Chapter 4: The Forest

AN: Thanks for all the reviews! Please heed the warnings…each kinky chapter has a different kink, and not all will appeal to everyone. Also please understand that despite all the talk of secrets…the only real secrets in this story are the ones Carlisle and Edward are keeping from themselves…

Carlisle/Jasper/Emmett; poly slash, blood kink, vampy/instinct/dominance sex

Carlisle examined his face in the small mirror hanging on the wall over the washing basin. He was clean and dressed, but there were circles under his eyes, and they were dark. How long had he looked like this? When had he last hunted? He thought back…nearly four weeks. He'd gone longer, but it was not a good idea.

There was a gentle rap on the door.

"Come."

Jasper poked his head in.

"Oh, good. You're not wound nearly so tight as you've been," he said, leaning against the doorframe casually and putting his hand in the pocket of his jeans.

Carlisle chuckled, patting his face dry with a towel. "Have I been making you crazy?"

"Just a tad, but I'm not worried now," Jasper said, eyes shining. He looked Carlisle over openly, appraisingly. "You look better, other than needing some blood and maybe a run… you probably need to loosen up those muscles a bit. Ready for some manly hunting time?"

"The girls aren't coming?" Carlisle asked.

"They're all still recovering, I think," he answered with a mischievous wink. Then he laughed. "Embarrassment? Really, Carlisle? Because Emmett thinks you're a god right now…"

Carlisle shook his head, amused and a bit pleased. In many ways, Jasper was his second in command, and able to tease him where others wouldn't really dare. Edward was his oldest, closest friend, the man he leaned on emotionally, and Esme was his mate, but Jasper was the one he strategized with regarding family safety. He was the only male who had ever seriously challenged his leadership, though that was long ago. Jasper would make a good coven leader, if he wanted to be one. But once he'd accepted Carlisle's leadership, he'd accepted it fully, and he seemed happy in his support role. If Jasper had been worried about his mental state, Carlisle realized it must have been serious.

"Sure, let's hunt." Carlisle walked past Jasper and then paused outside the door, realizing he had no idea where he was in the house, or how to get out.

"This way," Jasper said, clasping him firmly on the shoulders before heading past him to the left. They came to the end of a hall, went down a flight of stairs, and to what was clearly a back door. Emmett was waiting for them on a large porch, bouncing up onto his toes, clearly excited.

"This is going to be great! No girls making us mind our manners, and now Track Star isn't coming, so I think we should race," he said gleefully.

"Edward's not coming?" Carlisle asked, feeling oddly hurt that his best friend wasn't joining them.

"He said he'd catch up with us soon… he has something to do first," Jasper said apologetically.

"More like someone to do," Emmett said, wagging his eyebrows and grinning.

Oh. Oh. Of course. Edward was willing to have Carlisle and Bella be involved occasionally, but he'd still want to reclaim his mate after such an intimate encounter. That was understandable.

"He'll catch up," Carlisle said, nodding. "So where are we off to? Have either of you scouted the area?"

Jasper pointed to an outcrop at the top of the ridge, about 10 miles away. "There's a riparian area on the other side of that ridge… the elk are often grazing along there in the afternoon. If Emmett wants to race, we could make that outcrop the finish, and then go down the other side more quietly for the hunt."

A race without Edward was appealing. Edward was built for running: tall and lean. Even before his change he'd been fast. In high school, before he'd succumbed to the flu, he'd won several blue ribbons in track and field. He still had them somewhere: part of the memorabilia from his life they'd collected shortly after his change, before the family home came off quarantine and Edward's inheritance could be muddled by lawyers. None of the family stood a chance against him in a straight race. Without him, the field was wide open.

"Of course, Carlisle might be too tired, with all the exercise he's been getting," Emmett said, baiting his patriarch.

Carlisle growled a soft warning, and Jasper rolled his eyes at Emmett. Carlisle sensed a wave of amusement rolling off him, and glared.

