Secrets of the Wild
Author's Note: Thanks for opening this story! Secrets of the Wild is rated M. This is a pilot chapter. It's just a little something I came up with a while ago. And while my other story is on hiatus, I figured I'd post this first chapter to see if you guys liked it. Enjoy :)
Summary: Bella was rescued by the notorious wildmen from nearly freezing to death in the forest. Once she regained health, she was then forced to marry their handsome leader, Jacob. Their people were enemies for as long as they could remember, but can their love change everything? Will pasts that once were kept so secret come back to haunt them? (AU/AH/J&B)
Ages: Bella is 19 and Jacob is 25.
Language used: Sesotho
Soundtrack: Frozen Synapse by Audiomachine. (epic.)
Chapter One
She ran and she ran through the snow, the wind whipping at her face and leaving her lips tinged blue. The tears that she cried would freeze on her cheeks and fall to the ground as solids. Her boots filled up with snow easily, for they weren't the kind of boots that one should trudge through six inches of snow with. Her feet were freezing and she could barely feel her legs. She lacked a coat, or a horse, or proper snow gear.
She couldn't turn back. They'd catch her and bring her back to that hellish nightmare she used to call 'home.' She reached the edge of the forest and entered with vigor. She could still see the kingdom behind her. She heard the sounds of distant shouting; they must have finally noticed she'd left.
God, she couldn't let herself be caught. She wouldn't be able to live through it.
She ran past the trees, stumbling over sticks hidden in the snow. Her fingers, at any moment, felt like they could crack and fall off with the spreading numbing sensation. This winter was harsh and refused to take pity on her. Each breath she breathed curled out of her mouth like a puff of dragonsmoke.
The deeper she went, the slower she became. It was like her whole body was freezing with each passing moment. Each step was painful and she began to cry from it, but she still pushed herself on. She could hear the barking of dogs behind her and the cries of men echoing out behind her. She had gotten a good head start, but they were fast and knew how to track well.
The trees were ghostly looking, with their naked branches stretching out like arms and the lands barren. The winter winds screamed in her ears, showing her no mercy. "Please, God," she begged. But God didn't seem to hear her. Those men were closing in behind her. She pushed herself on through the forest, weaving through the trees and trudging through thick snow.
Soon it became harder and harder to even take a single step. She couldn't take anymore. She was so, so, cold. She wandered down a steep slope, trying to keep a hold of herself while trying to move on forward. Her knees gave way and she tumbled violently down the slope, landing at the bottom in a heap. She didn't know if she'd broken anything; all she felt was pain, everywhere. She closed her eyes and wished for death.
0o0o0o0o
This must be heaven.
It was warm where she was, and she felt comfortable. Like she was lying in a bed. Was she lying in a bed? Her eyes opened slowly and she took a deep breath. She was relieved that her bones didn't ache anymore. She felt thawed out. There was a woman hunched over her, dabbing at her forehead with a warm cloth. That woman would have been most beautiful if not for the three, long and fleshy scars on the right side of her face.
The woman looked down at her and seemed pleased that she had awoken. "Your name?" she asked in a thick accent.
"Isabella," she replied, sitting up on her elbows in the bed. "Where am I? And who are you?"
"Emina," the woman said and pushed her back down to her pillow. "We will explain everyt'ing later. Now you need rest. You had a long journey." She took out a rag and dabbed Bella's forehead with warm water. She decided not to fight the woman. It was true; she had had a long journey and she still felt exhausted.
"I shall sleep now, Emina." Bella told the woman and nestled back against the pillow and pulled the warm quilts up to her chin. "I am so...very tired..."
0o0o0o0o
When Bella awoke again, she was alone in her tent. She hadn't bothered to look around her at her settings before, but now she would. The tent was small and cozy, with a fire in the middle of it. The walls and ground were made of stretched and dried animal skins. On the floor there were rugs made of wool and yarn to cover the animal skin ground and pillows stuffed with goose and duck feathers.
