Disclaimer – I own nothing except my imagination.
A.N – Thank you all so much for the love and support! I know some of you guys are a bit worried about Jacob's wolf, but fear not for I have a plan—just bear with me. On that note, A LOT is going to happen/be said in this chapter, so strap on. Hope everyone enjoys! Everything will sort of make sense (or at least it should) by the end of this chapter! On with the show! :)
To Jay, alba1020, PastOneonta, sarah88, Crisely, kouga's older woman, Serin Zephyr, April-Showers82, Wolf Born Woman, AshaTwiHard72, TiffaniW, corkykellems, TommyH, Guest(1), Debbie HICKS, Holidai, AHealingRenaissance, teacupdestiny: Thanks so much for taking the time to let me know what you think and how you feel. Seriously, I cherish all reviews! I practically jump in glee whenever there's a new one in my inbox, so suffice it to say that I Love You. Also, there's no such thing as too long a review! I sincerely do enjoy reading all of your thoughts on the chapters—they make me smile, laugh, and think! On another note, understandably, a few of you were not too happy about the whole Leah/Jacob/WolfCraziness aspect, but an unmarked female wolf in a pack full of dominants was not something that I could consciously overlook despite how much I wanted to. But, hopefully by the end of this chapter you'll all be jumping for joy!
As always, a heartfelt thank you to all who have favorite, followed, and read silently. I feel the love! ;)
/I am moving through the crowd, trying to find myself
Feel like a guitar that's never played—will someone strum away?
And I ask myself: Who do I wanna be?
Do I wanna throw away the key, and invent a whole new me?
And I tell myself: No one, no one,
Don't wanna be no one but me/
-No One, Aly & AJ
Chapter 10 – Passing Through the Other Side
"Ugh, I can't deal with guys anymore!" Jessica paints her toenails as she gossips with me, Lauren, and Angela. I'm not quite sure how it happened, but one nod too many when I hadn't actually been listening and I landed myself at Jessica's house for a sleep over.
"Are you kidding me?" Lauren rolls her eyes as she stares at herself in the mirror. I'm not sure what she's looking for, but I don't think asking will go over too well. "This is Mike we're talking about. He's as dense as it gets."
"What's exactly the problem?" I ask, but I'm half-afraid I don't actually want to know.
"Jessica wants to…you know…but Mike doesn't seem to be making any moves," Angela answers my question shyly. A little too shyly, because I have no idea what you know means.
I don't say anything, and they each stare at me—their eyes are saying something, and why won't they just say it—oh. OH! My face lights up like the lights on Fourth of July. Jessica and Lauren both laugh at my expense, but it doesn't bother me much. The fire is relaxed for once, and I think it's because of all the hours spent in Jacob's arms last night.
"So you and Mike?" I try to get out, but I guess I'm just as shy as Angela when it comes to this topic. "I didn't know you guys were that serious."
"We're not," she closes the nail polish and gives me her full focus. "But he makes me feel like I'm the only thing in his world when we're alone, and it's pretty epic. Like, they should bottle that kind of talent."
I had never had many girlfriends, and it's sort of nice to be able to tell when a conversation is about to go into full gossip mode. I'd never needed the ability to tell before—guess things really have changed since I moved to forks. Lauren and Angela must feel the shift too because they climb back on the bed and cross their legs, focusing on Jessica.
"He's not talented," Lauren scoffed. "He wants to get laid."
"Can we not cheapen what should be the single most important moment of my teenage career?" Jessica snaps. I can see the claws about to descend, and try to cut the fight at the knees.
"So, if it's going to happen, and you feel all that, then what's the issue?" I ask.
"She's selling, but he's not buying," Angela explains—completely beat red—in a way that I have no idea what she means, and yet I do know. "You know, he's going to buy eventually because he obviously wants to buy, but he's haggling when it's really not necessary to prove something is my guess, and Jessica's getting frustrated with all the waiting."
Jessica and Lauren chuckle, and I can't help but join in with them. This feels comfortable in a completely different way than when I'm with the pack. This feels nice. Not home or family, but warm.
"Don't worry, Jess," I try to console her. My mouth and empathy run away from me before I can stop myself. "I know exactly how you feel."
"Oho! Is the pretty princess of Forks getting hot and heavy with the gang banger?" Lauren teases me harshly, but I'm strong. I can take anything she throws my way. Unfortunately, I know that my face is just as hot as Angela's.
"He's not in a gang…per-sé." I know that my justification is weak, but I can't tell the truth. So I try to refocus the conversation. "The point is that I'm in the same boat."