"Don't look at me," Jasper said, "I'm not the idiot that thinks he can beat you just because you've been fucked senseless… literally… within the last 24 hours, and then had dessert." He shook his head at Emmett, who wagged his eyebrows again. Jasper gave Carlisle a sidelong glance. "Of course, if you'd like to prove you've still got game…"

Carlisle snorted. They were baiting him, and Carlisle knew it was in jest, that they weren't actually challenging him. Jasper accepted his dominance, and Emmett had always been completely loyal, if a bit unconventional in showing his respect. But despite knowing that it was all in fun, his testosterone was surging, and adrenaline was beginning to grip his mind. And it felt great.

"The outcrop?" Carlisle confirmed. Emmett had a gleam of victory is his eyes. "Watch yourselves, boys," Carlisle warned, and then gave Emmett a small wink. Emmett's face dropped, his expression confused as Carlisle whizzed by him. He could hear Jasper's laughter erupt as he lengthened his stride.

In moments, of course, they had caught up, more or less, and he caught glimpses of them weaving through the trees on either side of him. It was exhilarating, and he realized he hadn't just really let loose in ages.

Edward had been the first to teach him to enjoy this part of being a vampire. Before that, he'd tried to deny every part of his nature. In his first months, Edward had hated what he'd become, what Carlisle had made him, except when he ran. Running gave him joy, and that gave Carlisle joy, and together they had learned how to embrace just this part of the beast: the part that was playfully competitive with other, friendly males.

Later he'd learned to embrace other parts of the beast: things he'd witnessed in Volterra but didn't understand at the time. When male vampires lived together, establishing dominance was the only real way to maintain peace. When it had been just he and Edward, it hadn't been necessary. Edward had been so new to this life; he'd basically accepted Carlisle's leadership. And when there are only two, it's easier to rule by consensus, even with a moody seventeen-year-old. But as other males joined, establishing dominance became more necessary. The instincts were all there to be tapped into: the need to race, wrestle, pin, top. The more numerous the males, the stronger the drive.

Jasper fell behind, having inadvertently chosen a route that held more obstacles. Carlisle and Emmett wove through trees, neck and neck. It was beautiful: they were graceful, swift creatures, all muscle and energy and striving. Carlisle loved running like this. Then Emmett touched his hip, and entirely different instincts rose to the surface. In a flash, he turned and pounced on Emmett, pinning him to the ground and snarling. Then Jasper whipped past them.

"Fuck," Carlisle muttered under his breath, scrambling to take off after Jasper, who was laughing at his luck that the other two had distracted each other. In moments Carlisle was right behind him, reaching with both hands, striving forward, hooking his fingers around Jasper's narrow hips and heaving him to the right, only losing a few strides in the process.

And now they were all legs and hands and hips, racing, reaching for each other, pulling each other back, breaking away, laughing, snarling, pouncing. The outcrop was all but forgotten as they frolicked like young stallions, showing off strength and agility. All three were growing hard with the exertion and the allure of this wholly masculine dance. There was a line they crossed when they were like this. They ceased being men: civilized, cultured and well rounded. They became males, singular in their needs and desires. Musk filled the air, and Carlisle could distinguish between them by their scents and the rhythm of their movements: Emmett the stronger but more lumbering one, Jasper the smaller but fiercer competitor. All three of them were breathing hard as they raced and dodged, grasping for each other and twisting away, laughing and snarling.

Abruptly, all three heads snapped to the north at once, noses in the air. Prey.

They crouched in unison, and the mood had shifted from playful antics to serious hunting in seconds. They eyed each other, and all instincts were now trained on the prey. They didn't hunt in packs, but they coordinated their stalking. The others were looking to Carlisle to direct them, and he felt the rush of leadership: blood was on the air, and lust and testosterone flowed through his veins. It was not uncommon, when hunting, but it was usually stifled when the girls were around. Today, however, they weren't.