Her bedframe was made out of wood and the mattress was stuffed with feathers as well. The quilts were woven out of wool and some with yarn spun from rabbit fur. She looked around. There was a stool next to her bed with a wooden cup filled with a substance that looked a lot like wine, but smelled nothing like it. She picked up the cup and drank the substance, grimacing at the taste. Raspberries, she tasted, mixed with some other types of herbs. It was quite gross.
On the floor she found clothes. She was no longer in her flimsy red and gold dress from back home, but in a cotton under dress with warm fleece socks. The clothes on the floor consisted of a heavy coat made of presumably wolf fur and insulated deerskin pants. And boots! She gasped with excitement that her feet would finally be warm again. She slipped on her deerskin pants and then the boots, which were made out of leather and covered with warm wolf fur inside and out. Then came the coat, which felt like a blessing to her after being exposed to the cold for far too long.
The opening of the tent was flapping in the wind and she could see snow, lots of it, and people moving out there. There was commotion, like any normal village would have. Bella lifted her nose and smelled the scents carried by the wind. It was the smell of boar roasting over the fire. Curiously, she took a tentative step out of her tent and into the open.
The sky was darkening and the sun was slowly sinking into the sky. She must have slept well into the second day...how long had she truly slept? The people outside stopped in their tracks and stared at her like they'd never seen someone like her in all their life. She considered how odd she must have looked to them with her pale skin, light chestnut brown hair and hazel eyes. The people here were darker in skin color and all had black hair with black eyes. One of the children tugged at their mother's arm and began to cry. The child must have recognized the face of a Forksian.
She put her hands to her mouth in shock. She'd never made a child cry before and felt horrible. Bella turned as she heard footsteps approaching her. It was the same woman that was nursing her before, the one with the three scars. "Come wit' me," Emina instructed, pulling Bella along with her. She stumbled in the snow clumsily, looking back in shock at that same crying child.
At the end of the way there was a tall, long tent with markings on it. Handprints and paintings of animals and bones around the entrance of it. She shivered. She fully recognized this place now. Emina entered before she did, pulling Bella into the long tent with her. It was warm in here, and dark, too. Several old men were talking around the fire when they noticed her presence. The loud talking had stopped as they all looked up from where they sat to gaze upon her.
"Ke eng se boleloang ke see?" one of the older men asked, gesturing towards Bella with his hand. (What is the meaning of this?)
Emina stepped forward. "O o ile a mpolella ho mo tlisa mona ha a tsoha," she said. (You told me to bring her here when she woke.)
Bella turned to Eminane curiously. "How long did I sleep, Emina?"
"T'ree days," the woman replied.
"O ile a botsa?" the same old man asked. (What did she ask?)
"O ile a kōpa ka nako e kae o ile a ba ne ba robala," Emina said. (She asked how long she slept.)
A different old man stood up from the fire. This old man wore the skin of a snow fox on his head and walked towards her slowly. He inspected her with his small, beady eyes and touched the skin on her neck. "What are they doing?" she asked Emina.
To her surprise, it was not Emina, but the old man that answered her. "We are the Elders," he said. She didn't realize he could speak English as well. "I am Elder Ateara. The others are Uley, Clearwater and Black. You must answer questions now. Come. Sit."
The old man waved her forward and he went back to where he was originally seated at the head of the fire. She sat on the log on the other side of the fire. Emina sat beside her and offered Bella her hand. She took Emina's hand and squeezed it tight. Her lips trembled; she was afraid. The Elder called Clearwater leaned forward, his long gray hair tumbling over his shoulders. "What are you called?" he asked.
She breathed out slowly. "Isabella Swan."
"Bella," they all repeated, mispronouncing her name unintentionally.
"Where have you come from?" Uley asked.
She hesitated, unsure of herself. Tears peaked at the corner of her eyes. "F...F-Forks King-Kingdom," she stumbled over her words in fear. That place brought her so much of it, as much as she hated to admit it. She never wanted to return.
"And do you know where you are now?" questioned Ateara.
"With the wildmen in La Push," she said quietly.
"Quileute," Elder Ateara correctly viciously.
Bella looked down at her feet in embarrassment. "Quileute."
