AN: This story is still very much up for adoption but to thank everyone who has either replied or put this on their story alert list I wrote this little drabble, I think it also shows just where this story could go and hope it inspires some one to please adopt this poor story!
Lots of Love,
So Unseelie
His eyes held me captive, burning into me like hot, molten gold. His hands held my wrists firmly at my side, their icy touch a contrast to the searing heat of my body. I felt so flimsy, so fragile, so human. My heavy breathing filled the space between our bodies and that damned grin graced his face as the rough fabric of his jeans brushed against my bare body. I couldn't reign in the moan that slipped out as my nipples tightened and my body responded. He slipped his knee between my legs and I unabashedly began grinding on it needing the friction desperately.
"That's it Isabella, show me what you want Darlin'." His hands slid up my arms, leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake, up along my shoulders and slowly caressing my neck. My hands tangled in the fabric of his shirt and I pulled him closer, needing to feel all of him. He leaned his head down and I could feel the chill his lips were so close, ghosting over mine. My entire body froze in anticipation, my hunger pushing me to act first, daring me to give in to the rampant lust controlling my body. I whimpered as the seconds dragged by and still his grin held, the naughty look in his eyes challenging me to make the first move. I knew I couldn't though, he was in control, he called the shots, his need to reign supreme over my body both thrilled and terrified me and in this second I knew that if I didn't stay perfectly still it might mean my life.
Finally his lips pressed against mine, electrocuting my senses and urging me to do something! My hands freed themselves from his shirt only to weave into his hair, all without my permission. His hands were also busy, as his tongue licked my lips and silently demanded entrance to my mouth, his talented fingers were teasing my nipples slowly circling only to draw back just when they got close. I whimpered at his torture and he quickly flicked my nipple once, hard, admonishing me for being insubordinate before his fingers danced their way down my stomach and around to firmly grip my ass.
I sucked in a much needed breath of air as his tongue finished it's pillage of my mouth and his silky voice filled the space between us, "Isabella do I make you feel good?"
My body was still on fire and my breathing still ragged, I nodded my head emphatically, "Yes."
The sharp sting and resounding clap clued me in to what had happened a second afterwards. Across my right ass cheek was probably a perfect red handprint. "Yes what?" He growled, his eyes darkening.
"Yes sir!" I responded quickly eager to please him and avoid further punishment.
"You're damn right yes sir." His lips relentlessly attacked mine again and his fingers slipped back around, finally heading towards where I wanted them most. His index finger gently slipped through my folds and back up again, circling my clit and then back down. I wanted him so badly it hurt.
His lips relieved my mouth, slowly attacking the column of my throat. The strangled cry that came out half breathless and way needier than I ever imagined myself being echoed loud in my ears. "Please Jasper, please."
"Bella! Get your ass out of bed right this god damned minute and tell me where the fuck my tooth brush is!" My eyes snapped open and a sun-filled room greeted my poor senses. The clock on the nightstand read nine thirty-two and across the room Sara's bed was already made. I took a deep breath and tried to calm my heart rate down. My body was slick with sweat and my feet tangled in the sheets, images from my dream still danced behind my eyes.
"Bella!" Christian's screech had me tumbling out of bed and darting into the adjacent bathroom where he stood in front of a steaming mirror in nothing but a towel.
"Put some damn clothes on Chris. What the fuck do you want?" I grumbled yanking my sheet tighter and making sure the end wasn't within tripping distance of my feet.
He glared down at me, all six foot six of him. "I want to know where my damn tooth brush is, I can't find shit in this girly mess!" He gestured wildly to the counter top where mascara, hairbrushes, eye shadow, face cream, acne cream, and other various girl shit was scattered. I just yanked open the medicine cabinet and snatched the spiderman tooth brush off the tiny shelf.
"It's right, fucking here! Don't get your panties in a twist because you're too lazy to actually look for shit." I snapped before spinning around and marching back to my room and plopping face first onto the bed.
Why the fuck was I having naughty dreams about Jasper Hale/ Cullen/ Whitlock/ what ever his name was?
And why did I like it so much?