Fighting the urge to thrust fast and hard into her small mouth, I also fight the insistent climax — blocking the Lycan cells boiling in my scrotum. As blissful as her velvet tongue feels, my semen belongs in her pussy, and in her pussy it will spill.
I’ll allow just a few more seconds of this. I grip her hair in a ponytail, watch my cock disappear into her hungry mouth.
Shavone’s soft yet firm tongue smoothes all over my shaft as her head bobs, sucking me hard. A spurt of come slips by my control.
“Enough,” I growl, attempting to pull out.
She tightens her grip at the base, pumping while her other hand massages my balls.
The kindling produces another burst of fire, shooting from my sack into her mouth.
“Hmmmm.” Her hum of satisfaction vibrates around my cock as she takes me deep to her throat again and again.
“Enough!” I yank my cock away from her.
The sight of my juices around her lips, her tongue lapping at them, burns away the last of my reserve. Hoisting her by the ass, I enter her and brace her against the tile in one motion. I fuck her deep, reveling in her vocalized approval.
“You drive me wild, little witch.”
“My wolf,” she pants through clenched teeth, meeting me pound for pound.
The thin line between beast and man vanishes upon my complete surrender to her spellbinding womanhood. Only she makes me whole, only her pulsing pussy conquers my manhood so thoroughly.
Ancient.
Primitive.
An immaculate joining of male and female.
Body.
Heart.
Soul.
Her plushness swells. She’s on the crest of ecstasy.
Thank fuck.
I lift her slightly so that her magic spot gets maximum stimulation. It takes just three rapid plunges to catapult her, screaming, over the brink.
Her ruthless cunt milks my cock pulling me willingly into cataclysmic rapture with her, pulling an inconceivable load of seed out of me.
“Mine.” I half howl through the blazing pleasure. “You’re mine.”
In the garage, I hold the passenger door for Shavone.
“What kind of car is this?”
“An Aston MartinVanquish Volante. You like it?”
“It’s sexy.” She slides onto the leather seat. “Especially the orange.”
It’s the color of her missing necklace. The coral spiral floated on the water, calling out to me like a beacon. It’s how I found her. When I saw this car, I saw her cherubic face — six year old Shavone gasping for air, eyes huge with fear.
The significance of the orange doesn’t escape her. She touches her chest, her eyes blink up to follow my progress around the front of the car.
What if she doesn’t like being reminded of the horror every time she sees this car?
“We can have it painted another color if you like.”
“Me? It’s not my car and besides,” she grins. “Orange is one of my favorite colors.”
“Mine, too.” I look into her eyes. “But gray is my most favorite.”
She coyly lowers her head and looks up at me.
“Buckle up.” I smile at her, clicking my own seatbelt in place and tapping the garage door opener.
Pushing the start button, the engine roars to life.
“Did you” — she pauses, shakes her head.
“What? Speak your mind, Shavone.”
“You remembered what happened all this time?”
“Every day. I remembered it every day.”
From that moment to this one, I thought of you every single day.
Through the property gate, I turn left onto Cherry Hill Park.
“I didn’t know it was real.” She inhales deeply. “I thought it was just a nightmare.”
“You were very young.”
We take the roundabout to the main gate of the community. I turn right onto University.
Uncle Agustin told me that the mothers and crones of her coven did what they could to erase her memory of that night. Clearly, even at such a young age, she was stronger than their magick. Or perhaps, as father had said, it was my interference that night.
Once my back was healed, I wanted to see her. Father forbade it, arguing that seeing me would harm her further. Of course the cub in me didn’t want to believe that. I wanted to contact her so many times. But I couldn’t take the chance. Her well-being was more important. Always.
And now she is mine.
Her scent fills the car. It’s impossible to be in a foul mood for long around her. I reach for her hand and bring it to my mouth for a quick taste. The light green, I accelerate down the ramp to the interstate, check the mirrors and quickly get up to speed to merge.
Shavone giggles. A precious noise.