All of the men turned to each other and began to converse in deep conversation in their native language. Emina listened to their words, not bothering to translate for Bella. She nudged the older woman in the arm and silently begged for answers. "They are saying you will not be accepted by the people easily. Our kind...hate...your kind."
Bella sighed and tugged at her hair with her small hands. "I do not blame them," she whispered under her breath.
"They say that many people here wish you dead, or gone at the very least. The Elders have taken pity on you, it seems. They would marry you to keep you here in La Push..." Emina whispers, staring across the fire at the Elder called Black. "But...you must marry tonight."
Bella stood on her feet immediately, staring across the fire at the elders. "I cannot marry," she told them.
"You must," said Black. She hadn't heard him speak before now. "If you do not, the people will rebel against you and you will be thrown out of La Push. This marriage is your best option, the only one."
"I was...I was married to someone back in the kingdom. God save me, I still am." Bella explained. "It is a sin in my religion...I would be committing adultery."
"My son was married once as well," Elder Black said simply, placing a hand on her shoulder. "It is no matter. We are in La Push now. Everything you remember from your past life is gone now."
She bit her lip, feeling rather defeated. "Why tonight?" she questioned the Elders, her voice shaking. "I will marry whom you like if that is what you say is needed. I'd do anything to stay here, but please...please give me some time." She feebly played with her fingers. She had the feeling that she wanted to cry. She'd escaped one horrible marriage just to be forced into another.
The Elders looked at Emina to translate for them. They seemed to know English well, but not well enough for certain words. Black walked over to Bella, his long black hair reaching his hips. He wore feathers in his hair and his eyes were full of strong emotion, although Bella couldn't quite figure out what that emotion was. "There is no time. I can sense there is something out there that unsettles you, my child. You need protection and I will not ask...yet." He pulled her over to the side to speak to her in private. "And my son will give protection. These people will not accept you. If you marry someone of Quileute blood, my son, they will be forced to. Being married is much better than be killed or exiled from the land."
Bella's eyes widened. She'd heard the stories of the infamous wildmen whispered all about the kingdom. They were notorious for their violence in war; beheading their victims and posting them on a stake outside their camps. She'd even heard that they would bleed their victims and then bathe in the blood. They would throw human remains to the pet wolves that they tamed and kept like pets. "I suppose I must marry your son, then," she murmured in defeat.
"It is the only option for you." Black said.
Emina tugged her away from the Elders and out back into the open. People were crowded around the tent, looking startled when Emina emerged from the tent with her. The cold hit her like a punch to the mouth and Bella recoiled instantly from it. Men, women, and children stared at her like she was a vile demon that crawled up through a crack in the earth.
Bella felt like she wanted to cry.
"U ho sheba?" Emina hissed at them all. Some of the people looked away, but most still continued to stare in defiance. "Na ha efe kapa efe ya u ithutileng sona mosa?" (What are you looking at? Haven't any of you learned kindness?)
One man, with hellfire in his eyes, stepped forward. "Re lokela ho ba bolaile hae! O ile a ho letho le empa e le kotsi." Others joined in. "Mosa oa hae feela leha e le neng a re tlisetsa lefu le bohloko." (We should have killed her! She is only a threat. Her kind only brought us death and pain.)
Bella looked at Emina in confusion. She shook her head. "They are cruel because they do not know any better."
"I understand," Bella whispered. "I am a foreigner. I have heard the tales of war between our people."
"No matter," Emina said aprubtly. "We have wedding to prepare for."
0o0o0o0o
"What are these?" Bella asked, sniffing the strange substance in the cup. It was clear like water but did not have the same smell or consistency. She wrinkled her nose.
"Special oils can make men burn all night long," Emina told her and dumped some of the oil onto Bella's skin. She had been stripped from her cozy furs and put into an loose fitting cotton shift. Emina rubbed the oils into her skin and Bella instantly recognized the scent of jasmine and mint.
"Burn all night long?" Bella questioned naively, her brows furrowed in confusion. Emina raised her eyebrows and gestured towards Bella's attire. "Oh," she whispered in understanding and went beet red in the face. "He will take me then..."
