Till Abandon (4 page)

Questions bombarded him, but Blake pushed them aside. They were for another time, when his mate wasn't looking at him like she wanted another go around. His cock filled and lengthened.

With a quirk of her eyebrow, Voltaire parted her thighs, trapping his cock. She rolled her hips, taking the tip of him into her wet clasp. Blake thrust up slightly, sinking deeper into that place made especially for him.

Voltaire bent her head and rubbed her nose against his. “You've fucked me, marked me, yet I've never heard my name on your lips.” She brushed her mouth over his. Clenching her inner muscles, she rocked slowly. Heat flared in his balls, drawing a gasp from him. “What's a girl gotta do, Blake, for you to say her name?” She sat up straight, then tilted to the right. His cock sank even deeper into her, bumping her contoured walls.

Her nostrils and eyes flared. Blake rolled his hips, dragging the head of his cock along the sensitive bump inside her core. She dug her fingers into his chest and he grabbed her hair, yanking her down to him.

"Voltaire.” He groaned out the name as he thrust up, hard. She bore down, then stilled. The shaking started at her head and travelled down her body. Her mouth opened in a silent scream as her pussy fluttered around him, massaging him to orgasm. Blake emptied himself inside her with a growl. Heated moisture drowned him in return.

He took her mouth, teeth clinking as he fought to get closer to her, his mate. She rubbed her chest to his, nipples pricking his skin in exquisite torture. They curled their tongues around each other, licking, tasting. He didn't want to stop tasting her strawberry-flavoured kisses, wanted to overdose on them. She flitted her tongue over the roof of his mouth and slid it across his teeth. When she would've pulled away, he squeezed her nape, held her still, and continued exploring her mouth.

Voltaire chuckled into his mouth, nipping at him as she rubbed her body over his. Blake mimicked her movements, transferring his scent to his mate. After this moment there'd be no questions that Voltaire belonged to him. Blake ignored the small voice of doubt trying to cloud his mind.

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Her mate had questions. Voltaire licked a wet trail down the left side of his neck with her eyes squeezed shut. Orgasmic tremors still shook her body, though they weren't as violent as before. Blake's cock pulsed and twitched where she held him inside her quivering core.

Blake was the reason she had held on to her virginity. The sensation of him pounding into her felt so new, yet infinitely familiar, like they'd done it a million times before and would do it a million times more.

I'm all for that
.

And he could access her mind during orgasm. How fucking cool was that? But Blake couldn't hide his doubts, not from her. She felt it, for a second, in his staggered heart beat. Those doubts stared up at her through eyes shadowed with passion, framed with dark lashes. How to reassure him when she couldn't be sure herself?

He stroked her back with his callused hands, drawing shudders from her. His touch, like his scent and taste, was addictive. She raised her head and brushed her lips over his. He kissed her back slowly, and she sipped from him like he was the most expensive cognac. Rumbles echoed in his chest. The wolf's contentment.

"Voltaire.” His warm breath caressed her face. She stared down at him. Goose bumps dotted her skin at the sound of her name on his lips.

Voltaire brought their foreheads together. “The way you say my name. Blake, you destroy me.” Tears burnt her eyelids and she blinked rapidly. She'd known this would happen, that he'd rip away her armour, yet she felt no regret. She belonged here.

Blake brushed her hair from her face and stroked her cheek. “Do you want to go inside where it's warm?"

She chuckled. “I'd prefer to stay where I am. Besides, I don't feel anything but the heat between us."

He grinned, a feral baring of his sharp, white teeth. “Yeah, I know that feeling."

Soon she'd have to tell him why she knew so much about him, why the wolf recognised her. She combed her fingers through his thick, wavy hair. The time approached when she would have to reveal her secrets and hope her mate didn't run in the opposite direction.

Who
the hell am I kidding?

She'd run the fucker down until she caught him. Voltaire bit her lip to keep from laughing out loud. Like she'd ever let her wolf get away.

Blake clasped her tightly to his chest and sat up. She curled her legs, forgotten heels and all, around his waist and locked them together. Her nipples poked his chest, sending spikes of heat through her body and drawing a sigh from her lips. This could well be her favourite position.

