Valor: Dragons of Riddich, #6

By Mel Teshco

The dragons will search the universe for their one true mate...

As a breeder, Rebel Mayfield attracts Riddich dragons like bees to honey. But to guarantee her next dragon capture, she has no choice other than to lay a trap for sharp-witted, blond-headed Valor. She waits in a dark alley, and when her breeder instincts sense Valor near, she signals to her male colleague to approach and pretend he's hurting her. Valor falls for the ruse and is so enraged he nearly kills the male operative. Until the Paranormal Detection Agency—Rebel's team—step in and take Valor as their prisoner.

As Valor lays chained on a gurney, his body bloodied and bruised, and the air too frosty to call on his dragon, he dreams of escape along with hundreds of ways to kill everyone in the underground facility. Everyone except Rebel. He's got a special kind of hell for her. He'll use her body again and again before taking his ultimate revenge. That it's Rebel who gives him the opportunity to escape might be her only salvation … but only if she can handle his dragon's physical demands.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mel Teshco
• Release date: Jul 9, 2019
• ISBN: 9781386961598

Mel Teshco

As a rather quiet, introverted child, Mel Teshco would never have believed it possible she'd one day be making a living writing hot, erotic stories and meeting so many other wonderful writers. She can most often be found at her computer, giving into her children and/or cats demands and occasionally/often drinking home brew, which brings out her sociable (i.e. loud) side. Her long-suffering husband is still waiting for retirement. She loves hearing from readers and will answer all emails at [e-mail].

Book preview

Valor

By Mel Teshco

Copyright 2019 Mel Teshco

Cover Art by Kellie Dennis at Book Cover by Design

www.bookcoverbydesign.co.uk

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy.

Acknowledgements

A HUGE thank you to my family, who have been through so much these last few years with me while I struggled with health issues and time management. I love you all so much xxx

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Epilogue

Chapter One (Lusting the Enemy)

Chapter One

Valor Nicholz rattled the chains that bound him to the gurney, the cuffs around his ankles, his wrists, already stuck to his skin thanks to the many layers of dried blood.

Stop trying to escape, asshole. These chains are unbreakable and thanks to your blood loss and starvation, you’re too weak now to shift into dragon.

Even worse was the damn cold. Riddichian dragon shape shifters loved the heat, thrived on it. The cold weakened them, sucked away their energy. He exhaled slowly, the holding room’s icy cold air frosting his breath. He’d have done anything to breathe fire on the sadistic scientists and soldiers who entered the room on a daily basis.

I shouldn’t have been caught in the first place, he growled, his voice echoing eerily in the tiny room with its one-sided mirror.

He’d been such a fool, enticed by the flame-haired bitch who’d deceived him. And now here he was, locked in some underground facility, in a sterile, freezing cold room with less regard than what humans gave a tick or a leech.

And yet he sensed her—traitor, she-devil, spawn of evil—long before the door unclicked, swung open, and she stepped inside. Rebel Mayfield. Though her name was imprinted on his brain, he refused to use it. She might be a beautiful temptress, but he loathed her with everything he had.

He loathed even more that, although his limbs were immobilized and his body slowly healing from his last torture session, his cock still rose like a flag the moment she was near.

Her stare brushed over his nudity before lingering on his arousal. She bit her bottom lip, sending him an uncertain smile before she finally stepped forward.

He hid a savage grin. Like it or not she was stimulated by him, as a breeder she couldn’t not be. That she was also nervous amused him no end. She should be scared. He’d tear her apart when he escaped, and kill every one of her colleagues who’d dared to touch him.

A pity all thought of retribution faded as his nostrils flared and he inhaled her musky, hormone drenched scent. She was unquestionably turned-on. Her panties must be drenching wet. Goddess help him, it was as if her bouquet had been made especially for him.

He bit back a growl and shook his head, loathing how even more blood crusted his now overlong blond hair to the sides of his face and his nape. The humans here were the monsters, not their prisoners who were kept chained in these tiny rooms.

Her high heels click-clacked across the short expanse of hard, concrete floor. No combat boots this time? He cocked a brow. Her shoes were the least of his concern. Instead of the usual shapeless camouflage uniform, a dress clung lovingly to her slender curves, the black and white patterned fabric showcasing her body to perfection. It was also low-cut, exposing a good portion of her gorgeous tits.

He bit back a groan. Had the PDA decided to use the breeder this time to seduce his secrets from him? Had they gotten that desperate already for answers? He’d been here—what? Four weeks? Five?—it was impossible to keep track under the constantly bright, artificial lights.

It was only lucky he knew the exact date he and the rest of the Riddich crew had crash-landed on Earth, so he knew when to reunite with King Asher, Princess Dahlia, Baron and Wyatt. Because he would escape this hellhole ... sooner rather than later.

I brought you food, she said softly.

The sweet tones of her voice sent his body into rapture and his mind into meltdown. Fuck.

But then his stomach gurgled, his more immediate needs all too apparent. He might want to hurl the food into the farthest corner of the room, but eating every last morsel would help him to regain some strength and speed up his body’s slowed-to-a-crawl healing process.

"Are you hoping to soften me up—or should I say harden me up—for my next interrogation, breeder?" he drawled.

She flinched, her luscious lips thinning and her already alabaster face paling further. I guess it’s obvious that I’m a breeder?

Of course. He nodded at his cock that lay thick as a plank and just as hard on his belly. I wouldn’t get a hard-on for you otherwise, now, would I?

I guess not, she said, her face flushing a scarlet that was a few shades lighter than her gorgeous flame hair.

Valor mentally cursed the immediate need to reassure and tell her any hot-blooded male would desire her. Bloody hell. She was his enemy, and he was seriously losing touch with reality. You mentioned food? he gritted out.

