The Sparkling Diamond, a twilight fanfic

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or Moulin Rouge!

Steamy Movie Crossover Contest

Name of story: The Sparkling Diamond

Penname: StoneSilver

Movie or TV Show: Moulin Rouge!

Main Character Pairing: Rosalie and Jacob

POV: Third Person

To read the rest of the entries go to the Steamy Movie Crossover Contest C2.

If you want to see the rules for this contest go to TheThreeSmutketeers profile page.

ObessingoverEdward, Jayeliwood, or TheSpoiltOne-amanda2505 profile pages.

If you have any questions about the contest, contact them.

Contest ends February 5, 2009

If you'd like to see the other entries in this contest, check out the C2.

"The show must go on, Satine. We're creatures of the underworld. We can't afford to love." -Harold Zidler

The Sparkling Diamond

"Come with me."

Her voice caressed the air, a gentle brush of silk against his ear. But it was only when he turned to her that he noticed she was laughing, causing the bust of her corset to lift with the motion. He smiled at the blush that fanned across her cheeks, her long, slender hand stretched from beneath the shadows in invitation.

He looked over his shoulder to the middle of the deconstructed stage, Carlisle pointing this way and that as the Duke's head followed, their mouths moving as they seemed absorbed in their work, the music of the rehearsal drowning out all else.

Jacob eased himself into the shadows of which she occupied, and pressed her up against the wall, a smile still playing with the corner of her lips as he kissed them, his teeth catching the flesh and nipping as she stifled a whimper before pulling away and dragging him up the darkened steps.

He followed quickly, a grin plastered upon his face as he looked back down to the stage below, everyone still obliviously unaware of their absence. But time stood still for them as they entered the dimly lit balcony, completely deserted due to the rehearsal just feet beneath them.

A shiver of pure thrill raced down his spine as sweat began to slick his tanned arms, his heart already beginning to roar in his head, blood pounding in his ears as she laughed, her hands already tangled in the collar of his shirt as she pulled her roughly against him, and placed her lips firmly against his.

He growled as she buried her hands in his hair, her fingers tangling in the silken strands as his own hands found her hips, filling his palms with the softened flesh before lifting her up with ease, her legs automatically curling around his waist.

Rosalie smiled against his lips as her back hit the balcony's pillar, biting into her spine as his wonderfully warm hands lifted her skirt, his fingertips tracing her deliciously curved thighs, causing her to tremble and whimper, his own returning smile creating restless butterflies in the pit of her stomach.

Slowly he began to stroke between her legs, just fingertips and knuckles before she was writhing around him, her pleas sounding far too loud even in the midst of the music from below, their session already beginning to close as he saw Carlisle and the Duke watching the dancers from afar. But he noticed Jasper's wandering eyes, and another shiver, fear this time, ran the length of his body.

But Rosalie purred softly in his ear, her teeth tracing the rim as her tongue dipped slowly inside, his knees threatening to give as he growled, louder this time, the sound coming from deep within his chest. And she only smiled, her hips slowly stroking him as her hands hovered above his pants before freeing the zipper and taking him in her open palm.

He groaned as her delicate fingers stroked the length of him before he felt her heat slowly surround him, and she slid him deep inside. They both moaned as their gaze caught, a smile sparkling in both of their eyes as his hips caught a rhythm with hers, her back arching into every slight motion, her hips rolling and swaying, making the very world beneath him crumble until she was all that was left.

And then she moaned his name, and even as his hips twitched from her strangled voice, his lips suddenly covered hers to swallow the sound, her fingernails clawing into his back from the intensity. Her whimpers vibrated onto his lips with every thrust, her toes curling as her teeth finally caught his lip.

But when he bit her back, she came.

The force of her orgasm triggered his own, her body clutching his as he continued to slide into her wet heat, his head swimming as release seeped into his bones, warm and glorious as he settled in the afterglow.

Her chest heaved against his as he laughed, her own following as he righted his clothes, his hand pulling through his tousled hair as he slid the sleeve of his shirt across his lips, wiping the red lipstick stain from his face as she smiled in apology.

