Love Is A Lie (Blake/Mature)

With their exit from the movie theatre, Wesley held onto her hand and walked her out the double doors, just as he had walked her in. He could feel the warmth of her body from being so close to his own. His eyes traveled down her body, latching to her chest and looking to her eyes. "I have the perfect place in mind.. I want this evening to be perfect." He walked with her down the street, looking past all the people as they kissed or spoke of intimate things with one another. Wesley knew what was coming to him and he knew exactly what he wanted from this night. He would be the guy to get it too. Never had he been in a relationship, and he was not about to start now. As they walked to the Borgia hotels, he opened the door for her. They walked hand in hand until they got to the counter. When they did, he released her hand and started to pull out his wallet. The clerk placed his book he had been reading face down and looked to them both with a grim stare. "Sir, we have no rooms for the night. I apologize but you will need to find somewhere else to stay." His tone was cold and unapologetic. Wesley stuffed his wallet back into his back pocket and grabbed her hand once more. "Just a minor set back, I promise you. I know a decent place." Wesley grabbed her hand once more and opened the door for her, allowing them both to walk out. The wind seemed to have picked up since their first stroll to this location. His brown eyes had searched every sign telling him where he needed to turn and go. He finally made a left down a dark alley and whispered to her, "It may look horrible, but I can promise you that we are safe here. I know the guy who runs this place." As they approached the building, a tree had blocked the neon sign which read "Moonlight Inn". Rumors of this place were it had been ran by a Werewolf, but nobody could actually confirm it. The lights of the neon sign flickered in the dark, even allowing the "l" to turn completely off. So it needed some upkeep. It was still a place to have a bed and a shower for what they would truly need.

As they walked to the door, Wesley stopped and looked to her for a moment. "Try and keep an open mind." He leaned and kissed her lips, passion fueled between their touch, but he would be good for now. He opened the door and allowed her to walk in past him. As they were both in, he closed the door behind them. His brown eyes looked to the large male standing behind the desk. "Vinny, my man! How have you been? I see you've been keeping this place alive... barely.." he joked as he approached the counter. "Why if it isn't my buddy ol' pal, you mot...." Vinny paused as he say Blake and nodded to the girl, but looked back to Wesley. "Who's the broad? She's prettier than a picture." Wesley grabbed her hand and pulled her close to him, wrapping his arm around her and holding her close. "Don't be getting any ideas, Vinny. This is my girlfriend, Blake. We tried to get a room for the night at the Borgia, but they said they were all booked up. So we decided to pay you a visit." Vinny stared at Blake and his smile grew, "Wes, you know the Borgia. They run off those high dollars and probably didn't let you in for all the issues you've caused them over the years. They probably have your face plastered over every bathroom stall. But the two of ya are allowed to stay the night here. And hey, it's on me.. But only because you brought a keeper with ya." Vinny turned his back to them, grabbing a key with a large red circle on the loop, reading "107" and slid it to Wesley. He caught it and led the way down the hall to their room. When they made it to the door, he unlocked it and allowed her in. The place had some changes to it since Wesley had last visited, but it had been for some time. The sheets on the bed were a dark color, almost black. It was the best way to hide the stains of prior guests. The blanket across the top was red as blood, dark and crimson. He turned on the lights, allowing a dim light to fill the room. It was perfect for what he had in mind. "So what do you think of this place? I know it's not high class or anything close. But I wanted to come and be somewhere special with my special girl. After all, I think it's about time I start being completely honest with you." He walked and sat on the edge of the bed, and patted a spot right beside him. "You may want to have a seat for this."

The Hotels were his first choice. They walked in the autumn night to the strip where all the hotels were grouped together. The city was truly beautiful at night, it was something she really loved. She loved seeing how awake and alive everything still was, even at the late hours. She loved seeing the lights of the buildings and in the precisely planted trees along the sidewalk. When she wasn't kissing Wesley or whispering little secrets with him, she'd smile and greet the people she passed. The world had become so dreary and depressing, it did good to brighten someones day with a smile. Overhead was a very glamorous sign announcing the Borgia Hotels, a very prestigious place to stay. Ever the gentleman, the Lieutenant held the door for her, guiding her to the extremely clean marble concierge desk where a man politely turned them away for lack of space. Momentarily the mans words reminded her of the story of the Virgin Mary and the birth of Jesus in Bethlehem. Growing up in the human world she was bound to learn a thing or two of their religions and beliefs. Wesley was quick to once more claim her hand and lead her away from the hotel. His pace and direction supposed he had a particular place in mind, his words saying the same. He lead her to a dingy looking alley, earning him a disapproving look from the Mender. She had not intended her first time with a man to be in such a foul smelling, impersonal space. He tried to placate her misgivings, but she couldn't put it out of her mind.