"What did you expect? For him to just lie there beside you?" Emina chuckled, tugging down the front of Bella's dress and exposing her. Bella squawked and batted the woman away but Emina pushed her back against the bed. "Tradition," she said firmly.
Bella laid back against the bed with her arms stretched at her side and let Emina strip the dress off of her body. She'd never been fully naked and exposed like this in front of a woman that was not her servant before. She saw the bruises littered over Bella's body but said nothing of them.
Emina took the honey cream jar and Bella watched as she painted lines down her stomach and breasts. "What is this tradition?" she asked as dabs of honey cream were rubbed into the inside of her thighs. She felt sticky and uncomfortable as Emina rubbed it in on her breasts. She turned over when instructed and let Emina apply the honey to her lower back and bottom.
"The marriage is very important to the Quileute people," said Emina. "It is the sacred joining of man and woman, the most precious union of love. The marriage night, however, is for the lust of man and woman. These honey cream markings helped to guide the man to the woman's spots of pleasure. In our culture, the man will always please the woman first. The man will take his time on the woman and kiss her in the intimate places to taste the honey. It makes the wedding night better, as most would agree."
Bella's heart sped up at the thought of consummation...again. Her first time was anything but perfect and the bruises and scars on her skin served to prove that. "How do I please him?" she asked Emina. She knew not the customs of the wildmen in bed and hoped her only friend could tell her something.
"With lips and touch," Emina replied softly. "You are a beautiful woman and he will like what he sees. Do not worry, Bella."
She slipped her cotton shift back on and felt the fabric stick to her skin. "What is he like? The man I am to marry," Bella murmured. "Is he kind? Brave? Handsome?"
Emina smiled at this. "Some women in La Push claim they would leave their husbands for a night with him in bed. Last winter, he brought home most of La Push's food from his hunts. He always is triumphant when the hunting party goes out. And brave? They say he strangled a wolf with his bare hands."
Bella watched as Emina took the pots and small jars and put them back on their proper shelves. He must be very strong if he killed a wolf with only his hands, she toiled in her thoughts. She shivered because she remembered that her late husband was also strong and his fists served to hurt her.
Emina kneeled behind her on the bed and took all of Bella's long, chestnut hair into her hands. She began to weave it into an extravagant braid, twisting in feathers with it. Then she placed a crown made of vines and one tall red feather onto her head. "All done," she whispered.
Bella looked at herself in the shard of glass Emina gave her to serve as a mirror. "It is very beautiful," she complimented. "I look like a princess."
Emina checked outside before nodding her head. It was time to go. "Carry yourself with the same confidence of a princess wherever you go," she told Bella. "Despite of what the people might say or do, you are going to be his wife."
"And who is he, if I might ask?" She knew that he was Elder Black's son, but that was all. Bella pleaded with Emina to tell her, but the woman pushed her out of the tent before she could receive an answer. She was met with the freezing cold and bitter wind and the harsh stares of the wildmen. One gust from the northern wind threatened to cripple her to her knees, bare feet already beginning to numb in the crystal white snow.
Some people held torches of fire, leading the way to the Elders' tent. There was the steady sound of the drum echoing in tune with the hum of the wind. And as she walked through the snow towards the tent, the women whispered their obvious disapproval with jealousy in their eyes. The men gave her hard stares, markings painting on the sides of their faces. The mark of the wild.
Once she got to the Elder tent, she lifted the flap and stepped inside to the warmth, her feet thawing out from the cold. Her heart hammered in her chest as she saw him kneeling on the carpet already, in front of his father, Elder Black. Even from behind he was a sight to see. He was ridiculously tall, with tribal markings etched into the skin on his bulging biceps. His jet black hair was cropped at his shoulders and there was the same bright red feather braided into part of it, just like hers.
