not—would not. He was not a weak Preor to run from pain.

  “I’m getting ready to spray some of the smaller cuts.”

  Jarek gritted his teeth and braced himself for what was to come. “Do it.”

  The first splash did not send him to his knees, but the second nearly did. When her fingers joined the showering of liquid, he stumbled forward, forearms coming to rest on the tile in an effort to keep him upright. He pressed his forehead to the cool surface and closed his eyes. He focused on his breathing, on enduring the coming bouts of agony.

  She reached another gash, this one along the wing itself. His attacker must have missed the first time or attempted to injure him further once the damage was done. His wings trembled, the motion involuntary.

  A sign of weakness.

  Unacceptable.

  He battled to remain still, to stay immovable while his nerves burned from her actions.

  “Speak to me,” he rasped, his dragon’s voice overriding his two-legged tone. “Tell me of your life. Tell me how you came to be with the Ujal. Tell me anything.”

  Her voice could get him through the worst of this torture.

  Melissa’s rhythmic strokes paused, the water cascading over the same spot instead of moving on. He wondered if she would truly answer him—if she would fully tell him of herself. Yet he should not have worried for that was when she spoke.

  “I was born in a small town just outside Phoenix, Arizona.” She chuckled, the spray wavering along his wing. “You know, regular family. Stay-at-home mom and hard-working dad.” She grew quiet for a moment, her attentions continuing silently. “I thought we had the perfect family, but it was a lie. It was always a lie.” He hardly heard her whisper above the pattering water. “My life is a great big lie, Jarek.”

  “Shaa kouva…” he could not remain silent. He wanted to turn and pull her into his arms, but he was kept from such an action by his wings and their position. “Never speak of yourself in such a way.”

  She did not say a word for a while, the water showering the same spot over and over again. But when she did release words, they were barely audible. “Have you heard about the missing younglings?”

  “Yes.” He’d also heard his mate’s family was somehow involved but he was unsure of the details.

  “It was my brother.” Her voice wavered and he fisted his hands, cursing his positioning. She needed his touch, needed the soothing connection of their bodies, but he could do nothing. “My brother worked with one of the Ujal and they created babies and they sold…” She trembled, fingers jarring his deeper wounds. Still he remained quiet, drawing on his warrior training to keep silent. “My brother, my twin, helped an Ujal scientist create Ujal younglings and then sold them across the globe. My niece, Tabitha, is one of those children. I have… evil in my veins. In my heart. I came to the Ujal to help them. To atone for what he did. And, God, Jarek… some of them went to—”

  Her sob tore through his heart and he decided he did not care if the salted sand remained within his wounds or if he hurt himself further with his next actions. His soul called for him to comfort his kouva and he would do so. Now.

  Jarek drew his wings close. “Step back, shaa kouva.”

  “Wha…”

  He sensed her movement and slowly turned. The moment she was within sight, he pulled her close, drawing her into his arms. He had no thoughts of seduction as her clothed body pressed against his bare skin. His focus remained on healing his beloved’s heart.

  “Shaa kouva, do not cry so.” He lowered his head, closing his eyes as he drew her scent into his lungs. The nozzle fell from her fingers to clatter against the wall of the basin. The water continued to bathe his legs, but that was unimportant when faced with soothing his mate’s soul. “Your tears batter my heart.”

  She did not seem to hear him and instead, collapsed onto his chest. Cheek over his heart. He wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her even closer. To think she carried the weight of another’s guilt… They were not so different.

  “You are not responsible for the deeds of your brother.”

  “He sold children. Some to good parents, I’m sure. But some to people who… use them, Jarek. Those babies… They have endured so much and we still haven’t found them all.”

  “But you will. The Preor have helped and will continue.”

  A different kind of wetness bathed his chest. A single droplet of warmth and he realized it was his beloved’s tears. “Even after what happened to your ship? Not everyone—”

  “No, not everyone agrees with the actions of our leaders, but many do. Not every Preor can be made happy. It is a study in futility to try. Many though… Many recall the great conflict. Many recall the screams of dragonlets and females. Many realize their hope for a family resides on Earth. I fight for them.” He closed his eyes and drew in more of her scent. He savored the sweetness, vowing to remember it until the end of his days should his next words force her away from him. “It is those I atone for.”

  “Atone?”

  He had been atoning for many turnings. Many times many. “Just as you regret your family’s actions, I regret those of my sire, as well.” He would not hide anything from his mate no matter how much he wished to hold them close. Perhaps she would do him the favor of rejecting him so he would not have to see her pain when he walked away from her. For a moment, he’d forgotten the reason for his journey to Earth, forgot all he suffered to correct after his father had… “My father was the Science Master on Preor. All looked up to him. All wished for his knowledge.” His throat ached and his eyes stung with his own tears.

  But Preor War Masters did not cry.