"What is wrong with these guys?!" Jessica screeches and waves her arms around erratically. "We're hot. We might not win any beauty pageants but we're still top pick of the litter, so why in the hell won't they sleep with us?!"
A door in the house slams suddenly and we all jump—afraid that we were being too loud and someone had overheard. After a minute of silence we all laugh at our paranoia, but we lower our voices anyway, just in case.
I miss Jacob, and the pull subtly tugs and tugs, but talking about him helps the urgency to be near him, and so I let myself talk—unchecked.
"Jacob says it's because I'm worth more than just doing it in the back of a car or against a tree."
"You guys got it on against a tree?!" Lauren gasped, a surprised smile on her face. Oh, please let the Earth swallow me up. Please.
"That's not the point," Angela intercedes on my behalf. I want to give her a hug, but refrain with Lauren's rebuttal.
"You're right," Lauren's smirk makes me wary. I may understand her, but the fire isn't itching and burning so much today and I'm not sure I can match her. "The point is that she's going to have sex with Jacob."
Perhaps she really did hit it on the head, because I am going to have sex with Jacob, and I don't know how—what if I do it wrong? Inhale. Exhale. Breathe.
"Can you do it wrong?" the words fly out of me. I'm suddenly too anxious to be embarrassed about talking about it. I need all the help I can get.
"Got me," Jessica shrugs. Angela frowns and looks at Lauren for an answer.
"Why are you all looking at me?" Lauren snaps. "I'm not the guru of sex. I've only done it once with Paul and he took the lead. I literally just hung on for the ride."
"Are you kidding?" Jessica explodes indignantly. I'm not sure why she's indignant but I know I won't have to wait long to find out. "You talk such a big game, and you've only ever done it once?"
"Well," Lauren's glare is fierce, and I can see so much of Paul in her somehow. "Just because we only had sex once doesn't mean we didn't do other stuff all the time."
"How was it?" Angela asks curiously—suppose the curiosity overruled her bashfulness with this topic. Frankly, it's overruled mine too.
"The sex?" Lauren questions, and we all nod eagerly. We're like people in church, soaking up everything the preacher says. Lauren: the preacher of lost virtue. "It hurt like a bitch, but it wasn't as bad as I've heard it could be. I didn't really enjoy it, but I did kinda love every second of it anyway, in a weird way."
"How is that even possible?" I have to know.
"Well, I didn't orgasm like you read every girl does in romance novels—or at least I don't think so."
"Did he do something wrong?" Jessica's eyes are wide.
"I don't think so, but I'm not exactly the Sex Vixen of Forks. It might just be me—it's never really easy for me," her eyes are defensive, daring any of us to make fun of her. But I get it—if I were her I'd rather lay the blame on myself than let Jacob's renowned sexual prowess take a hit, whether he knew it or not.
None of us broach that particular topic (too awkward with the possibility that it might really be Lauren, and the fear that we might have the same problem…if it can be called a problem…so uncomfortable right now) and continue on.
"So if you didn't…you know…why did you love it?" Angela tips her head to the side in that inquisitive way of hers.
"It was about being close, I guess," Lauren shrugs, and her words resonate deep inside of me.
"Do you think you and Paul will ever get back together?" I remember Paul's loyalty, and the yearning in his eyes when he had looked her way the day he had dropped and picked me up from school. It's about being close.
Silence settles upon us as we let Lauren ponder her response. The silence lets me focus on myself and my connection to Jacob. I feel him in the Earth, practically flying through the trees. I can practically feel the beat of his heart in my hands, and I wish that he were next to me. I wish and hope and desire beyond anything else in this world.
I see the sadness in Lauren's eyes, and I feel for her. The intensity that had been in the air that day between Paul and Lauren said it all—they had loved passionately, and we all should be so lucky to have loved and lost like they had.
"Well?" Jessica lost her patience, apparently. "Do you think you guys will ever patch things up?"
Patch, like they were a ripped sweater that needed mending…Perhaps they were. Maybe anything's possible; I feel the warmth of faith spread through me from the pull and I know Jacob is giving me what I need, despite not knowing why I need it. It's about being close.
"Sometimes I wish we could get locked in a room together, just so we could hash things out," she speaks softly—the softest I've ever heard her and I know she's speaking from the heart. It's the only way to talk of matters of the heart, I guess. "But then I remember how he never answered even the simplest of questions. I remember that everything was a battle with him—even his love. I remember everything, and it hurts sometimes but…I don't want to fight for a guy who's not willing to fight for me, you know? So will we ever get back together? I hope so, but unless someone knows Santa Claus and he's shelling out gifts to the naughty, then probably not."