“What?”
“The engine. I love the sound and the power.”
She enjoys power. My mind detours to the erotic. Now man wants to please her as much as the wolf does. Merging to the fast lane, I put the pedal to the floor, pressing her back in her seat.
“Ahhh.” Shavone laughs, her body molded to the leather. Her joy is infectious. I chuckle.
“You’re going to get a ticket.” She smiles.
So what. Seeing her happy is worth it. But traffic ahead is tight, making high speeds dangerous. I ease up on the gas.
“Would you let me drive this some time?” She studies my profile.
“Of course.” I answer immediately.
Her jaw drops, eyes widen. “You would?”
“Sure. Why not?” I glance at her. She doesn’t believe me. I check my rearview and move over to take the next exit. Just around the corner, I pull into a Starbucks parking lot.
“How about right now?” I unbuckle my seat belt.
“What?” Her eyes widen in fear this time. “What if I — I don’t know, back into that post?” She points behind us.
I chuckle. “Then we’ll get it fixed. Just don’t wreck it to the point of injuring yourself, hmmm?” I unbuckle her belt. “Come.” I open the door and urge her to do the same.
In seconds, with an almost whispered squeal of happiness, she’s settling into the driver’s seat. Taking in her rosy glow, I strap her in. This should be her life — well-fucked, happy and carefree. She’s been through so much heartache with more on the way. I vow to do what I can to prepare her for it and give her as many days of happiness that I can in the meantime.
She reaches for the start button.
“Not yet.” I take her hand and kiss her fingers. “A little lesson first. This car is a 565.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“It means it is very powerful, mi dulce.” I lightly bite and suck her index finger. Mmmm. My wolf salivates, growls at her increased essence.
“That much horsepower combined with the extremely sensitive gas pedal” — I kiss the top of her hand and brush it along my jaw. “You must treat it as the finely tuned, powerful machine that it is.” I kiss the pulse point on the inside of her wrist. Her bouquet gets stronger yet.
“I tell you this so you will take it easy until you get a feel for the handling, okay?” I move her hand away from my mouth.
Tongue literally in her cheek, she grins mischievously. “A powerful, finely tuned machine. Got it.” She keeps my hand and places it on her lap.
My cock and wolf respond to her teasing.
“Oh, little witch.” I shake my head and grin back.
Her smile falters to a more serious expression. “How do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Put me so at ease.”
“I could ask you the same.” I guide her hand back to the start button. I lift my chin at the windshield. “Let’s go get your necklace.”
With her index finger, she starts the engine. She puts the car in reverse, and a studied grimace on her face, cautiously touches the pedal. Perfect. The car eases out of the parking space. Putting it in first, she again lightly touches the gas. So adorable, h
er face scrunched with focus, her lips puckered in concentration.
“What?” Stopped at the light to the interstate, her expression relaxes as she glances at me.
I lean over to kiss her temple. “You are so cute.”
“Cute?” An eyebrow arches up.
The light turns green. Shavone smirks, eyes the road and guns it, throwing me back in the seat.
“Woo hoo.” She laughs, but it’s just a sprint down the ramp. Near the bottom she pulls back to a responsible speed and holds it the rest of the way to the Dollhouse.
Antonio’s car is here as is LaFontaine’s unmarked car, another obvious unmarked vehicle, a van, and a pair of marked police cruisers. There are no customers. Denver PD parked outside any establishment is bad for business. But I just don’t care.
With a grin that spreads ear to ear, my witch carefully parks next to her Saturn and cuts the engine. “This is an awesome car.”
“Glad you like it.” I get out and hurry round to help her to her feet.
“Thank you for letting me drive it.” Her soft hands hold my jaw as she presses her lips quickly to my chin.
My arms wind around her waist to pull her closer, nuzzle her throat. “You’re very welcome. Drive it whenever you like.” I feel her smile.
“Shavone.” LaFontaine’s harsh shout cuts through the moment.
