Torn
Authors Note – Set during "New Moon", after Bella knew Jacob was a werewolf, but before Alice returns. I think this is feasible in the story, not so much AU as it is what happened that we didn't see. It just came to me at work one day. Please note that I do not consider myself to be a Jacob/Bella shipper.
Bella knew that this was wrong. She looked down at his flushed face, his eyes rolling back in his head as she frantically thrust over him. His hair was splayed chaotically around his visage on the pillow, his hands digging painfully into her hips; she knew there would be bruises, but she didn't care. Edward would never see them, and she wasn't sure they'd even be recognizable as fingerprints through the denim. It was the time she felt the most whole.
She never took off her pants when they did this, she couldn't bear it – not yet. If she gave her entire self to him, she'd be admitting Edward was gone forever. But it seemed to be enough for Jacob to have her covered sex riding him, to take her small breasts in his huge, hot hands, to come into his jeans with a loud growl and a bite to the inside if her wrist. He always whispered her name, his voice full of the reverence and trust she didn't deserve.
She couldn't bring herself to say his.
It seemed best to her to turn her head away when he tried to kiss her. It wouldn't ever mean the same thing as when she kissed Edward. She couldn't bear it, to kiss lips so hot when the lips she wanted were so cold. Sometimes she could forget the heat of the hands on her body, forget the despair while her body betrayed her; but she knew if he kissed her she would come undone. She was coming undone already, slowly, her seams fraying.
Later, when he'd grown more bold, she loved it when he pulled her beneath him, when he pushed his hands inside her sweatpants and made her squirm. She still wouldn't let him kiss her even then, when she was writhing beneath him. He was waiting, she knew, expecting her resolve to waver over these weeks, and maybe someday it would. But for now she pulled a pillow over her mouth every time she came, so she wouldn't allow him to take her mouth in a moment of weakness. A change of clothes was a necessity now, whenever she went to La Push. If Charlie or Billy ever noticed her wearing different garments when she arrived or left, neither ever mentioned it. She doubted Charlie would question anything as long as she was happy.
Once, when they were sitting at their tree, she was overcome by his sweetness, her guilt fiery and impossible to ignore. He held her hands, lacing his fingers through hers as she rocked against his leg, moaning prettily. He kissed her forehead as she shuddered, leaving wet heat on his thigh.
She always wondered how he could stitch her up and rip her open at the same time.
~fin