And he certainly must have been colder than she because all he wore was a deerskin breechcloth. His legs were long, copper and muscular and the same could be said for his backside. Taking a deep breath, she approached him slowly, falling to her knees at the rug. He did not look at her, even though she stole glances of him through her peripherals. His jaw structure was rigid and symmetrical, making him look strong and noble. His nose was perfectly sloped and slightly flat at the end, which distincted him from the men back in Forks. His lips were full and russet colored, and already she was longing to feel those lips on her skin.
It was a strange feeling to Bella, because she dreaded anything having to do with engaging in sexual acts with a man. It was a nightmare when her husband took her in their marital bed. He would thrust and grunt and beat and from those harsh, thin lips of his would come insults aplenty.
But she was attracted to the man kneeling next to her, the man that was to take that old beast's place, and she hadn't felt such burning desire in years.
Elder Black said strange words in their language and began to burn some herbs in a small wooden bowl. The smoke came off as a dark black and he waved it into their faces. She breathed it in and coughed a little, causing some amusement from the rest of the elders watching.
Then abruptly the red feather was plucked from her head and then his as well and burned in the bowl. "Nka letsohong la hae," Black said. And he looked expectantly at Bella. Her eyes widened. Was she supposed to do something? "Hold his hand."
Before she could move to hold his hand, he grabbed onto hers roughly and squeezed it tight. She tried not to yelp with the pain. "Hona joale ke nehelana ka o e le monna le mosali. I now present you as man and wife." Black said, pouring the ashes of the burnt herbs and feathers onto their joined hands. She winced as they singed her flesh, but dared not make a sound for fear of offending them.
He stood almost immediately after, tugging her up with him. He didn't even bother to look at her as he guided her back out into the cold. She ran to keep up with him in the snow, for his legs were long and his strides were longer. She came to a big tent, one that was much larger than the ones in the middle of La Push where she had stayed. It was most likely his tent; she thought that because he was the son of an Elder, he was prominent in wildmen society. People watched as they entered the tent quickly.
He let go of her hand as soon as they were inside the tent. Bella took a moment to look around, and found that it was most beautiful inside. There were paintings on the wall as well as a large circular bed in the middle of the tent that was covered in black bear fur and large cotton pillows, also covered in black bear fur. There was a roaring fire on one side and candles were lit on the tables beside the bed. And in the far end of the tent there was a large wooden bath filled with steaming hot water.
He, yet again, faced away from her, as if he was afraid to look at her. He ran a hand through his dark black hair and tugged at the roots roughly. He moved towards the side of the room and he stumbled over a clay pot. Cursing in Quileute, he kicked the pot and sent it sailing halfway across the room. She jumped as it shattered into tiny pieces with a loud 'clang.'
Emina told her not to worry, but she was worrying. She sat on the other edge of the bed, daring not to speak a single word or move.
She felt the bed shift beneath her and his presence near her. He was muttering things in his language that she couldn't understand. He was going to take her and he was going to strike her and hurt her like her late husband had always done. She began to panic, sweat forming on her cheeks and her heart pounding against her chest. A panic attack, as the doctors had called it. Bella began breathing heavily, her shoulders heaving up and down. She clutched at her arms and dug her nails into the skin. Tears blurred her vision, though she tried to push them back.
No. I can't do this.
Her new husband went silent then, moving the rest of the way across the large bed towards her slowly. And she cried, even though she tried to fight it, because all she could picture was her late husband coming to hurt her yet again. She felt the back of her dress being torn away and she sobbed into her hands, shaking with fright. But he didn't move to touch her again. "Please don't," she whimpered. "Please don't hurt me."
His hot fingertips touched the bruises on her back gently and she flinched, shutting her eyes tightly. He pushed the dress down her shoulders and bared her from the waist down. She cried out in shock and her hands went to cover herself immediately. He shifted on the bed and skirted his hands down her arms, pressing his chest up against her back. He was so warm on this cold, cold night and she relished in the feeling of his warmth against her chilled skin. "Who...who did to you?" he asked her, his accent heavy and thick. She could tell he didn't speak English often but his voice was warm and genuine, like he truly cared.