She looks at the sky and sighs. I kiss the tip of her nose. She’s mine now. Nothing he says or does can change that.
“We found your necklace.” The asshole shouts again.
“So I’ve heard,” she mumbles.
With my hand on the small of her back, we walk to the employee entrance.
His angry eyes flit from me to Shavone. When they spot my mark on her, his anger shifts to something closer to torment. It’s an emotion I’m familiar with. I feel empathy for the French alpha, just slight, but empathy nonetheless.
I follow the little witch’s swaying hips through the threshold.
In the hall, Antonio nods at me with a quick glance at Shavone. “Holy shit!” His eyes return to her neck and widen. He claps me on the shoulder with his free hand, grins at her. “Congratulations. Hope you know what you’ve gotten yourself into mating my brother.”
“She doesn’t,” the detective says.
“I beg your pardon.” Shavone eyes him cooly.
“This is so unlike you, Shav, it screams foul play.”
Her eyes narrow. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
LaFontaine points at me. “I know what this son of a bitch is capable of.”
“Perhaps my attorney should be here for this discussion.” I raise my chin at Antonio to go find her.
“Kennedy isn’t here,” Antonio says in a hushed voice.
“Why?” I pay her a hefty retainer to deal with fuckers such as him.
My brother shrugs. “Uncle Emmanuel said she sounded sick on the phone. All stuffed up.”
“Don’t worry, Cruz. You don’t need a lawyer — yet.” The detective moves toward my office.
“Where’s my necklace?” Shavone calls after him.
“You’ll get it after questioning.” He stops at the door, indicates with a hand that she should enter.
Shavone shakes, she’s so angry.
I place an arm around her waist. “My mate and I have other things to do, detective. Just give her her property and we’ll be on our way.”
His eyes flick between my brother and me. “I will find out what happened to Shavone here. Maybe that’s what you two are afraid of.”
Antonio snickers. “We’re not afraid of the French.”
“Could have fooled me. You keep hampering the investigation.”
Shavone sighs heavily. “Let’s just get it over with.” She walks to the threshold with me right beside her.
“Whoa.” LaFontaine holds up a hand. “Not you, Cruz. Just Shavone.”
I laugh. “I am not letting her deal with you alone.”
“Afraid of what she might say?” He smirks. “That you had her drugged and kidnapped? Maybe hexed so you could force her to mate?”
“No one forced me to do anything.” Shavone laughs.
“Bullshit,” he says.
“How did I not see it all these years?” She shakes her head on the last chuckle.
“See what?” He asks.
“What an arrogant, know-it-all, self-righteous prick you are.” She spits out.
He blinks at the wounding insult.
“I don’t trust you, Nash. Either Enrique is with me during questioning or you can go straight to hell.”
Swallowing hard, LaFontaine’s eyes blink from her to me. Eventually, he sighs.
“Fine.” He points at Antonio. “Don’t fucking go anywhere. You’re right after them.”
“No problem.” Antonio taps the clipboard in his hand. “I’m taking inventory in the stockroom.”
“Don’t touch a goddamn thing in there,” the detective barks.
Antonio flips him off as he moves briskly toward the lounge.
Just inside the office, Shavone stops abruptly. “What the hell?”
In the the corner of the room, piled in a heap are the things that were on my desk. She picks up the laptop, glares at the detective.
“Don’t worry about it, Niña. I’ll send Denver PD a bill,” I say.
“Will you now?” He sits in my office chair.
I motion to the guest chair. Shavone gingerly puts the computer on my credenza and sits. I stand behind her, light hands on her tense shoulders.
“Baby” — he begins, clearing this throat at my low growl. “Here.” He opens a manila envelop, pulling out a gold chain.
“Oh.” Shavone breathes. He lays the necklace in her hand.
“The pendant?” She asks.
He shakes his head. “We’re still looking for it.”
I help her put the necklace on, latching it at the back.
“Help me help you, Shav. Let’s find your pendant and the bastards who hurt you,” he says softly.