I know what Charlie would say: let things run their course. Renee would probably tell me that not all relationships were meant to be. Jacob wouldn't care either way whether or not I butt in—he already knows how nosy I am.
But Paul, loyal Paul—he would care. He would care because even though I've never had a conversation with him about Lauren, I know what I saw with my eyes and what I felt through our connection, and he loves her.
And if I were him, I'd want someone to butt in. He's pack, family, and that's all that really matters to me. It's about being close.
"Guess you should start calling me Santa," I smile slightly. Lauren smiles hesitantly back—eyes hoping but trying so hard not to, Jessica squeals, and Angela grins—plans and secrets about to be shared shinning in each of their eyes.
I realize that no, this isn't like family, or pack, or home, but it's something all its own: sisterhood.
My heart is bursting through my chest, it's beating so fast. Anxiety rolls off me in waves, I'm sure, but it doesn't matter. Nothing matters right now, except Jacob. Jacob and I. Us. Truly together.
After my talk with Jessica, Lauren, and Angela, I realized that I didn't want any walls separating me from Jacob. Not mental or physical ones. I want to fall in his arms and be reborn. I want everything he's willing to offer me, and I'm willing to fight for it. It's about being close.
So, instead of sleeping over Jessica's house, I got in my truck and drove. I drove like a madwomen, because I'm so scared. I want to do what I'm about to do, but I'm terrified of doing it.
I've been standing in front of Jacob's house for fifteen minutes, just staring at the paint that's been chipping off the walls throughout the years. This is the house that he's lived in since he was born. His history has been shaped in this house, and now…mine sort of will, too. My history with Jacob from this moment forward…if only I could get my feet to move.
But before I can sum up the courage, the front door swings open, and Jacob's imposing figure stands in the doorway. We stare at each other and I know that he knows something is about to change.
He walks to me, the grace of the wolf peering through, even in the darkness of night.
"I wasn't sure if you were ever planning on knocking," he jokes. His eyes are laughing, and I feel the warmth of love spread through me. Is this love? Can I love him? Too soon. But can love really be timed? I search within myself, the doubt, hope, and biting warmth that eats at me to acknowledge it.
Like the phoenix that rises from its ashes...I finally really do get it. Because the thought of loving him doesn't scare me. The thought that I might love him doesn't cause my palms to break out in sweat or my heart to race. It steadies me. It reminds me that he's home. He's my home. I love this man, and for once—for once in my life, I'm not afraid.
"I didn't bring any books with me," I say randomly. He doesn't quite understand the significance but I do. I'm grounded. His love has done that.
"That's…nice."
"I don't need my books, anymore. Not really," I try to make sense of my feelings out loud. But I'm Charlie's daughter, and neither of us are great in that department. But I try anyway. I try for him. "But what I do need is to be with you—as close as we can be."
"We've gone through this before, Bells," Jacob cups my face in his hands. "Soon."
"But when is soon going to come?" I can't stop the desperation in my voice…I'm desperate for him to love me back, even though he doesn't know that I love him. It's about being close, and it's the only way I can think of to be as close to him as possible. "When are we going to really break down all these walls?"
"Are we still talking about us? Because I thought we had taken down our walls." Typical guy—or at least the guys I've always read about in books and in T.V: totally clueless. Or maybe I'm the complicated one. Doesn't matter because I know he feels me.
Insecurity tries to grip me, and my breath quickens; my hands itch for Jane Austen, but I can't lose my focus. Not here. Not now. Not when this matters so much. Not when he's brought me so far from the introverted shell I used to be, and the tunneled vision shell of a person I could have so easily turned into under Edward's influence.
"I love you," I whisper. Just rip it off like a Band-Aid, but a fear so strong tries to drown me in its pit of despair. Maybe I said it too fast. Maybe I said it too low. Oh my, is there a wrong way to tell someone?
"What?" he whispers, clearly shocked. I know my words were out of left field, but 'what' is still a horrible response. But the pull tells me that he feels what I feel. Together.
"I'm in love with you," I try to clarify, but my voice goes down another notch. Please love me back.
"You already know how I feel," Jacob leans in, our lips brush against each other but don't actually connect.
"Knowing isn't the same Jacob. It never is."
I can feel his uncertainty in the way the pull tenses and relaxes, but I can also feel so much more. Suddenly, a torrent of overpowering-all-encompassing-never-going-to-forget-it-as-long-as-I-live love floods through me, into me, all around me. It's too much, yet everything I could ask for. My knees buckle, and Jacob's strong arms wrap around me and hold me to him.