Carlisle adjusted himself without apology, and whispered instructions to the others: who would take the right and left flank of the herd, and who would drive down the center. They crept down the hill toward the herd, positioning themselves for the attack. Then Carlisle pounced, and the herd scattered.

He drank his first amidst the thundering hooves, taking long draws as he watched Jasper leap on a galloping doe and take it down. He was grace, power, masculinity: narrow hips and broad shoulders. Carlisle groaned as he watched Jasper's teeth slice through the neck. The sweet scent of fresh blood wafted on the air, and he thrust absently as he watched Jasper convulse at the taste. The expression on Jasper's face was ecstatic, and Carlisle felt his own lust surge. Hot, sweet blood continued to rush past his tongue as their eyes locked, and time slowed. Carlisle had lived through this moment in other hunts, where the lines between lust and bloodlust became blurred. He'd always stifled it. But he'd grown accustomed to allowing his fantasies free reign this weekend, and he did not try to hide the lust he felt as he admired Jasper's form and was intoxicated by the scent and taste of blood. Jasper's eyes rolled back, whether from the wave of lust he felt from Carlisle or the blood flowing down his throat, Carlisle couldn't be sure. But when Jasper's eyes reopened, they bore straight into Carlisle's. Jasper's sinewy muscles rippled as he adjusted his grip on the elk. He was strong and slight and well proportioned. A warrior: beautiful in his maleness. Abruptly, Carlisle's elk was dry, and he broke eye contact, pulling out of his haze enough to go after another prey.

He sped after the herd, striving, aching, needing blood, needing…

He pounced, and landed on a large buck, wresting its antlers to the right and bringing it down forcefully. It was so vital, pulsating and writhing under him as its fate was secured. Carlisle knelt, pulling the shoulder of the animal up onto his lap, where the warm, thrashing weight was a welcome burden against his throbbing cock. He lifted the head and sliced through the artery, groaning as the hot blood slid down his throat. His eyes closed as he savored the sensations.

He heard the cry of an elk being felled further down the valley — one of Emmett's kills — but the noise did not disturb him. He was pulled out of his feeding haze by the sound of thrashing much closer, and he opened his eyes to see Jasper with his arms wrapped around the antlers of a young buck, dragging it toward Carlisle. A growl rumbled in Carlisle's throat, a defensive reaction to another vampire approaching him as he drank. He quickly quelled the protective response. Jasper had his own buck; he wasn't going to try to steal Carlisle's kill. And the emotions pouring off Jasper included many things, but hostility wasn't among them. Still, Carlisle watched Jasper's approach warily. The younger man held his gaze, but with his head turned down just enough to show he was submissive. Was he offering his buck as a gift? Carlisle's buck went dry, and he tossed it aside as Jasper sat a mere two feet away, with his buck still twitching between them, touching both of them. Jasper held Carlisle's gaze, brought the neck of the elk up to his mouth and ripped it open.

Blood spurted across Carlisle's face and chest, and he stood abruptly, towering over Jasper's kneeling form, panting with surprise and tension. The smell of blood was thick on the air, and the heat of the drops splattered across his face seared his consciousness. But they held nowhere near the heat of Jasper's gaze, and Carlisle watched as his eyes grew impossibly darker. Jasper stood slowly, inching his face closer to Carlisle's, and then slowly licked up Carlisle's cheek from jaw to temple, cleaning the blood. They groaned in unison, and Carlisle closed his eyes, smelling the blood on Jasper's breath, the musk of his skin, and feeling the delicious slick heat of his tongue.

Carlisle felt blood-soaked hands stroke his jaw, slide to his collar, and slowly, sensually, tear his shirt open. Searing blood was painted on his neck and licked off as Carlisle stood rigid, his breathing labored, and red coloring the backs of his eyelids, the scent of blood and feeling of lust almost overwhelming him. His chest was painted hot and red, and licked clean. Then his hard abdomen was coated, Jasper carefully moving down his body, pushing Carlisle's limits infinitesimally each time he added blood.