She nodded stiffly. I did.

He banged against the restraints, barely feeling the flash of discomfort and the hot spill of more blood. It wasn’t even a twinge compared to the agony of shifting shape and the brutal, once-monthly pain rituals his people had deliberately endured before they were all but wiped out. Snuffed out like flames in the wind.

At least that pain had enabled him to endure the torture and degradation the PDA scientists and soldiers enjoyed inflicting on their prisoners. He’d suffered in silence while the scientists had tested his pain levels, poked and prodded with needles and cut with scalpels and other devices. The humans had enjoyed his torment and misery, his silence exacerbating their need to hurt him even more.

Bastards.

He glowered, hating the breeder and her friends almost as much as his Tantonic enemies that’d come so close to eliminating his race. Are you going to free me so I can eat?

She held his stare. The restraints stay on. I’ll be feeding you.

His throat closed, his heart pounding loud in his ears. Every one of his senses seemed enhanced as she stepped closer to him and then bent to proffer him a small triangular cut sandwich.

Her beautiful, emerald-green eyes lifted to meet his hard stare. It’s basic, she conceded, but it will keep you alive.

Her breasts were tantalizingly close, her scent seemingly reaching out to caress his dirty, blood-encrusted body. But he couldn’t touch, couldn’t fuck, couldn’t even pretend she didn’t affect him when his cock jerked and thickened, impossibly harder.

He squeezed his eyes shut for just a moment, holding onto the constant simmer of his inner rage before he looked at her once more and growled, I’m sure you and the rest of the PDA parasites don’t want me to die before I give up all my secrets.

She stiffened, then shoved the whole triangle of bread into his mouth. He nearly choked before he bit into the soft sandwich with its filling he couldn’t name. As much as he wanted to spit out the food so that it landed at the breeder’s delicate, high-heeled feet, he couldn’t afford to waste any calories and therefore his strength.

Instead he savored the explosion of flavor that hit his taste buds. He identified a meat of some sort, and something tangy and a little bit sharp. He’d relied on his Riddich rations for as long as possible, and had eaten very little Earth food since crash-landing here. He knew little to nothing about what regular fare humans ate, except for those advertisements he’d seen on the Riddichians craft’s screen-capture.

Ham, cheese and pickles, she said as he chewed then finally swallowed. She tipped her head to one side, a glint of curiosity in her stare. Is it anything like what your people ate?

He inhaled sharply, ignoring her question to ask one of his own. What scent are you wearing?

Scent? She blinked. I don’t wear perfume. Then she smiled and conceded, It must be my honeysuckle soap. I’ve always used it.

Honeysuckle soap. Jesus, it even sounded sexy.

When she slid the next triangular sandwich into his mouth, he again closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the food and her scent while he imagined sucking her fingertips, her breasts, her clit.

His dick lifted and swayed, as though seeking out the sexy breeder. She cleared her throat and pretended not to notice his erection when she asked, Water?

He wanted to kill the traitorous bitch, not imagine making love to her! The breeder had already betrayed him by his compulsion to save her from a huge man who’d pulled her into an alleyway. But it’d all been a setup, a ruse to snare him and bring him to the PDA.

It was a bitter pill to swallow.

Ignoring the tightness in his chest, he nodded before she tilted a cup against his lips and the cool, sweet nectar filled his mouth. Did the breeder know the water they’d served him in this hellhole up until now had been dirty and brackish, and possibly worse than sewerage?

She set the cup down, her jewel-green eyes a feverish, primal glitter, her cheeks now a delicate shade of pink. I hope you’ve regained a little of your strength, she said huskily.

He snorted, doing everything in his power not to react to her siren’s call. Because everything she did was staged, an act he wouldn’t fall for again. It’d take a hell of a lot more than one sandwich to renew my energy.

Her flush deepened, her eyes bright with need even before she lifted her hands to the front of her dress and slid the concealed buttons undone one-by-one. It doesn’t matter. You won’t need to use any of your vitality if I ride you.

He gaped, even as his balls tightened and his dick jerked, a white pearl of pre-cum oozing from the slit of his cockhead. He shouldn’t be surprised by her matter-of-fact sex talk. She was a breeder who worked for an agency without a conscience.

She was here to fuck him, plain and simple, and it clearly wasn’t to get answers out of him. He’d heard the scientists muttering when they thought he was unconscious. They were working on making a super-enhanced baby. And the she-bitch was playing her part in creating exactly that by having him impregnate her.

His stomach twisted, a vile taste filling his mouth. Was this just another day on the job for this flame-haired she-devil?

He found his voice. As much as I’d love to indulge in a little dirty dancing, I’d prefer not to know my progeny will end up in the hands of your people.

She kept unbuttoning, and despite himself, he couldn’t help but drink in her sexy body with the lacy mauve bra that just barely covered her nipples. She pushed the dress from her shoulders, and the gown puddled at her feet, leaving her in matching mauve panties. Fuck. The sheer material displayed the red thatch of her pubic hair to perfection.

Clever little breeder.

Your cock is about to burst, she said with a soft smile. You can pretend you don’t want me, but your body says otherwise.

It wasn’t until she slipped off her panties and bra, revealing the flawlessness of her body that he asked hoarsely, Do all the men in your life expect this from you?

She froze, then took a step toward the gurney and his naked, too-willing body. You dare to judge me?

You’re not an incubator. Your body isn’t something to be used and abused.

The breeder laughed, but the musical notes were tinged with hysteria. The man who wants to kill me as much as he wants to fuck me is questioning my morals. How ... endearing.

His eyes narrowed, not at the truth in her words, but in finally seeing the bruised discoloration beneath each of her breasts. A telltale handprint. His heart