Till Abandon

by Avril Ashton

  Love. He recognised it. His woman loved the sound of the wolf and she loved her mate. She loved him. The wolf howled again and the ball exploded like fireworks. Streaks of colour rained like confetti.

  Pull back, pull back, Czion cautioned. Now that she's awake, she can make up what she lost—we don't want her to take too much from you.

  Blake retraced the path Czion had laid for him, pulling out of Voltaire's head. He opened his eyes and turned towards his mate.

  Gold and violet eyes stared back at him.

  * * * *

  Voltaire opened her eyes to meet her mate's wet and strained features. Joy sparked in his green gaze, setting her pulse to racing. A wide smile softened his face.

  "You're awake!"

  He gathered her into his arms and she went willingly, squeezing him as tight as he held her.

  "Never leave me again,” Blake whispered in her hair. “Never do that to me again."

  "I'm sorry.” She bit her lip as her tears soaked the shoulder of his T-shirt.

  Trapped in the darkness, she'd heard his words, heard him confess he'd follow her if she didn't wake up. Panic for him, for his pack, had made her fight like never before, clawing her way from the dark depths surrounding her until she found the light of Blake's love. She'd pushed past it all to come to him, to comfort him, to erase the pain she'd heard so clearly in his voice.

  Her mate needed her and nothing would stop her from going to him.

  I love you so much, she whispered in his head.

  And I love you, Blake responded in the same way.

  Then, “Holy shit! I'm still in your head.” Blake leaned away from her to peer down into her face. “Did you hear me? I was in your head."

  "I heard you, shifter.” Voltaire wrapped her palms around either side of his face, then pulled his head down and fused their lips together. She sighed, Blake moaned, and the wolf howled.

  A throat cleared on the other side of the bed. “Uh, that's because you each have a part of the other's life-force inside you."

  Voltaire cocked open an eye and murmured against Blake's mouth, “Why is there a jaguar in our bed, shifter?"

  Blake chuckled and broke the kiss. Placing a pillow behind her head, he dropped a kiss on her forehead. “The jaguar was the one who helped me bring you back, so now I owe him big time. Thanks a lot.” He pouted.

  "I always collect, wolf.” Czion had got off the bed and stood on the far side of the bedroom, watching them with a strange expression on his face.

  "I expect nothing less.” Blake brushed a lock of hair from Voltaire's forehead as she squinted up at him.

  "I'm not getting this.” She looked form Blake to Czion and back. “You went to Czion—your pack's enemy—for help?"

  Soft eyes roamed her face. Blake brushed her mouth with his thumb. “Don't you know by now I'd do anything for you? I called Remi with your phone—just hit redial—and she said Czion could help.” His jaw clenched. “I wasn't going to say no to that. Not if he could help bring you back to me."

  "We can go back to waging war tomorrow, V.” Czion winked at her. “Today it's all about you."

  Tears blinded Voltaire. Heart full, she blinked the sting away. “Thank you, Czion."

  She captured Blake's hand and brought it to her lips as she stared into his eyes, telling him what she felt.

  I know how you feel, Blake said in her mind. I see it in your mind, I feel it in the beat of your heart. And I feel the same.

  "All right.” Czion walked to the door. “While you two make sickening eyes at each other, I'll let myself out."

  "Hold up, jaguar.” Blake kissed Voltaire quickly and hopped off the bed. “I'll show you out."

  * * * *

  Blake trudged down the stairs, Czion at his heels. At the newly repaired door, he turned, offering the jaguar his hand.

  "Thank you for coming, for helping not only Voltaire, but me as well."

  Mature enough to give credit where credit was due, Blake was now in Czion's debt.

  The other grasped his hand in a firm shake. “I was only the facilitator.” A bitter-sweet smile didn't touch his eyes. “The way you two love each other, it's almost humbling."

  Blake raised an eyebrow at the wistful note in Czion's voice. “Sounds like you may be feeling the same thing. Where is she?"

  Czion dropped Blake's hand and glanced away. “She, who?"

  "The woman you love—your mate.” A shadow crossed Czion's face and Blake frowned. “You do know who she is, right?"