Carlisle caught sight of Emmett standing by a fallen log fifteen feet away. He was half naked and stroking his cock as he watched Jasper licking Carlisle's belly. Emmett groaned softly, but seemed to know better than to come any closer. Carlisle closed his eyes again as hot, bloody fingers traced the line of hair extending from his belly button down to the edge of his pants, where they lingered. Toying licks dipped into his navel and moved lower. And every hot, wet swipe of blood, every cooler stroke of tongue brought Carlisle closer to the edge. Closer to demanding what he needed. And as the fingers trailed along the edge of his pants, teasing, asking permission, he just growled, "Do it."

His pants were gone; shreds of fabric floating to the forest floor. His cock, straining forward, was enveloped in hot slick fluid, and then pressure...

He looked down to see crimson smears on alabaster skin.

Oh fuck!

Jasper's blood-stained lips were sliding up and down Carlisle's shaft. His tongue was in constant motion, lapping up the blood he'd spread, even as his hands were reaching down to the wound to get more. Carlisle's cock was coated in hot blood, and then engulfed in cooler suction, over and over until Carlisle was sure he'd come. Jasper sucked hard on Carlisle's cock, moved his hot wet hand to cup Carlisle's sac. Carlisle growled a warning through his haze of pleasure. Jasper was treading a thin line between what Carlisle would enjoy, would allow, and what he wouldn't. Once more, Jasper coated both hands with blood and stroked Carlisle's cock and balls… and Carlisle was so close… so close. But this time when Jasper slid his mouth over Carlisle's cock, pushing the foreskin back with his lips and laving the sensitive tip with his tongue, he froze. For long seconds Jasper was rigid, and then he groaned around Carlisle's cock and gripped his hips tightly, moving against him with more force, thrusting into air, frenzied.

A growl ripped from Carlisle's throat, and his hand wrenched Jasper back by the scruff of his neck, pulled him off his cock and pushed him to the ground. He snarled for a moment as Jasper became very still, apparently recovering from whatever had possessed him.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, placating Carlisle. "It was just… I tasted you mixed with the blood, and the combination was too much."

"Jasper…" Carlisle growled. "Strip now."

Jasper wasn't inclined to argue; he was Carlisle's to command. It was a familiar thrill to exert his power, and Carlisle intended to see it through. Kneeling before Carlisle, naked and straining, Jasper looked up, silently asking to try again. Carlisle looked at him sternly, but closed his eyes in agreement. He felt the blood again, and Jasper's glorious mouth, but he was on edge, torn between the need to enjoy these sensations, and the need to exert his dominance. Jasper slowly pulled him back toward the precipice, and again Carlisle felt that he was close, when a twig snapped too close and his eyes flew open. Emmett was kneeling behind Jasper, reaching around him for the blood. Carlisle growled a warning, but Emmett was conciliatory.

"I'll prepare him for you," he said thickly, sliding two bloody fingers along the crack of Jasper's ass. Jasper arched, groaning around Carlisle's cock as a finger slid in. Carlisle watched Emmett's red fingers — first one, then two, and finally three — disappear into Jasper's ass. The anticipation was delicious. Jasper grew more excited, groaning and writhing, but maintaining careful control of his mouth around Carlisle.

Finally Emmett backed away, announcing that Jasper was ready. In a single motion, Jasper spun on his knees and Carlisle fell to his and they were aligned. Jasper was beautiful in his submission. It was long ago that any of them had truly challenged his dominance or leadership, but the instincts — to dominate, to placate — were still easily brought to the surface. Jasper pressed his own shoulders into the earth, ready, waiting. Carlisle let him wait, enjoying the little whimpers he made as Carlisle pressed against his opening without slipping in. Carlisle closed his eyes and curled his fingers around Jasper's hips as desire coiled around his spine. He pressed in slowly, savoring the squeeze as his cock pushed past the guardian muscle. And then he felt hot wet fingers at the top of his own crack…

Startled beyond reckoning, he'd thrown Emmett ten feet and against a tree before he even rationally understood what had happened. He was standing again, rigid and fucking hard and really getting annoyed with the interruptions. Jasper was still in position, ass in the air, head turned so his cheek and shoulder were pressed into the earth as he looked up at Carlisle sideways. He wouldn't take his frustration out on Jasper.

