Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight.
Falter
'To be hesitant, weak or unsure.'
This is where I falter.
In the dark corners of unlit rooms, grasping skin that's cold and hard (but feels too fucking good) in moments and spaces in between the small interim of reality and, secretly, heaven.
How can I resist when her hands pull me against her, when she's naked in between my thighs and moaning my name? How can I resist this creature, so rightfully my enemy, but so wrongfully beautiful?
There is no thought before, only relief when it happens.
My mind is blank as my eyes roam her glowing body, casting the reflection of the far away moon. She's gorgeous in every way, from the simple curve of her ample hips to the softness of her thighs, though her skin is harder than stone.
And I just can't take it.
Control is utterly important. Of all my brethren, this I know above all else. But why, when her lips are against my skin, when she calls my name and moans to my thrusts, I seem to have none of said power at all?
Only fleeting moments of pure ecstasy that break me down to the young boy I am.
Vulnerable.
The only question that really eats me when I'm alone, in my bed is…Why does that vulnerability feel so damn good?
Author's Note: I ship Jacob and Rosalie too much. Very ambiguous when reading, I know. I like it that way. Hope you do as well. Reviews are love. -Delta