  A pained chuckle escaped Czion. “Oh, yeah. I know who she is."

  "So what's the problem? Why are you suddenly looking like you lost your best friend?"

  The jaguar jammed his hands into the pockets of his slacks and sighed. “Look—I don't—it's none of your business, wolf."

  "Okay.” Blake raised his hands in surrender. “It's Remi, isn't it?"

  The jaguar's gaze swung back to him, sharp and menacing. That had been a lucky guess, but oh, yeah, right on the money.

  "Don't say her name, wolf."

  A series of growls from Czion made the wolf sit up and take note, but Blake soothed it.

  "It's okay for you to call my woman by a nickname, but I can't even say your woman's name?"

  "She's not my woman.” Czion snarled. “She won't ever be my woman."

  "Dude, you're denying your mate? Why the death wish?"

  Czion shook his head, despair in his eyes before he masked it. “You don't get it, wolf. She's the freaking president of the PSC. That's like a commoner and royalty. Just don't mix.” He blew out a frustrated breath. “Why am I even talking to you, of all people, about this? Go see to your woman."

  Turning, he walked out of the door and disappeared into the night.

  "Unlucky bastard.” Blake whispered the words with a heavy shake of his head. He couldn't begin to imagine knowing who your mate was, working side by side in constant contact and not being able to touch them. Claim them.

  That would be torture.

  He raced upstairs, taking them two at a time, in a hurry to get back to his mate. He found her standing in the middle of the room, butt naked. Blake skidded to a halt.

  "What are you doing?"

  She swung around to face him with a grimace. “I need a bath, I feel dirty and grimy."

  "Then I'll draw you a bath.” Walking up to her, he positioned her until she sat on the bed's edge. “Don't move."

  A small smile ghosted her lips. Ordering me around already, shifter?

  Blake chuckled. “Whatever I have to do to keep you safe."

  He hurried to the bathroom to get her bath ready. Making sure the water was warm enough and all the essentials were within reach, he went back into the bedroom and scooped her into his arms. Voltaire melted in his embrace, sighing with her eyes closed.

  In the bathroom, he lowered her into the filled tub, cock hardening when she moaned and threw her head back.

  "Fuck. I think on the strength of this alone I'm keeping you, shifter."

  Eyelids fluttering, Voltaire sank into the water.

  Blake dropped to his knees beside the tub and dipped his hand into the water.

  Good, because I'm not leaving your side

  He grabbed the large, sea-foam sponge and dipped it into the sudsy water, drizzling droplets down her neck and chest, watching as she arched her back and her dusky, rose-coloured nipples pebbled. He licked his lips, mouth watering.

  Focus, Montez.

  Grabbing the washrag and a bar of soap, he commanded Voltaire, “Sit up and lean forward."

  She did, and he proceeded to soap her back, biting the inside of his cheek at her moans. Finished, he made her lean her head on the edge of the tub, and soaped his way down her front, fighting hard to ignore those twin globes begging for his mouth. This wasn't about his lust, it was about taking care of his woman.

  Can't it be both? Voltaire asked.

  Cock leaking, Blake shook his head. “No. Tonight I want to watch you sleep, while I hold you in
my arms. We have all the time in the world for everything else.” Dipping the sponge between her legs almost made him regret his words.

  Almost.

  "And that's why I love you.” Voltaire yawned.

  He dropped a chaste kiss on her mouth. “Scoot down so I can wash your hair."

  She complied and he cupped water into his hands and wetted her hair, then shampooed the white tresses.

  Fingers massaging her scalp, Blake found the strength to say, “Tell me about you and Ken."

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Fourteen

  * * * *

  Voltaire flirted with sleep, the sweet sensation of Blake's nails on her scalp dragging her under, but her lashes flew open at her mate's hushed words. She caught the guarded look in his eyes, the almost indiscernible tick in his jaw.

  She cleared her throat. He had a right to know why Ken had come after him.

  "We had a sexual relationship that I ended before coming here."

  Gaze glued to his hands as they worked in her hair, Blake said, “Define ‘sexual relationship'."

  "You mean since I was a virgin when I came to you?"

