Elle quietly snuck her way through the halls, and down the stairs of the Cullen's house, trembling from her nightmares, her eyes burning obscenely. It wasnt all that uncommon not since James. The damn scar was nearly four hundred years old, now.
Sighing, she crept outside and wandered to the edge of the property, where a thick patch of woods rested. She pressed her back against the trunk of a large tree and sunk down it slowly, sighing.
There really wasnt any purpose to her excursions during the night. She simply didnt enjoy dwelling on her nightmares, and the moon had always been a small source of peace and comfort for her, even when she had been merely a small newborn. That had always been because her father... "no, Carlisle is my father. Alistair is the man who raised me..." would take her out to watch the stars. He would tell her about the constellations, pointing them out, and always explained the stories, legends, and myths behind each last star. It had been a small thing, but an enjoyable one.
She looked up and tried to imagine real people, beyond the stars her twin, perhaps, watching over her but she couldnt do it.
Not because she hadnt been raised to believe in religion, rather she'd been taught one too many, but because she did not want to imagine herself up there, never dying, cursed forever to live with the nightmares and terrors that she daily endured. It was not a completely promising thought.
"You baffle me, Louiselle Cullen..." A gruff voice made her jump.
Startled and caught off guard, Elles head shot up to eye the man she had admired and, she might admit, lusted after now.
"Why is that?" She asked, playing coy.
He shrugged, and seated himself in the grass in front of her. "Ive never seen a creature quite so unaware of the things she deserves, and the way she deserves to be treated."
Confused, she asked, "Beg your pardon?"
Jake glanced up at the stars for a moment, as well, then turned back to face her. "Most girls run around thinking they're all that, and flirting..." he said quietly, studying her darkened, haunted turqoise eyes. "You, however..."
He didnt need to finish. She didnt need to be told that shed been a mess, that shed soiled countless parties and galas with her unenthused behavior. "I'm sorry," she ducked her head. "i havent intentionally attempted to ruin anyones excitement."
"I think you misunderstand, Elle," Jacob intoned gently, reaching forward to tilt her chin back upwards. Her blood thawed, and she could feel her body tremble slightly. "I merely meant that Id like to understand the way that you think. I want to know what it is, exactly, that keeps you from sleeping during the night. I want to know what brings you here every other night."
Shifting away from the tree, because the bark dug into her back, Elle muttered, "I wouldn't want to burden you with that, Jacob..." coldly.
"It isn't a burden," he insisted. "I want to know. Damn it, don't you know, you drive me mad! I need to know every last thing about you, simple or not!"
"No," she said, sharply this time. She closed her eyes as he flinched away, and reached a hand out to touch his forearm. "Ive no right to wallow."
"It wasn't you're fault," Jake soothed, eyeing her small fingers on his forearm with affection and tenderness, "You did nothing wrong. James RAPED you..."
She shrugged, "I brought it on myself."
"Are you insane?" he mumbled.
"No, I deserved it! You wouldn't understand." she shot back stubbornly.
"What could you have done," he said, searching her face as it twisted in pain. "You did nothing wrong. Elle, You cannot fault yourself for it; you did the best that you could, which was still above and beyond what would be expected from anyone, especially a girl."
"My best wasnt good enough," Elle snarled. She took a deep breath, and then chuckled humorlessly, darkly. "You know, Im rather tired and rather disgusted by everyones incessant need to praise my efforts for "a girl". Treat me as if Im still a child, if it suits you, or treat me as an adult with the capacity and intelligence of one, but Im sick of the inequality! I'm better, faster, and stronger than you, Jacob Black. And you know it."
"You certainly are a unique girl," Jake offered a small smile. A smile that made her heart go crazy, he could hear it.
Elles stomach performed an entire acrobatics routine, she was sure.
"I can assure you, Elle," he whispered huskily, reaching out gently to lift her hand from his arm, "that I unquestionably do not see you as a child, or anything less than me."
She tried to swallow. The deepness of his voice, the low timbre of it shook through her and settled roughly in her core. Shed been about to say something, presumably to tell him to go back to bed before she lost any semblance of control that she had had left in her, but he lifted her hand to his mouth and slowly, without ever once taking his sharp, clear brown eyes away from hers, kissed the pad of each finger, delicately, teasingly.
She closed her eyes, unable to deny that she wanted this erotic contact, but also incapable of vocalizing that she wanted more. He did it for her.
"Youre a very unique girl, indeed," he murmured softly against the palm of her hand. "One that I find myself aching terribly for. Lusting after, even..."
She loved the way that he spoke. Not just his voice, but his manners, and the old-fashioned way that he talked.
But, oh God, that was such an elegant way of saying that he wanted her.
His lips moved to a pulse point on her wrist, apparently needing no encouragement from her end, provided that she wasn't quite DIScouraging his actions.
His lips felt like fire against her skin, or perhaps her skin was the flame, and his lips the fuel. Shed never had a man take more than a moment or two in undressing her. She had never been wanted in this way, and with James there was no foreplay involved, let alone this incredible romance.
She felt, and greatly hoped, that this would not be the case with Jacob.
"Lay back, my sweet love," he encouraged softly, nearly stopping her heart in the process.