And she was surprised that he even cared at all. She'd heard the stories of ladies that were unfortunate enough to become prisoners during the war five years ago called the Massacre of Therelis. They were rough lovers and often left bruises, quite like her husband. People had called them savages on many accounts, but she'd not been one to dirty the name of the wildman. She didn't know them, and she refused to judge them off of other peoples' opinions. She'd learned the hardway and was left disappointed more than once. He must think he's got the worst luck ever, she thought to herself. Having to marry one of his peoples' worst enemies.
"My husband..." she finally told him. "Or he was my husband."
He breathed out and moved closer towards her, his hands rubbing her sides soothingly. "Do men beat 'dere women back in Forks?" he asked softly.
She swallowed thickly and let the tears come freely rolling down her cheeks. "It is not...uncommon...to see a wife with bruises, no." She sniffled, clutching one of her arms over her chest while the other wiped at her nose. He let her go from his embrace and slid off the bed to kneel in front of her on his fur carpet.
That would be the first time she ever saw her husband, and the first time he, his wife.
And she thought he was the most beautiful man she'd ever seen. His eyes were a soft chocolate instead of the normal black that she'd seen on most of the wildmen. And his nose was perfectly sculpted, with high cheekbones and full lips. His chin had a cleft that made him look like the vision of youth. His torso was rippled with muscle and there was a black pawprint of a bear on his chest. Her mouth almost watered; he was so beautiful.
His jaw dropped slightly at first, but he picked it back up and regained himself. "No cry," he said, wiping the tears from her cheeks. He struggled to form the words on his tongue with his heavy accent. "I...I will not hurt you."
She was still trembling when he said it, but her heart warmed from his words almost immediately. She instantly felt a feeling of safety and security with him. The tears still rumbled down her cheeks and she wiped them away, looking away in shame. She was still heavily breathing and gasping for breath, as it seemed, but he placed his warm hands on her shoulders and sighed.
"Do not be afraid," he told her. He sat back into the middle of the bed and placed his hand over his heart. "Ke 'na Jacob." And he bowed to her.
She felt respected in that moment. She now knew his name and that was a small comfort to her. Her eyes sparkled and she placed her hand over her heart, mimicking his words. "Ke 'na Isabella." And she bowed her head to him as well.
"Very good," he said with a lopsided smile. "We will have you speaking our language in no time." Tears were still wet on her face, her panic attack starting to subside finally. "No more cry," he told her, leaning forward and wiping her cheeks dry. He rubbed his hands over her arms, which she crossed over her chest to try to harbor modesty. He attempted to pry her hands away from her shoulders.
She pulled away from in shock and fright. Her face reddened when he forced her hands to her sides and frowned at her. "Do not hide from me," he told her gently. She closed her eyes in embarassment but did not protest. He saw the bruises on her collarbone and down her arms. There was even a tinge of purple on her jaw. He gritted his teeth and shook his head. "Why did he beat you?" he questioned angrily.
"I can't ever remember a true reason," she responded softly, rubbing her hands up and down her arms. There was a draft in the room and gooseflesh began to cover her skin. He placed a tentative hand on her thigh and watched as she flinched and gasped loudly. "Please don't hurt me." She was shaking uncontrollably.
"Gods above, woman," Jacob sighed and shook his head. "I will not harm you. I will never gain pleasure from the tears on your face." She tried to close her eyes to shut out the painful memories but she wasn't yet strong enough to do so. Another tear fell down her cheek. "Your husband...he used to beat you when you made love?"
"He never made love to me," she hissed, wiping at her eyes. "He was purely incapable of love itself."
He cocked his head to the side. "So then you have never enjoyed it?"
"The enjoyment belongs the man alone," she replied sullenly.
"You are mistaken, Bella," he told her softly, running his hands up her thighs and leaning closer to her. He looked into her bright hazel eyes, eyes that held hesitance and fright. "And I will show you...if you let me."
She sighed. After all the wrong her late husband had done to her, she never wanted to lay with a man again. The thought of it made her so upset that she felt, sometimes, like she would expel the contents of her stomach. She had thought about taking the cloth, but she hadn't enough time. There was no safety in that kingdom for her anymore. Not even in a convent.