Blake skittered past him, hurrying through the door into the less-than-inviting reception area. Upon his own entrance, Wesley transformed from the kind, caring man he was with her, into a loud and boisterous human male. She followed him quietly to the desk while he greeted his friend, the heels of her little boots clacking softly on the floor. Suddenly she felt very exposed in her low-cut shirt. Her hands moved up to readjust her jacket to cover herself - she didn't like the looks she was getting from "Vinny". She curled effortlessly into Wes' side while his arm wrapped around her, she felt safer that way. Vinny seemed the sort of person every girl should avoid, but if Wesley - she smiled as he called her his girlfriend to the other man - trusted him, the so would she. The woman eyed the key as it was handed to them, noticing the room number written on the tag. 107. Nothing special. The interior of room 107 was much the same, she noticed when they entered. Plain and basic, with dark sheets on the bed. A door further in that she supposed lead to the bathroom. Nothing much to speak of as a kitchenette. This place wasn't intended for extended stays. The dark decor with a splash of red reminded her of the old vampire lore, human fiction from the 20th century and even earlier. She looked at him blankly. "It's certainly not where I expected this night to end up, but I suppose it's fine. And it's who you're with that makes it special..." She trailed, approaching him slowly, perching daintily on the edge of the bed. Her knee just lightly brushed his as she positioned herself beside him. "What is it, Wes?"

As she sat down beside him, he looked to her with a serious expression. He grabbed her hand and held it in his own. He looked down to their joined hands and stared as he moved to interlock their fingers. He tried to make it seem like this was a hard thing to do for him. He had read all the books, knew all the lines. He had done this a million times before. But he always had a wild card up his sleeve. Being here, at the Moonlight Inn, he did not have said wild card. This place was a dumb, to put it frankly. Never had he brought such a high class girl to a shit hole such as this one. In order to get the deed done, he would have to go down deep and bring up some sentimental crap that females fell for. Wesley finally brought his brown eyes up and looked to her gorgeous blue eyes. "Blake, I never wanted to bring you here. In fact, I didn't think we would really be at the point of having to get a room together, but everything has been so perfect. I know it may seem like we are moving fast, but I can't stop these feelings." He stared into her eyes and held her hand tight. "I've been a horrible guy in the past. I've done some horrible things to people I can never take back. But when I'm with you, I want to be a better person. When we are not together, I am always thinking about you. I think about the simple things like if you are thinking of me, or what you are doing. I think about things like, what we are going to do the next time we see each other. The best thing is, when I think of you, I actually smile. It brightens my day, no matter what happens." He leaned in and kissed her cheek gently. "Blake, I've never felt like this before... But I'm very sure I love you. I really do." He looked to her and tried to think of the most adorable face he could use and used it. Now would just be her reply to his words. Would she fall for it? Would she speak the same words in response to his false heart-felt speech? Only time would tell, and his heart was pumping with adrenaline. For if she returned to him with the response he wanted, then he would take her right here and now.

Blake played with her fingers in her lap while she waited for him to say his piece. He stayed her nervous hands and interlocked their fingers. His strong grip held her steady and stopped her from fidgeting. He seemed very serious and it made her nervous. Was he going to tell her they couldn't see each other anymore? Was it because they were of two different species? Or had his General found out and ordered him to end the relationship? But no, his serious demeanour was slated for words at the other end of the spectrum. "You- you love me?" She blinked furiously, begging the tears to stay back. It had been so long since anyone had said those words to her, she'd almost forgotten what they meant. Worse, she'd nearly forgotten what it felt like to be loved. And maybe she loved him too. "Wes, it doesn't matter if we're here or in the Borgia, or in my den in the forest, a small lie, but one she used to make a point, "so long as we're together that's all I need." She released one hand to cup his cheek, leaning in to softly kiss him. "And I love you too." She whispered, blue eyes smiling at his brown ones. The Mender was so happy to have her human half at this moment, to be able to feel such a strong emotion was a privilege, one she was glad to have known. But she remembered it could also be a curse, because with the good, came the bad - for there must always be balance.