  Voltaire sighed and touched his mind. He was expectant but not angry, waiting to hear what she had to say.

  "He was my plaything for almost a year. No touching, no kissing—my rules—only me fucking him. Any time. Anywhere."

  She watched flames heat Blake's gaze, felt his fingers tighten in her hair. He wasn't hating what she said.

  "For almost a year, I messed around with Ken, dominating him sexually without any give. I only took from him, without a thought for what he might want. Need.” She blinked rapidly. “I was scared. Scared because I knew you were out there waiting for me. And I knew you'd demand all of me."

  Lifting her hand out of the water, Voltaire cupped Blake's jaw, forced him to meet her eyes. “What scared me most,” she whispered, “was that I wanted to give you all of me. I wanted it so badly. I couldn't reconcile myself to the fact that I—the Death Bringer—could need someone so much I'd never even met."

  "And you had to prove your dominance, assert your strength.” Blake's voice was low as he rinsed the conditioner from her hair.

  A lone tear slid down her cheek and she wiped it away. “Yes, but it was selfish and wrong to use him that way. My actions came back to bite me—us. Hard."

  "Was it the same thing with Remi and Czion?” Done with her hair, Blake wrapped her head in a fluffy, red towel.

  Voltaire considered asking him what he knew about her tryst with Remi and Czion, but she only shook her head. It didn't matter. This was her chance to come clean about everything.

  "I didn't do anything physical with them, I only watched as Remi and Czion got down and dirty."

  Loud growls erupted from Blake's chest. His claws slashed out, tearing the plastic shower curtain. “You saw that fucking jaguar naked? I'll kill him."

  Calm down, shifter. She projected calm thoughts into his head, trying to soothe the animal chomping at the bit. “Czion only had eyes for Remi—I doubt he remembers I was in the room."

  "He'd better not. I'd have to castrate him."

  Laughter bubbled up and spilled out of Voltaire's parted lips. Blake narrowed his eyes at her, then promptly started chuckling.

  "You're such a bad influence,” he managed between chuckles.

  "Me?” she squeaked.

  Voltaire raised her arms high as he lifted her out of the tub. She kissed his neck, nibbled at the corded muscles there as he walked to the bed and laid her down gently. Eyes closed, she sighed in contentment. She was where she was meant to be. In her mate's arms. Sleepy eyelids drooped. Blake rustled out of his clothes, then the mattress dipped and welcome heat draped all over her. Blake pulled her against his chest, hard and hot, his arms curled around her waist.

  And they slept.

  * * * *

  Voltaire would've accompanied her man to the meeting with the Elders, but she had to conference with the members of the Council to report on Ken. She held nothing back, letting it all out as far as her sexual relationship with the man was concerned.

  The Council members all agreed they needed to do a better job of vetting their agents, but no one laid any blame at Voltaire's feet. A relief, since she'd already heaped much of it at her feet herself. She also had to reassure the Council that while she now had a mate, she hadn't completely given up her duties to them.

  Her assignments would be curtailed, though—she wasn't leaving her man alone. The only time she'd leave the country was with Blake at her side. They immediately tried to get her to commit to another assignment in Texas, dispatching the leader of a rebel group of humans who planned on opposing the Para regime. She shut them down, recommending they send Saint instead. The deadly Japanese man would be ideal.

  Now half the day was gone, and she missed her wolf something fierce. Their talk last night had formed an idea in the back of her head. She grinned, checking the clock on the kitchen wall. Plenty of time before Blake was due back—she could make a dash to town, buy some supplies. Voltaire grabbed the Ducati's helmet off a hook and headed out. She couldn't wait to see the look on his face.

  * * * *

  When she got back to the apartment, the sun had set, but Blake wasn't home. She hurried to the shower, grinning all the while. Something told her the wolf would love the surprise—she knew him well enough to know she hadn't overstepped any bounds in her plans for them.

  Voltaire felt her wolf the instant she stepped out of the shower. He stood in the bathroom doorway, chest bare, unbuttoned jeans riding low on his hips. She met his green gaze with a wink.

  "Shower's all yours, shifter."