But the look of genuine concern in Jacob's eyes warmed her heart even more. She heaved a deep breath and then nodded her head, inviting him to come into her arms. He embraced her, holding her against his hot and muscular body. He soothingly stroked a hand down her hair, whispering soft words in Quileute to her. She relaxed against his body and tried to calm herself down. His voice was so soothing-she mused to herself that she could have fallen asleep to the sound of it.
Once her breathing finally slowed down, he turned his eyes down to gaze upon her. She looked up at him for a fleeting second, but then quickly looked away in embarrassment. He pressed a kiss to her forehead before hooking a finger under her chin and lifting her face to his. She let him kiss her lips softly, she let him taste her.
And then she decided to taste him as well.
And the feeling she gained from the taste of his lips was dizzying. He stroked a hand down her neck and neared her chest. He looked her in the eye, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. He stalled and waited for her to give the signal.
She gave it.
He began by cupping her left breast in his hand, squeezing it softly. He saw the honey cream making her skin glisten and instantly became hungry for it. And she let him kiss and tongue her breasts, lapping the honey off her skin like it was some kind of foreign delicacy. Emina wasn't wrong.
She propped herself up on her arms, watching him in awe as he made sure to taste every inch of her torso, paying special attention to the places that made her sigh in delight. She was very surprised with herself, how calm she felt, how comfortable he made her feel. This, she could deal with.
But then he grabbed her waist a little harder and she whimpered because it made her think of him and how he was always so rough and mean to her. Jacob noticed this and stopped what he was doing. He kissed her lips and ran his fingers through her soft brown hair. "I forbid you to think of him from this point forth. I am your husband now," he told her sternly. "My touch...my touch is good. Always is good, makes you feel pleasure."
Jacob urged the shift off of her and she sat naked in front of him, naked as the day she was born. This was new; hehad always made her wear a nightdress when he was fucking her. It was the custom in Forks for the woman not to be fully naked in the marital bed. She watched him groan softly before placing hot, open-mouthed kisses to her breasts. He sucked her nipple into his mouth and she bit her lip. Wow, that felt good.
He had never done that for her before. It was always right to business, the old in-and-out, his way, and nothing else.
Jacob kissed and licked at her breasts, holding them in his hands and gently kneading them. He followed the honey cream trail down the flat plane of her stomach until he reached the apex of her thighs. She clenched her thighs shut nervously, not wanting him to venture forth into her womanhood. Whenever her late husband had, she'd always felt a brutal pain and that pain carried on long into the next day.
But he begged her with his sweet eyes to trust him, stroking her thighs with his hands softly. And she noticed that unlike his hands, Jacob's were soft, and she welcomed that softness eagerly. Bella reluctantly let him spread her legs, her heart pounding. She began to breathe heavy again, feeling nervous and fearful. "I will never hurt you," he assured her. "Pain will never come when you lay with me. I want you to feel me, Bella. I want you to feel the pleasure that I can bring you."
She gave him a slow nod, unsure of herself even. He slowly ducked his head down and lapped cream off of the insides of her soft thighs, teasing her with his clever tongue. And she watched him with curiosity as he inhaled her scent with his lips lingering centimeters away from the petals of her womanhood. What in God's name was he doing? Before she could question his actions, he dove into her. Her jaw dropped instantly and her eyes widened. He tongued her there, lips closing around the little bud above her entrance.
She squeezed the furs around her as he licked at her with a vigor that made her feel dizzy and lethargic. And when he moaned, it sent vibrations all throughout her southern region. She fell back against the bed, her hair covering her face and loud moans falling from her lips. She'd never felt something quite so exotic or amazing. She'd never moaned so loud.
He had only fucked her. He had never kissed her like this, or touched her in such a way down there.
Jacob grabbed her thighs in his hands and wrapped her legs around his head, pressing down a little harder on her sweet spot with his lips. She gasped loudly, cradling his head in her hands and tugging at his hair with her fingers. She didn't know what to make of the strange feeling that was bubbling up inside of her. She didn't know what it was, but it felt so good. She never wanted him to stop.