"Blake, I really do love you. I'm crazy about you. I wish there were a way we could truly be together, one in which I could see you no matter what happened. A place where our races didn't really matter, you know? Maybe someday that will happen. I would love to see your den, I think it would be so awesome." He smiled to her, holding her hand tight in his own. He brought their joined hands up to his lips and kissed the back of her hand gently, his brown eyes staring into a sea of blue. Wesley had laid the ground work perfectly, covering his bases and implementing plans which made it sound as if they would be together forever. Every girl wanted their fantasy wedding and life, something perfect to hold onto, even for a moment. It was this frailty in women that he feasted upon. In this situation, the prey was hunting the predator. He used adorable words and phrases as the bait. He utilized his eyes as the trap, and eventually she would cause the string to snap with a single kiss. Foreign girls were pretty easy with Wesley. They didn't know the rumors of his conquests or the truth about him. Why would other races even consume themselves with the truth of humans? He dropped their hands down and pulled his from her palm. He stood up from the bed and started to unbutton the buttons of his coat. In a seductive manner, he pulled it off his shoulders, shrugging it to his mid back. He took it off in what seemed like one fluid motion. With an sleeve in one hand, he flung it to the chair behind him. He gave her a seductive smile and went straight to his shirt. He grabbed it at the base of the material, wadding it in his palms. He reached his arms up and slung the shirt off and over to the floor. He didn't really care where it went and that didn't matter. One hand grabbed the buckle to his belt and unhooked the rod. With one fluid motion, he stripped the belt from his slacks. Now he stood before Blake with only his trousers on. His rock hard abs showed each muscle, individual from the rest. His six pack was almost a work of art, something he had worked to keep going for so long. Ladies loved the muscles. He tossed his belt to the bed and stared at Blake. With a single finger, he inched it back and forth, beckoning her to come to him. If she did, he would begin stripping her as well, but if she did not, he would tackle her to the mattress, and utilize his belt as a tie down.

What a fool this child was. So naive, so trusting, an incomprehensible trait when one considered what she had come from. What she was hiding from. Any would think that her trust would be hard earned, that it would take months, even years to get close to her. But no, with Wesley it was different. He had saved her from the waters she so loved. He had reminded her how beautiful she was, he wanted her, wanted to be with her. It was enough to make her believe him. Why would he lie about something like that? But if he wanted her now would he still want her when he saw her scars? No amount of praise and compliments could make her believe her scars were beautiful. They were ugly reminders of an ugly part of her life she'd rather forget. Blake smiled at him, shrugging out of her leather jacket. As she lost the jacket, she lost a great deal of the confidence she'd had that night. It was an odd thing, to associate a personality trait with an item of clothing but she did. Every time she wore that jacket she felt bad. And that made her feel good. The addition of the leather apparel to her outfit gave her the feeling if an inner strength, like she could do anything she wanted and get away with it. Leaving the jacket to the side made her meeker, more submissive. If she'd left it on she might've stayed where she was on the bed. Instead the Mender stood, dutifully approaching her human. With each step that closed the distance between them, she bit down a little harder on her lip. Admiring the chiseled abs on his torso made her weak, the physical pain of her teeth on her lower lip kept her together. When she was close enough her hands stretched out tentatively to graze her fingers over his abs. She'd never been so close to a semi-naked (or naked) man in a non-medical sense. She wanted to feel his muscles move beneath her touch, she wanted to know the effect she had on him. Her hands resting on his stomach she leaned up, pressing her lips to his in a loving manner. In her mind, the perfect way for this night to move apace would be slow and sensual, loving. But what did she know? She'd never mated someone, never made love to a man. She could be entirely wrong, maybe it was better to go hard out, hot and strong. It was up to her man to take the lead and show her the best night of her life.