Slender fingers rim the necklace, touch the burn on her chest.
“Okay.”
With a small smile, he takes up a pen. “Tell me what happened the night of the kidnapping.” Tearing his gaze from her throat, he flips to a clean page on a notepad in front of him.
“It was clear quite a struggle had taken place,” I say. “The vodka shelf completely tipped over backwards.”
“Shut the fuck up, Cruz. Let her tell it.” He leans forward on his elbows. “Shav, you went to the storeroom” — he lets the rest hang for her to pick up.
“I went to the storeroom for Fourteener vodka. We ran out at the bar.”
“Did anyone follow you into the room?”
Shavone shakes her head. “Not that I’m aware of. I found the shelf stocked with vodka. I was on a stool reaching for the box on the top shelf” —
“By yourself?” Nash barks.
“Yes.”
He glares at me. “You have petite women lifting heavy cases of booze at your club?”
“My brother and I already had a discussion about that.” Antonio almost lost his throat over that lapse in judgement.
“The box had handles.” Shavone shakes her head. “It wasn’t that heavy. Anyway, while I was on the step stool, I felt a sharp prick to my calf.”
My wolf nears the surface, wanting to tear whoever it was to shreds. LaFontaine’s beast vibrates, just as angry.
“I registered two people, but I didn’t see faces. The one who stuck the needle in my leg was dressed in all black — her clothes, shoes and she had on a ski mask that covered her hair and face.”
“Her?”
I nod. “It was a woman. That much I’m certain.”
“How do you know?” Nash scribbles in his notepad. “Did you hear a voice?”
“Only grunts when I hit her. She wasn’t very strong. But, I’m sure because when I kicked the person between the legs, I didn’t connect with male genitalia. And she didn’t drop
like a man would have.”
LaFontaine smirks. “You fought hard.”
Not returning his smile, she nods. “The woman probably has a broken nose. And the man with her could have a bruised rib or two.”
“There was a man?” The detective scribbles that down.
She nods, again. “I didn’t see him. He grabbed me from behind.”
“Can you give us heights? Weights?”
“She was five or six inches taller than me, average build. The man” — she pauses and works her elbows back and front — “um, I hit him in the lower abdomen. So, I’d say six feet maybe. And he was bulky muscle. No flab.”
The detective notes her remarks on the legal pad.
“Accents? Did they speak to one another?”
“She didn’t. But he did.” Her brows crease. “And his voice was familiar.”
The detective’s head swivels up.
“Someone you know?” I ask hopeful for a lead.
“I think so. I’ve been trying to place his voice, but the drug” — she shrugs. “Maybe my mind was playing tricks on me.”
“Could have been someone you know, Cruz, using Shav to get to you,” he says with an accusing tone.
“If that’s so, they’ve signed their own death warrant,” I growl.
“Even if it’s a Native wolf?” He smirks.
“Especially if it’s one of my own.”
The detective nods. He knows, everyone knows, that I have no mercy on traitors.
“What about scents? Perfume or cologne?” LaFontaine asks Shavone.
“Charcoal. They smelled like a backyard barbecue.”
“To hide their scent from wolves.”
“That’s what I thought, too.” She nods.
His forehead creases with a fury I share. Protecting witches, this one in particular, seems to be our only common ground.
“Do you recall a vehicle? Who undressed you? Going into the Kitten Club? Being strapped on to the exam table?”
My beast seethes.
“No. I lost consciousness before leaving the storeroom. The next thing I remember” — she twines her fingers — “is hearing disturbing noises.”
“What kind of noises?”
She looks away, grimacing. “Metal clinking, smacks like objects and hands hitting skin, people hissing and moaning. I was blindfolded, flat on my back. My feet” — she blinks rapidly — “were up in stirrups. My arms and legs were restrained. Even my head was strapped down with a gag in my mouth. I couldn’t move, couldn’t see, couldn’t speak.”
Soft Fate (Wolven Moon Book 2) Page 11