"YOU," he snarled at Emmett, "HERE!" He pointed at the space next to Jasper's hip. A shocked Emmett scrambled back to him, stepping into position, eyes averted.

"Hands on the backs of your thighs," Carlisle commanded. Emmett complied, leaning back so his cock jutted forward.

Carlisle dropped to his knees again, reached behind him, and coated his hands in the hot blood that continued to pool like a heated fount. He spread the blood on Emmett's cock, watching it twitch as venom appeared at the tip. It was time to see what Jasper was talking about. He coated both hands with blood again, this time stroking more on Emmett's cock with his right hand, while relubricating Jasper's ass with his left. Emmett whimpered as Carlisle stroked his cock, and Jasper sighed, arching more deeply. They were both ready.

Carlisle lined himself up with Jasper again. He was in no mood to toy with the man. They all needed this. Carlisle pushed in slowly as both he and Jasper groaned. He was so tight, and the blood made him even hotter than he would have felt otherwise. After a long, luxurious slide in, Carlisle was fully sheathed in Jasper's heat. He waited, and felt Jasper arch more fully. He gave an experimental roll of his hips and Jasper groaned.

He turned his attention to Emmett, smearing the blood up and down his shaft.

"Don't you fucking thrust at me, Emmett," Carlisle warned. Emmett shook his head, breathing heavily in anticipation. Carlisle wrapped his hand around the base of Emmett's cock, and slid his mouth over the tip.

The taste of the blood enhanced his senses. Everything felt better. Jasper's ass was slicker, tighter. He was harder, and so was Emmett, who was groaning, but not thrusting. Carlisle's thrusts were becoming harder, longer. And then he tasted Emmett's venom commingled with the blood, sweet with the tangy, cloying — these were the two flavors that drove vampires crazy, and for the first time, he was tasting them together. He groaned, sucking harder, and Carlisle's mind started spiraling downward as the tension at his spine spiraled upward. His thrusts grew frantic, almost brutal. His frenzy was building — the tastes, the smells of forest and men and blood, the sounds of slapping flesh and pants and groans. He was tensing, rising impossibly higher, and then hanging at the precipice for a long moment as his release became imminent. His rush out of himself was hard and violent as he cried out around Emmett's cock. A spray of white stars dazzled across his mind, and a scream echoed through the forest that he could only assume was his as he emptied himself into Jasper.

He recovered to find his head thrown back and his cock still sheathed deep in Jasper. Emmett was still in position next to him. Both men were trembling, but holding themselves very still. Carlisle pulled himself out and backed up against a tree, panting. He was sated; the others would sort themselves out.

He watched as they remained frozen in position for several seconds, as if making sure that he was really finished with them. Abruptly, they pounced on each other, grappling for position, exerting dominance. It was a toss up between these two. After a minute of wrestling, Jasper was sliding into Emmett's ass as Emmett stroked himself. Carlisle hand went to his own cock as he lazily watched the scene play out. They came together, howling into the dusky evening, and then fell onto the forest floor on their backs, legs and arms splayed, gasping for unneeded air.

Emmett recovered first. "We should do that all the time."

Jasper started laughing. "You weren't even under the influence of the blood and venom mixture. Christ, that's got to be what crack is like."

They all laughed, a feeling of camaraderie born of common, unusual experience warming between them, until Jasper threw a handful of leaves at Emmett in exasperation. "I can't believe you tried to mount Carlisle. What in hell were you thinking?" he asked with a laugh.