  “Many wished to use the knowledge for their own gains.” He withdrew one of his arms and placed a knuckle beneath her chin. With gentle pressure, he encouraged her to raise her gaze to his. Perhaps the Knowing was more aware of what his soul called for than himself. “Some did use his work, and it resulted in Preor’s destruction. Your brother held evil in his heart and hurt younglings. My father held some of the same in his own and…” His lungs froze, body attempting to keep the words within his heart.

  Memories surged forward. The first moment he realized his father’s crimes. A dragonlet of four years knocked down by a warrior.

  “Ikpor,” he’d sneered, booted foot holding young Jarek’s cheek against the dirt. Worthless. Garbage. Son of a Skor who should have been killed like his father. Executed using his own creation.

  It was then he had understood why he did not have a dam or a sire. Why his sire’s brothers and dam’s sisters no longer spoke with him. They avoided him on the street. They pretended not to hear his cries or pleas.

  They pretended his was dead. At times, he wondered if he would be better off gone to the skies. Then he would remember his purpose and recall he wished to be a great and worthy male, one who could only help the Preors. He would not be p
ainted with his father’s brush.

  Even if the shame still claimed him.

  Jarek forced the last words past his lips. “And he murdered dragonlets and females. My father was Taulass joi Claron—leader of the opposition and creator of the virus that decimated the Preor people.”

  14

  Jarek didn’t say another word after his admission and Melissa didn’t press him. Instead, she silently returned to their shower, bathing away the sand before they moved to the bedroom. Water still clung to his skin, the bronze flesh sparkling with the clear droplets. He couldn’t dry himself, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it for him. Not when the Knowing spurred her desire for him. Jarek was in no condition to deal with her ogling and she wasn’t sure she could keep her hands—or mouth—to herself.

  Sure, he’d said he wasn’t mating her, but… he hadn’t mentioned kisses, right? No. She wasn’t kissing him. She wasn’t. Someday she’d believe herself.

  The second they stepped from the bathroom, she strode to the bedroom door. “Hold on one sec. I’ll grab a blanket for you to lay on and you can climb onto the bed.”

  “If you give me a drying cloth, I can—”

  Her cheeks flushed and she squeezed her eyes shut. “No, it’ll be easier on you to air dry. I’ll be right back.”

  Melissa fled, racing down the hall to the linen closet. The worn blanket she sought was within easy reach and she snatched it before quickly retracing her steps. Of course, by then she’d opened her eyes—she had to see where she was walking—but forgot to close them when she returned. Why? Because she walked in and spied a very muscular ass begging to be nibbled. A lot. Hell, she wanted to nibble him all over even if he wouldn’t mate her. The desire was there, simmering and ready to boil over. She craved him—his touch, his taste, the feel of his skin beneath her palms. Right or wrong, mating or not, she wanted Jarek sen Claron.

  Jarek joi Melissa if they mated. She’d seen the name Sece used in medical. She’d heard Evuklar demand Jarek’s file be altered to reflect his mated status.

  She paused just inside the room, cheeks hot from her blush, blanket clutched to her chest. Her nipples turned into hard nubs within her bra, the tips pressed tightly against the bits of lace. Her center heated, pulsing with a rush of need and arousal. She wanted him and her body prepared for his possession. Even if he wasn’t going to take her. At least, that’s what he claimed. Yet before they cleansed his wounds his cock had been hardening and then…

  So, he wanted her, but didn’t want to want her. Because of his past? Hers? Why didn’t he desire to claim her?

  She cleared her throat, drawing Jarek’s gaze. She held up the folded blanket and gave it a small shake. “I found it. If you’ll step back, I’ll—”

  He didn’t let her finish. Instead, he was beside her in two long strides before he took the cloth from her hands. “It is a sad day if I depend wholly on my kouva and can no longer do for myself.”

  With one jerk of his arms and snap of his wrists, the blanket was unfolded and tossed across the bed. It was done with a minimum of movements and quick efficiency, but he suffered for the actions. No, Jarek didn’t make a sound, but he didn’t have to. Melissa saw his back. She saw how his muscles rippled and flexed. She also saw how the movements pulled on his injuries. Bright blood oozed from the wounds and she sighed.

  “It’s also a sad day when a man can’t let someone help when they’re obviously in pain.” She glared at him and he merely quirked a brow in response.

  Infuriating man—er, Preor.

  “Come and rest with me, shaa kouva. I have need of your touch.” Then of course he had to say something sweet while looking at her with those deep green eyes that seemed to see into the depths of her soul.

  She wanted to stay annoyed but she also saw the pain covering his features, the deeply carved lines of exhaustion and pain he attempted to hide. He was hurt, tired, and had just laid a dark secret at her feet. He needed tender care, not frustration.

  Right. She could do that—could be that—for him.

  She padded forward and rested her palm on his, allowing him to pull her closer to the bed. “Lie with me. Rest with me.”

  Melissa raised her eyebrows. “Okay, but I need to tend to your back first. Sece gave me gauze and an ointment to use. It’s supposed to keep your scales supple and disinfect your wounds.”