  On her way past him, she squeezed one of his butt cheeks. He growled. She snickered.

  "Go wash up. I've got plans for that ass."

  While Blake showered, Voltaire laid out all the supplies on the nightstand, within easy reach. Done with that, she sat on the bed and rubbed lotion over her skin.

  Hey, shifter, did you know this town only has one sex shop?

  Blake inhaled sharply. She giggled like a giddy school girl.

  What are you planning, Voltaire?

  Even in her head, her mate sounded breathless.

  Me? Planning? You'll just have to wait and see.

  The shower shut off. She stepped into her get-up for the evening's festivities and stretched out on the bed, hands above her head, as Blake came into the room. The towel draped around his waist tented. His eyes went from her face to the thick cock between her legs. She palmed the rubber dick and watched her man shudder. Heat darkened his eyes and his lips parted.

  "You want this?” she asked in a whisper.

  His body already screamed yes, but she wanted him to say it out loud. He nodded, eyes glued to the cock.

  "Say it,” she said harshly. Arousal rode her hard too, her pussy grew slick and achy. “Tell me."

  "Yes.” Blake met her gaze, his expression hot. Hungry. “I want it."

  Voltaire bared her teeth. “Come then—come and get it."

  He tore off the towel and strode to the other side of the bed, his cock head glistening with pre-cum. Voltaire licked her lips. Blake slid into the bed next to her, lying on his back. Immediately, she pounced, turning to claim his lips. She slid her tongue over his, sucking him hard. He buried his hands in her hair, tugging, pulling.

  She groaned into his mouth, I'm going to fuck you, shifter. Sink this cock all the way up your tight ass, and when I'm done—when I've made you come all over my cock, I want to come all over yours."

  The hands in her hair trembled. Blake's throat rumbled and his hips bucked against hers, trapping both cocks between their bodies. She rolled her hips. Blake's breath hitched.

  Voltaire opened her eyes, met his. She tore her mouth away.

  "I love you."

  He grinned, taking his hands from her hair to cup her ass. “I love you too—now fuck me."

  Winking at him, she slid down his body, drop
ping kisses on his shoulder, chest and licking his nipples. Once again, he curled his fingers in her hair, his hips bucked and his thick arousal swamped her. The dildo buried in her cunt had her juices flowing, her muscles clenching and contracting around it.

  Voltaire kissed her way down Blake's body and paused when eye level with his cock. The thick organ pulsed, pearly drops of pre-cum dripping from the red, flared head as it lay across Blake's stomach.

  Mouth watering, she flattened her tongue and licked from root to tip. Blake lifted his hips. She opened her mouth and swallowed him whole.

  "God, fuck!” Above her head, Blake repeated the words over and over.

  His cock in her mouth, she hummed while she fondled his balls. Hollowing her cheeks, she sucked hard, tongue flicking out to tease the slit at the top. Bitter-sweet pre-cum flowed into her, sliding down her throat. She swallowed.

  Blake yelled.

  Hand me the lube, baby.

  She circled his anus with a finger, rubbing the puckered hole, feeling it contract. Blake widened his legs, ass flexing as he snatched the lube and handed it to her. Still sucking his cock, she popped open the cap on the lube and smeared the stuff on her fingers. She put the bottle off to the side and pressed one finger to his opening.

  Blake groaned. His hole opened and she eased inside, sinking in to the first knuckle. The ring of muscle clamped down, trapping her in the heat of Blake's body. She circled his cock with her left hand, sliding her finger deeper.

  Tongue flicking over his cock head, saliva dripping down his length, Voltaire jerked him off as she added another finger to his ass.

  Fuck, so good, Blake whispered in her head.

  Blindly, she reached for the lube, pouring the liquid over his asshole and working three digits in at once. His body tensed but her man thrust back on those fingers and she was in him, his heat singing her.

  You feel so good, shifter. I'm inside you—can you feel me? She wiggled the fingers carefully.

  "Yes,” Blake hissed. “Feels so fucking good."

  "So ride my fingers,” she coaxed. “Let me see you fuck yourself on my fingers, shifter.” Damn, she sounded drunk, words slurred.