Elle quickly adhered to his request, unsure what she should be doing. He was kissing his way slowly up her arm, brushing his lips teasingly across her bare shoulders, while she pondered how to go about a slow, meaningful sexual encounter, opposed to the quick, emotionless one that had traumatized her previously.
His lips, oh his heavenly, yet oh so sinful lips, now brushed against her ear, and he spoke in one of the most erotic voices she had ever heard, or ever had hoped to hear. "I want to make love to you," he murmured. "I want to pleasure you. May I ask for your consent?"
Elle whimpered. It was all she could do to keep from screaming in thrill. She nearly didnt know what he was asking, so caught up was she on the romance in his words, and the prospect of him bringing her pleasure. Consent? He wanted, he thought he had to ask for her consent?
"Yes," she gasped, unable to articulate anything requiring more than one syllable.
His hands moved down her neck tauntingly, inching gently downward to skim her breasts just barely, soliciting a louder gasp from her parted lips. Shed never been so turned on. He was playing her body like Edward's piano, carefully, gently, masterfully, and yet with the same fragility.
"Oh, Jake," she murmured as his tongue drew soft patterns against her neck, "I want to feel you."
His hands, Jesus, those rough, giant hands took her softer, smaller ones and moved them to the hemline of his baggy nightshirt. "If you wish to feel me," he murmuredd into the nape of her neck, "you neednt ask my permission."
My dear God, that voice.
The moment her hands had touched his hot skin, he hissed. She rapidly pulled her fingers away, fearing that she'd hurt him.
"I've been without a woman's touch, my love. I am not in pain, but in the midst of pure and unequivocal bliss."
Motivated and intrinsically pleased by his lack of women, she moved her hands back to his stomach. His abs were hard, and his muscles all but shuddered under her greedy touch. Suddenly feeling a desperate desire to see him, his rough, tanned, masculine body, she tore at the bottom of the shirt and tugged it over his head.
He nipped at her neck roughly, and she moaned, hands flying to his long, black hair. His tongue quickly soothed the small wound, and he repeated the motions several times before his hands, which had previously been resting around her hips, snuck down her thighs and teasingly drove her nightgown upward, skimming his fingers and palms over the sides of her stomach, breasts, and shoulders as he slid the thin material from her body.
One hand cupped the back of her neck as his mouth crept up the line of her jaw, and finally, finally pressed against her lips.
A magical tension shrouded the air as his mouth caressed hers, she arching closely into him, not an inch between their hot skin, pleading, begging, and her tongue brushing his lips. Shed never been kissed, especially not like this, not this intimately. Shed never before felt so complete, so understood.
"Jake, please" she moaned against him, her nails creating dents in his shoulders as her hips rolled toward his still-clothed ones. Her body heated as his spare hand strolled toward her breast and dear, merciful Jesus so did his warm mouth, enveloping her nipple and eliciting a long, low moan.
A hand was suddenly on her thigh, and slithered upward until finally a deft digit slid into her, soon joined by another.
"Oh," she screamed, "yes. Yes."
She tried to create a rhythm against his hand, a quick rhythm which he did not approve of. "Oh no, my love. You certainly have not been treated as you deserve, neither in your life nor in your bed."
She wondered what that meant until - oh. Her eyes rolled back as his fingers rocked into her leisurely, taking his time and building her up. Her hips arched into his, and she let out a small gasp every time his fingers pushed deeper inside of her. "Oh my God," she breathed, an orgasm approaching hard and fast, and from such slow movements, as well!
And Jake carefully withdrew his fingers from her warmth. She wanted to kill him, teasing her like this again, until she saw him untying the drawstring on his plaid pajama pants, sliding them away from his hips, down his legs, to the ground...
She drew in a shocked breath. He was big, and he looked as though he'd barely fit, but she was sure - oh, so sure - that the feel of him would be phenomenal.
He didnt enter her immediately; his lips- his hot, ready lips - touched hers, whispered against them, teasing her, and then he slowly slid into her. She immediately accepted his fullness, enveloping her tight walls around him as a moan - this one loud and almost mistakable for a scream - tumbled from her throat.
"You feel so damn good, Jake." she said, whimpering, wrapping her legs around his hips, pulling him tighter to her.
"As do you, love." he murmured against her ear, pulling away from her and driving back into her at that same, dauntingly slow speed - a speed which Elle was quickly discovering that she enjoyed immensely.
His hips met hers, thrust for agonizing, mindblowing thrust. Each time he reached a new depth within her, each time drawing out a new spectrum of colors and sounds that she'd never seen or heard before, the sounds emitting from either her mouth or his, but at this point it was far too difficult to discern them.
"Come," Jake bit her ear lightly. "Now."
She was helpless, and had no choice but to obey as he entered again, her walls clenching him, pulsing against him as her heart thudded erotically and she gasped heavily.
Then, her eyes flew open. She was tangled in her bedsheets, hair sticking to her sweating skin, gasping for air. She sat up, looking around.
Elle was alone in her room, it had all been a dream. What a wonderful dream it had been. She sighed, collapsing back into her pillows, wishing it had been as real as it had felt.
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woah, so it was a dream? what a bitch! review review review! :P