  Jarek simply shook his head. “Soon, but not yet.” He drew her even closer until their chests brushed. Her nipples turned into firm nubs, her nerves lighting with pleasure and need. “I need you at my side, beneath my wing.”

  “Jarek,” she whispered his name, attention captured by him.

  “Lie with me, Melissa.” His rough hand cupped her cheek, callused thumb brushing her lower lip. “Let us forget the past for a little while. Let us forget those intent on destroying this. Let us simply enjoy each other’s company. Live in this moment with me. We can worry over others later.”

  And she wanted it more than she could have ever imagined.

  “But what about your wings?” Could they share the bed without hurting him?

  Jarek quirked his lips. “I am damaged but not so injured I cannot rest with my kouva. I will not be able to hold you as I wish, but you will be at my side.” Gentle pressure had her tipping her head back and then his lips were on hers. The first brush was soft and tentative, and the second held his banked passion. The third… The third became a passionate possession.

  Melissa opened for him, granting him access, and he took advantage of her acquiescence. His tongue swept into her, stroking hers with his own. His flavors burst across her taste buds, imbuing her with his taste, and she moaned into his mouth. She stepped closer, unwilling to have distance between them, and placed her palms on his bare chest.

  Their tongues tangled, spurring her desire and need for him. There was no past, no heartache or worries in that moment. It was pure pleasure and unadulterated craving. Her nipples hardened once more in preparation for his touch and her pussy ached with the need to be filled by his thick length.

  And he was thick. Thick and hard and long and… firm against her hip. Jarek was just as aroused as her, his cock responding to her taste and touch. Their passion was shared, his craving easily matching hers. She wiggled even closer, wanting to feel the heat between their bodies. His dick throbbed and pressed into her lower stomach, and she was tempted to grip his shaft, stroke and caress him until he was mad with the need to…

  “We are mates, but I will not mate you.”

  His haunting words raced through her mind and she squeezed her eyes shut as she pulled away from the kiss. She didn’t let him see her face, sure her emotions were visible in her expression. The heartache and longing for him raced in her veins, banishing her arousal.

  She wanted him but hated that she did. Especially since he didn’t feel the same, even if his cock was hard as a rock. They couldn’t mate just because she made his dick hard.

  “Shaa kouva,” he growled, his breaths coming in heaving gasps.

  He leaned against her, his chin resting on the top of her head while she pressed her forehead to his chest. She gradually slowed her breathing, fighting for a calm that seemed forever out of reach. “That…” The word was a rasp due to lingering arousal and she cleared her throat. “Shouldn’t have happened.”

  “That was perfection.” His voice was as harsh as her own.

  Melissa lifted her head and met Jarek’s yellow-eyed, dragonish stare. Their passion obviously brought out his inner nature and… she should have been scared. Or worried at least. But she felt nothing but… safe. Dragon or not, alien or not, she felt secure. “Many human men are able to fuck a woman and move on. They don’t have any emotional entanglements and can easily walk away. But I can’t. I can’t kiss you, touch you like this, and not have it lead somewhere. You’ve already said you won’t mate me despite the Knowing.” She shook her head. “I’m not strong enough to—”

  He grasped her biceps and gave her a small shake, the yellow
in his eyes flaring brighter. “You are the strongest female I know. Never speak of yourself in such a way again.”

  “But I’m not strong enough to mate, is that it?”

  “You do not wish to mate me,” he countered.

  And yeah, maybe she’d rejected the idea when the Knowing struck. She hadn’t been prepared for the connection—to have her choices wrenched from her grasp. Yet they’d spent hours together and now… Now she wasn’t so sure.

  “I didn’t want my choices taken from me. That’s different.”

  “You fled.”

  Melissa stepped away from him, yanking her arms from his grasp. “Am I running now?”

  “You are only here because you have no choice.” The words weren’t much more than a growl. “While I cannot stand the thought of being away from you.”

  She snorted and shook her head. “But you won’t mate me, right?”

  “How can I, Melissa? How can I condemn my mate to a life with half a Preor? I cannot fly. I cannot lead. I cannot serve Preor.” Scales rippled over his skin, turning his tanned flesh to deep green. “If I cannot take to the skies nor serve my planet, I am reduced to nothing.”

  “You’re not nothing. You could never be nothing. Not after all you’ve done—”

  “I am reduced to being the son of Taulass joi Claron, murderer, and I would not wish that disgrace upon anyone. Least of all my mate.” The scales traveled down his chest, painting him with more of the dark hue. “I will not have you suffer the hatred of my people.”

  “Weren’t you the one who told me my brother’s actions aren’t a reflection of me?”

  “Yet others still treat you as if you stole those younglings.” He shook his head. “I would shield you from all pain. Not just physical, but emotional as well. If we mate, I cannot separate you from myself. I cannot hide their stares from you. I cannot silence their words.”

  “I’m not weak, Jarek.” She ignored the stinging of her eyes and the blurring that accompanied the pain. She would not cry. She would not.