"You wore me out.” He rubbed his face into her shoulder and dropped tiny kisses along the column of her neck. “What do you say we get dressed and go get us something to eat?"

Voltaire drew closer to him, if that was even possible. His flaccid cock remained in her body. “I'm all for the food, but do we have to get dressed?"

Blake chuckled. “We do if we're going into town. Can't walk around with our jiggly parts hanging out."

"Fine.” Voltaire lifted her ass off his thighs by slow degrees. His cock slid from her pussy, dragging liquid heat along her nerve endings. They both groaned. Blake grabbed her hips as if to hold her in place. She met his eyes and licked her lips.

"Before the night is up, I'll be sliding back up into that pussy,” he vowed with a growl.

Her body clenched. Looky, looky, her mate had a silver tongue. Flicking her tongue over the seam of his lips, she whispered, “You say the sexiest shit."

She rose off him in a smooth move and stepped to the side. Blake grabbed her hand and came to his knees. Holding her in place, he buried his face in her tummy. Voltaire cupped his nape, held him to her as he took a deep breath.

He tipped his head back, stared up at her. Something savage flared hot and bright in his eyes, then disappeared in a blink. “We could destroy each other.” A warning or a prophecy?

Voltaire kept her face impassive despite the sudden fear making cold trails down her spine, and raised an eyebrow. “You think?"

Getting to his feet, Blake looked around with a hint of a smile on his face. “I seem to have shredded your clothes.” Was that embarrassment in his voice? Voltaire chuckled. Could he get any cuter?

"It's cool, I still have the coat.” She picked the cashmere coat up off the ground. After shaking off the bits of dirt and leaves, she slipped it on. Blake froze in the process of stepping into his grey sweat pants. The bright moonlight illuminated his stunned expression.

Voltaire frowned. “What?” She looked down at herself. Her left tit was exposed, the right one barely covered. The gaping coat showed off her naked front as she stood in her red
Gianmarco
Lorenzi's
, hands on her hips.

Blake pulled up his pants and stepped forward. “You look...you look stunning, standing there like that."

He pulled her hair from under her collar. Rough fingers grazed her nape.

She shivered. Emotion clogged her throat. Damn.

"I'm never going to forget this moment,” he whispered in her ear. “You look so fucking beautiful, Voltaire."

Her knees buckled and she grabbed his neck for support. His chest pressed into her as he held her to him. She covered his mouth with hers. Blake slid his tongue inside and they both groaned as he claimed her mouth with hungry bites.

For five years she had run away from this in her dreams, and now she knew why. With one touch he seared her to the bone. And after half a century of not knowing
what
she was, she now knew
who
she was.

Blake's mate.

She licked the roof of his mouth, tasting the flavour of man mixed with wolf. He moved the hand on her nape to her hair and tugged, sending shards of pain to her scalp. In turn, she sank invisible fingers into his ass cheeks. Blake growled and tore his mouth away. Eyes narrowed to flints, lips glistening, he stepped back.

"We need to leave or we'll be here all night.” He pulled his T-shirt over his head, then turned back to her. “Not that being here all night would be a bad thing, but the next time I take you I want to do it on a bed."

Voltaire laughed as she buttoned her coat with shaky hands.

What makes you so sure you'll be doing the taking next time?
She sent him an image of her standing over his bent form while she pounded a thick dildo into his ass.

He stilled, nostrils flared, growls rumbling in his chest.

"Yes,” she purred. “The wolf likes that, doesn't he?” The thought of fucking Blake had her creaming.
God.
She turned away, headed in the direction of the bar. If they stayed there one more second, she'd be climbing him like he was a motherfucking tree.

"You've done it before, haven't you?” he called out. “Fucked somebody like that?"

Voltaire flipped her hair over her shoulder and threw him a wink.

They entered Blake's apartment through a rear door and came back out minutes later with him in a fresh T-shirt, jacket, jeans and boots. She remained clad in only her coat—three buttons secured, covering her stomach. Her cleavage, which Blake couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from, and her thighs were exposed.

One of many unexplained things about her existence, Voltaire barely felt the November bite. She climbed atop her Ducati Monster and waited for her mate to take the lead. He did, throwing her the lone black helmet and sitting astride the motorcycle in front of her.