Cautiously she got up from the bed, after having taken off her coat. She seemed unsure of things and immediately, he could tell she was a virgin. How could this get any better? Wesley knew that he would be completely in control this night, not giving her the reigns unless she truly wanted them. On her approach, she looked to him, and he could tell she wanted him. There was a simmering fire within her gaze. It was interesting to see. She had seemed to come out of her shy comfort zone, but Wesley had plans to remove that all together. When she made it to him, her hands moved about his torso, running her fingers over each muscle. He had to admit he loved the feel of a woman touching his body. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine Sky touching him and soon his lips were greeted with a sensitive kiss. There were many ways in which Wesley could take this night. He could do slow, like the appropriate boyfriend should or he could give it to her good, making her want more. In the end, he would decide to do a mixture of both. The female body was a delicate thing, especially one which had not felt the pleasure of the male organ. As they kissed, he moved a hand to her cheek, cupping it in the palm of his hand. This alone was a symbol of care and love. A simple gesture to keep the lie alive. His other hand wrapped around her back, touching her through the white blouse she wore. The dark skinny jeans which had held her long and gorgeous legs seemed a little stiff to him, he could feel the tensing of her body. Was it from his touch? Or was it another factor he had yet to discover? Whatever it was, he would do everything in his power to allow her to relax. He kissed her gently, allowing their lips to absorb the warmth of one another. Slowly, his tongue edged its way into her mouth, forcing her lips open just enough for it to wrestle with hers.

His hand upon her back moved to her hip and pulled her tight to him. As they kissed, he opened his eyes, watching her. She seemed to be enjoying himself and he smiled. He broke the kiss and kissed her cheek. He trailed the affection to her ear, nibbling on it gently as he moved his hand down her side. Now both of his hands rested on her hips. From her ear, he kissed down her neck gently, careful not to let his desires flood his mind and his actions. He was supposed to be going slow. He was supposed to be leading her into this action gently. He calmed himself down, feeling the blood rushing to his crotch. His hands rested on her hips and gently, his thumbs moved beneath the blouse, lifting it so he could feel her skin. Back and forth, his thumbs slid across her skin. One felt a subtle bump on her stomach, but he ignored it. He would see it when the time was right. As he caressed her neck, he started to grab the bottom of her shirt and slowly pull it up over her form. She could either allow it, or stop it right there. It would be her choice.

This could really be a thing. That was her last truly coherent thought of the evening. That she and Wesley could be an item. If they were careful. If they put in the effort. After she thought those words, she felt calmer, more at peace with her decision to be with Wes. That change in attitude saw her surrender herself completely to him. She closed her eyes slowly, leaning into his hand where it cupped her cheek. So soft, so tender. His other hand went to the small of her back, holding her close. It was foreign, yet not uninviting for the Mender. At the slight pressure of his hand on her back, she arched her spine, accentuating its natural human curves - ultimately thrusting her chest against his. Their kiss was long, passionate and demanding. The human took control of their lips, breaking them apart. She started opening her eyes to see what was going on when his lips swiftly trailed to her cheek, then to her ear. Light, animalistic nibbling sent her eyes into darkness once more while she focused on the feeling. He spent a little while there, though it seemed like both forever and never. From her ear he made his way down her neck, finding the typical sensitive spot on her neck. She didn't know she had a sensitive spot there, it was a sudden shock the amount of pleasure simple lips against her skin could bring. His hands, now on her hips, raised her shirt just a little, fingers trailing her stomach. She felt his thumb cross the ridge of one of one of her scars. Did he care, did it bother him? He said nothing, so Blake allowed herself to continue experiencing her pleasure, moaning softly. Her shirt was moving again, by the mans design. With a pained sigh she stepped away, not to stop, but to help him. She raised her arms over her head, letting him remove her top from her torso, standing in her boots, jeans and bra now. The moment her shirt was gone, she stepped on the heel of her left boot, sliding her foot from the enclosure before removing the right boot in a similar fashion. Bare footed she stepped forward again, cupping his face in her hands and standing on tiptoe to kiss him with a passion. She couldn't help it, her instincts were begging her to do more. The fire in her loins was spreading, sending her near insane when she wasn't touching him.