"That he'd like it," Emmett answered.

Jasper's eyes bugged and he laughed incredulously. "You thought he'd like it? And you've lived where exactly for the last seventy-odd years? You're lucky he didn't rip your arm off…"

"He liked it in the dungeon," Emmett insisted.

Carlisle found it amusing to watch them talk about him as if he weren't there. As if his sexuality wasn't well understood by both of them.

"He liked Esme touching his ass. And the girls. Completely different, Emmett."

Emmett had no response, apparently, other than to throw leaves back at Jasper.

"Besides, you remember what Esme told us in the dungeon…" Jasper continued.

That piqued Carlisle's orgasm-addled brain. "What did she tell you?" he asked.

Emmett turned his head to look at Carlisle sheepishly, but it was Jasper who answered.

"Esme gave us clear instructions not to touch you in the dungeon, not even your chains. We could just touch the girls, who in turn could touch you. Esme was afraid that if one of us touched you, it would pull you right out of your submissive mindset and something…well, something like this," he waved his hand, indicating what they'd just experienced, "would happen. Except with more chains being wrenched from rock. And that's not what she was going for."

Carlisle nodded thoughtfully, chuckling. "That's probably true. It would have pulled me out. It almost did, even when she touched me, but I could see all of you, and then I smelled the latex. Oh, Emmett, in case I wasn't clear earlier: don't touch my ass."

Emmett grinned. "Got it. My bad. Sorry about that, Carlisle."

"And I'm sorry I threw you. But I think Jasper may be right: you are lucky I didn't do worse. I wasn't in the most rational state when you decided to push my limits."

Emmett shrugged. "No one got hurt, and it all worked out well enough," he said, causing both Carlisle and Jasper to laugh again.

As the laughter died away, Carlisle sighed. Jasper must have sensed Carlisle's regret, for he was immediately sitting up and studying Carlisle's face. "What's wrong?"

Carlisle shook his head, smiling slightly.

"Please, what is it?"

"We wasted the animal."

Jasper grinned wickedly. "I'm pretty sure I drank three-quarter's of that elk's blood…albeit mostly off your cock. We didn't waste much."

"And regardless, it was completely worth it," Emmett added. "No guilt."

Carlisle chuckled, giving in. "No guilt," he agreed. "And it was an… exceptional experience."

"No need to make it an isolated incident," Emmett said, wagging his eyebrows. Saucy boy. "Can't do it now, though. Eddie's probably waiting.

"Where is Edward? I thought he was going to catch up with us."

"I'll show you," Jasper said, getting up and brushing off the leaves that were sticking to the dried blood. "Emmett can start cleaning up this terrible mess," he continued, kicking a piece of shredded clothing toward his brother, who caught it and threw it back wadded up like a snowball.

Jasper dodged the projectile and gave Carlisle a grin, nodding to the ridge. "We'll be heading this way."

They walked in companionable silence. Carlisle was thinking about how possessed he'd become. He hoped he hadn't hurt Jasper…

"Stop," Jasper said, laughing. "You should be completely blissed out and reveling in your dominance. Why am I getting all this doubt off you?"

Carlisle looked at him. "Did I hurt you?"

Jasper actually laughed. "No. You did not. I'm made of sterner stuff, Carlisle. I had fun. And I agree with Emmett: we should do that again sometime." He clapped Carlisle's shoulder, and pointed down the other side of the ridge with his other hand. "There's a stream that starts about 100 yards down the hill. Follow it, and you'll find Edward."

Carlisle nodded. "Thank you, Jasper. You took a risk approaching me the way you did, but I'm really glad you did."

Jasper smiled warmly. "We'll clean it up, and see you back at the house." He turned and walked away, and Carlisle walked in the opposite direction. Toward Edward.

AN: One chapter left, and per the prompt, "meaningful sex", not these fun romps we've been having. Any guesses as to what's going on with the boys (Carlisle and Edward, that is)?