Jacob forced his tongue against her, licking at her furiously. He made jelly of her with the way he kissed her womanhood so passionately. She shuddered and arched her back into him as something powerful washed over, making her vision starry and her muscles to convulse around his tongue. He lapped up every drop that came from her body and smacked one kiss to her thigh before sitting back, pleased with himself.
And she looked at him through her hooded eyelids. He smiled, his lips glistening with her juices. It was the most erotic thing she'd ever seen in her entire life. She leaned her head back and rubbed her hands over her face with a moan. "What was that...that feeling?" she asked him.
He furrowed his brows together. "You never...?"
She shook her head and turned red in the cheeks. "I suppose he was never very good at it."
Jacob laughed and sat back on his haunches. And she turned even redder when she saw his tall, erect member standing tall against his stomach. "That is s'posed to be the outcome of lovemaking," he explained to her with a chuckle. "For both man and woman."
"I have much to learn," she whispered to herself.
"And I have much to teach," he responded. She blushed bright red, not realizing that he had heard her. She opened her legs and layed back against the furs, inviting him to come and have his way with her. After all, it was the duty of a wife to do so, especially after her new husband pleased her so well. He did crawl through her legs, but not to fuck her. He picked her up into his arms and placed her on the pillows gently. "Sleep," he said.
"You do not want to fuck me?" she asked him, feeling most confused.
"I do not fuck," he made a face, like the word was pure poison. "I make love only. And while I would love to have my way with your beautiful body, which entices me so, tonight will be for your pleasure and yours alone."
He covered her with the heavy fur blankets and settled down next to her, blowing out the candles on the endtable. Outside, the wind screamed and the walls of the tent shook violently. She looked over at him in the dark, but he was already looking at her. "Your kindness is like a gift I do not deserve," she whispered. "I know why your people hate me, and they have the utmost right to. I know the war everyone speaks of...where the blood of the deceased turned the Astian River red...and your lands were burnt and barren as far as the eye could see. But I feel for you, Jacob. I despise the Forksians...perhaps even more than you do."
"Truly impossible," he chuckled humorlessly. "My hatred for the Forksians runs deeper than the oceans. They killed everyone I cared for."
Tears bubbled at her eyes. "I'm so sorry."
"You are the only exception," he told her with a gentle smile. He squeezed her hand underneath the covers. "It is not your fault. I will not hold you responsible for something that was not your doing-you are merely from the kingdom." Then he laughed. "It is not like you were a general, commanding the armies."
She closed her eyes and nestled against the pillow, trying to push away the bad memories. He didn't know. He didn't know anything. She sighed, feeling the bad memories starting to resurface. In an effort to push them away, she turned to him quickly. "Do men here kiss their ladies down there often?" she questioned rather bluntly, willing to change the topic.
"Yes," he replied rather proudly, turning to his back and staring up at the ceiling. "Not in Forks?"
"Not in Forks, no," she responded.
"Forks is not as good in lovemaking, then. Another win of the wild, it seems," he said plainly.
She laughed, actually laughed, and settled back against the pillows. "I suppose you're right, then. It's virtually unheard of in the kingdom. Does the taste...not repulse you?"
"No, never. It tastes good," he told her with a sly smile. "Very good." Her face flushed and she could feel the heat in the pit of her stomach bubbling up. He rolled over onto his side and threw an arm over, pulling her back against his stomach. He cuddled into her and sighed.
Bella was astounded. Her late husband had never wanted to embrace. He hated the very idea of it. But here was Jacob, holding her in his arms without shame and falling asleep with his nose in her hair. She snuggled back against him, thankful for the added warmth. It was a very cold night, after all.
Sometimes, it took her years for her to trust people.
But in this case, it only took a night to convince her of him.
0o0o0o0o
End Note: Thanks for reading! Tell me if you enjoyed it and leave a review if you would like me to continue this. I'm a little unsure of this one, but if enough of you feel strongly about it, I'll continue for you all. I have a plot and everything in mind. Again, thank you.
Courtney xx