As she stepped back from him, giving the space to help remove her shirt, Wesley did just that. He lifted it off and over her form, then balled it up and tossed it onto the floor. It did not matter where it went or why, all that mattered was she was closer to being naked, and even closer for his Bucket List item to be checked off. With the removal of her shirt, she took the initiative to take off her own boots. It was sexy how she took control of that and quickly came back to him. Her hands cupped his cheeks, kissing him with the passion from before, perhaps with a slight bit more. His arms wrapped around her torso protectively on the back, pulling her as close as possible to him. Wesley had enough practice to know the certain skill which could reveal her milky mounds to him, with just the slide of two fingers against his thumb. It was a trick he had developed from all the one night stands, the happy endings, and the occasional fling. Undressing a woman was more fun than anything for him, watching their bodies become naked was amazing. Intercourse was fun, but leading up to it, had been what he always wanted. It was a time where one could really control the tempo or the action itself. Teasing was easy and could manipulate many girls to do things they normally would not. It was in this moment Wesley found himself thinking of Blake's tonsils. Did she still have them? That would be a key point in this evening, just to see how far down she could - or even - would go. The human held her close, kissing her lips and forcing his tongue into her mouth, It wrestled around with her glossy wet muscle and his hands coursed up and down her frame. He touched over her spine, the straps of her bra and back down to the locking mechanism. The machine which could make any man look a fool turned Wesley to appear as a god. He grabbed the material with his right hand, and with one slick motion, he unlatched the hooks of her bra from the semi-circles which held it together. The material now rested on her shoulders, wrapped around her breasts tight as their bodies were pressed so closely.

Holding her, he used the strength of his arms to pick her up and carry her to the mattress. He never once broke the kiss and seemed to move around the room as if he knew it like his own home. He gently placed her back down on the bed, but soon picked her up once more to shift her to higher position on the mattress. When he thought she was comfortable enough, he gently helped her slip the bra off her skin. He sat up and stared down to her newly revealed body. The sight of her, half naked before him, forced his bulge to collect, what seemed like, all the blood in his body. It grew and flexed, but the pants he wore kept it hidden from her eyes. For now. Wesley looked over her breasts, to her stomach. He could see all the scars, but he did not worry about them. Instead, he was worried about Blake. Many times before when he had been engaging in pre-intercourse with a woman, he would notice their "flaws" and totally close up to him. It would take hard work to get those petals to open once again, and sometimes it had not even been worth it. He would not allow this to happen. Not this day. Not this time. His hands caressed her waist and slowly moved to the middle of her stomach. His hands guided themselves gently over her scars, feeling each individual one as if it were a trail or something to that effect. He stared into her eyes, trying to convey a message of love - one he had faked so many time before. The perfect liar. Wesley spoke gently as he did not want her to fear him or herself. "Blake, I just want you to know that I love all of you. In my eyes, you are perfect.."

She stood in his warm embrace, kissing this man she thought she loved. She vice that held her breasts so perfectly in place slumped away from her body, unclasped by the expert fingers of her partner. The tiniest graze of his fingers on her back sparked a cluster of goosebumps. This was now the furthest she had ever gone with a man, Human or Shifter. Although, considering she lived with Shifters only until she was 21, that didn't leave much room to explore her sexual preferences. Even then, only until the age of 14 was she allowed to roam the palace and kingdom with impunity. After that she had been confined to the palace, then to the East Wing, then to her room. By the time she turned 18 she was living in a dungeon cell, her twenty-first birthday she was a prisoner of war in the enemy camp, already sporting numerous scars. Those scars he was now caressing with such a tenderness as though they might burst open if he were any rougher. Strong arms raised her and instinctively her legs wrapped around his wast. Blake felt as though she were floating on air when he carried her to the bed, the dark dais upon which they would do the deed. Finally he removed the loose undergarment from her torso. The Mender released him, laying her legs to the side while he sat up staring at her. She became self-conscious, wrapping her arms over her stomach, trying to cover most of the scars. It was useless, his hands brushed hers aside like low-hanging cobwebs, his hands resting over her stomach, tracing the frontal scars. His eyes were sincere, his tone gentle. Her blue eyes searched his brown for any hint of sarcasm, but it was not something she found there. She nodded. "I-I love you too Wes. And I want this, with you." She sat up, taking his face in her hands she brought their lips together, laning back onto the mattress and pulling him with her. The Shifter was becoming restless, her jean-covered legs felt too constrained. Her hips would rise from time to time, grinding against his bulge, if such a faint touch could be considered grinding. Her breasts grazed against his toned chest as he lay atop her, their tongues dancing together.