Tonight, for the first time, I will allow someone else to take charge.

She pressed her front to his muscled back and wrapped both hands around his slender waist. “Let's ride."

He roared off and the vibrations of the bike went straight to her clit. She dug her nails into Blake's hard stomach with a whimper. The cool wind whipped her hair into her mouth as she panted.
Blake, slow the fuck down!

The bike sped up, roaring over the bumps in the road. With each bounce, her nipples hardened, her skin tingled and her pussy clenched. There was pain, but pleasure came in a close second. The two sensations blended into one delicious fire, burning her from the inside out. Blood dissolved on her tongue as she bit her lip.

You'll be so sorry, my mate.
She promised retribution as he chose to ride over a jagged bump in the road rather than go around it like the yellow sign said. He chuckled—she felt it under the palms pressed to his chest.

Payback is a bitch, Blake. I should know, I be that bitch.

He leaned to the right, guiding them to the parking lot of a small diner. The blinking red and blue neon sign spelled out ‘Flo's’ in bold letters. She spied several packed booths inside the eatery. Blake pulled in between a beaten-up Ford F150 and a dark-coloured minivan. She didn't wait for him to come to full stop, hopping off immediately. Her clit pulsed with every step she took.

Removing the helmet, she glared at Blake. The son of a bitch met her anger with innocent eyes. As if she'd buy it for a minute.

"You did that on purpose, you fucker.” She advanced on him to strangle the mocking laughter out of him , but he thrust her up against the Ford.

"Spread your legs.” Arousal swirled in the air around them.

Voltaire met his gaze, open-mouthed. “What?” Had he just commanded her to do something? Even as moisture flowed from her hungry core, she bristled.

"You heard me.” He fisted her hair in his left hand as his mouth hovered over hers. “Spread those fucking legs."

Well, since he'd asked so nicely, what was a girl to do but spread her limbs? She propped her right leg on top of the motorcycle's handle bars. The left, she wrapped around his waist. He skimmed his rough fingers up her thighs and dipped them between her legs.

Her breath caught. Voltaire tilted her head back and stared up at the starless sky. “Don't think this means you can handle me.” The two last words died in her throat as three fingers plunged into her pussy.

"Ahh, fuck!” Her knees shook. She fought to stay upright. Her fingernails scraped the vehicle behind her. She grabbed Blake. His mouth covered her cries as he finger-fucked her. He slid those goddamn fingers inside her to the last knuckle—she felt that shit.

She rolled her hips, chest heaving, the cool breeze teasing her hardened nipples. Blake mimicked the movements of his fingers with his tongue, fucking her mouth. Voltaire met him move for move, thrust for thrust. A reminder to him that she didn't only take—she gave as well.

Warm flutters began in her belly, then spread to her entire body. He pressed his thumb to her clit and curled his fingers inside her, nudging her G-spot. Violent shudders started in her legs and quickly spread.

"Oh, God. Blake!” A freaking shriek left her throat as she crumbled in his arms. He licked his way across her jaw and down her neck. Sharp canines scraped her skin then sank into her flesh. Her back arched and moans tore from her as her pussy contracted around his fingers. She mastered the storm, riding his fingers, clutching his shoulders until her voice grew hoarse and the spasms dissipated.

Under her tight grasp, Blake's arms quivered. Voltaire heard the animal inside him as it clamoured for release. His need and arousal beat at her. More than ready to climb on top of him and ride him like a bucking bronco, she raised an eyebrow when he stepped away.

"What, no more?” she gasped. Her legs cramped, but she managed to stand without too much wobble. Until Blake stuck his fingers in his mouth. A shudder ran the length of her spine and she looked away from him.

You're killing me, Blake. Either fuck me or feed me. Now.

He walked away with a chuckle and headed towards the entrance of the diner. “Food now, fucking later."

T
ease.

Blake paused with his hand on the door of Flo's
,
fighting for control. The wolf wanted to turn around and finish what he'd started with Voltaire, but Blake didn't think it was a good idea to be so vulnerable out in the open like this. He still had to be careful, take precautions. The orgasm was for his mate. He'd got her riled up with the motorcycle ride—nothing left to do but make her come.