"You're going to meet me tonight, then?" he smiled rather goofily back, her own laughter answering.

"Yes, of course," her hands shooed him from the balcony as she heard light footsteps from the stairs.

"You promise?" he pleaded before kissing her again, another large mark of lipstick smudging his chin.

"Yes," she said as he smiled, innocent and full of life, before disappearing down the stairs right as Carlisle mounted the balcony, looking flushed and exasperated, as though he were out of breath.

"Carlisle-?"

"Jasper," he started, "…the Duke has spent a fortune on you, he's given you everything, Rose. Everything! And you are sneaking off into dark corners with the stagehand!"

"Carlisle," she began, trying lightly to laugh off the subject, "that's ridic-"

"I saw you together."

She began to shake her head, a smile still haunting her lips as she turned away and looked down upon her beloved theatre, her eyes filling with tears before she saw the Duke, his ice cold eyes staring right at her.

"He holds the deed to the Moulin Rouge."

She gasped almost inaudibly as she turned to stare at Carlisle, his own bright blue eyes ghosting with an inconceivable pain.

"It's only an infatuation, merely nothing, I assure you, Carlisle."

"Then go to him, tonight. Go to him tonight and end this 'infatuation', Rosalie," he turned as tears began to spill silently down her cheeks, "The Duke expects you in his tower at eight."

And with those cold words, he left her to her tears, which did nothing but stain the carpet beneath her feet.

The Gothic Tower
8:30

Shadows threw themselves upon the marble floor, moonlight filtering in through the sheer curtains to fall across Jasper's face, the candlelight flickering in front of him. His fist was clenched, the dinner he had prepared sat on silver platters, still waiting to be served. Their magnificent scent already having been washed away by the pungent smell of a Parisian twilight, the food now sitting cold upon the elongated table.

His face was impassive, yet his features were sharp and his eyes were undoubtedly filled with anger, almost seething red around their perfectly silver edges. He drew in deep breaths, his patience already having been corroded by Rosalie's obsessive behavior. And now that his wants and desires had not been fulfilled, it was as though a time bomb had been detonated, ready to explode within a fraction of a second, a caress of a touch, or the small words of one very lost courtesan.

The Absinthe Loft
8:30

He could swear her scent was on the edge of the late autumn breeze, the soft warmth of sandalwood and the vitality of a rain spilt sunrise. He closed his eyes before looking back down at the watch on his wrist. He tapped it with his finger before sighing and looking back out of the window, it's large white curtains blowing across his still unmade bed.

Anxiety wore him thin these days, the Duke having had him on a tight rope for the last week, his hands covered in blisters that wore raw, Rosalie having soaked them in warm water and rubbed them with crème until he finally fell asleep.

He sighed one last time before turning to his still empty room, the last shimmering dusts of gold having been brushed away from the sky with a stroke of midnight blue, which now covered the whole background.

His heart dropped as the minutes crawled past, the loss of her presence making the room feel hollow and empty, and the clock ticked with the beats of his heart, now as hollow as time and as hollow as the room around him.

And then, with a sudden epiphany that left him with no air in his lungs, he knew. He knew exactly where she was. The gothic tower was only seconds away and he knew deep down that business was business, she'd said so herself. But the realization of the fact that her beautiful body could be tainted by such hands made his very skin crawl, and he could imagine his eyes as they roamed her curves, soft and full beneath his hands.

He wanted to scream from the agony of the thoughts, let them roar out into vocalized words so the pain of it all no longer haunted him, so he was no longer the only one who had to hear, see, feel it all. But instead, his face was calm, wistful even as he continued to stare down at the Moulin Rouge, who's lights flickered and whirred, turning on for another night, another storm, another hurricane to pull you in with it's never ending current, a current that he was sure would wash him away without the slightest thought.

Author's Note: This could never have been written without the help and love of my dear sister Ruby, the boy who holds my heart, Justin, or the best big brother in the world, Clifton. Even my crazy wife, Nina, had her two sense put into all of this. This is dedicated to them. I would love to make this into an entire story, though that all depends on you. Special thanks to a very sophisticated tiger named Rafael, who knows he's greatly appreciated. Review!! --Delta