"Tell me that that's not worth a thousand words," he demands. I feel and feel and fly through the emotions running through me from him, but why won't he say it?
He must read the question in my eyes, and sighs. I don't want to cause him stress, and I don't need the words, but I do want to hear them if he feels them—I can't put us on the backburner all the time. Tonight, right now, this isn't about the pack or the imprint, or his duty—this is about us.
"Why do you love me?" he asks. This is definitely not what I was expecting. I freeze. Why do I love him?
"Do I need a reason?" It's the best that I have. I feel the lack of my answer acutely.
"Yea, Bells, you do" he says tenderly. There's a kindness in his eyes that aren't judging me, but feeling with me. Not because of the imprint, but because I'm me and he's him, and we care. "When I was fourteen I went crazy for this girl—"
"What girl?" I'm not jealous, just curious. Really curious. Okay, slightly jealous.
"Doesn't matter," Jacob smiles slightly, and continues on smoothly. "The point is that I could have declared to the entire world that I was in love with her at the time, even though she claimed to only see me as a friend. I could tell you what she liked to read, who her best friend was, what music she liked and which she hated—I knew it all. And so I kinda did go shouting it to the world that we were soul mates. What the hell did I know about any of it, right? But, a long story short, Billy caught wind of my supposed epic romance, and sat me down. Do you know what he told me?"
"No, what?"
"He told me that love is a choice, and it's the hardest choice in the world to take back. He asked me how well I knew myself, which surprised the heck out of me because I would expect him to ask how well I knew her. But he asked me how well I knew myself because loving someone isn't about them—not really. Loving someone isn't a mutual exchange situation—you can love them even if they never love you."
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying that you're seventeen, and I'm asking you to ask yourself: how well do you know yourself?" He leaned his forehead against mine, eyes shining with a hope that I don't understand but want to fulfill for him, anyway. "Because if the answer isn't 'as much as you ever will,' then maybe you shouldn't be so fast to love me."
"What are you afraid of?" I lash out and rip out of his arms. I may not know myself, and I may just be seventeen, but I know how I feel. I know that I love him, and that won't change on a whim!
"I'm afraid that you're going to love me and regret letting yourself a year or two from now," Jacob pushed back verbally. I can tell that's just who Jacob is—he's not one to take anything lying down, even an argument with his imprint…girlfriend…whatever the heck I am.
I've never felt so normal than in this moment. We've never been so normal than right now.
"You and me are solid, Jake," I thought he already knew that. "You know that."
"No, the imprint is solid," Jacob turns his back to me. Guess it's hard to look someone in the eye when you're bearing the weight of too much truth. But is that what this is? Truth? "We're just people, Bella. The imprint will never go away. It'll never falter. But we're not slaves, and it can't force us to love each other now, let alone forever. And the fact of the matter is that I'm a monster—"
"Don't you dare say that to me ever again," I yell at him. The fire leaps and burns inside of me, angry. I can bear anything, I think, except him seeing himself that way.
"It's the truth!" He shouts back. "I'm a monster, but I accept that. I've learned to accept exactly who I am and what I am. How can you love me when you refuse to accept that? The biggest part of me?"
"I've accepted your wolf completely!" We're like ping pongs, back and forth, back and forth. But we need this—to air these things that have been festering.
"No you haven't!" His eyes turn amber but I don't back down. I can't. I refuse to be scared of his wolf any more than I'm scared of him, the man. "You never thought about it. Not really. I tell you I turn into an animal, and you just say 'oh.' How can I trust that? How do you expect me to believe that you've accepted the wolf when you've never shown any fear toward him?"
"So what? This is about being on a power trip? You want me to fear your wolf?"
"I want you to fear me, because whether or not we like it, the wolf is a part of me that I'll never be able to take out."
We're nose to nose. Our chest heave and our breaths are ragged. I should be afraid, but all I see is him. Alpha. Man. My hands glide up his chest without my permission, and it's as if my body is on auto-pilot, knowing what to do even if I consciously don't. Anger courses through my veins at the imprint's knowledge, and I clench my hands into a fist with his shirt as a center.
"I'll never be afraid of you," I try to pierce him with my gaze—let him see into me, so that he might believe. I will everything that I feel into him. "I'll never stop loving you."
"Never is a long time," his jaw clenches, but his eyes don't cool down. I can't help the single laugh that escapes me. We really are together, merged. He gives me a quizzical look, his hands still clenched at his sides. He's always holding the wolf back.
"I say that to myself all the time. Whenever I think to myself that I'll never stop feeling the way I feel, my mind kicks back 'never is a long time.' But so what if it is? So what if forever is as long as it gets? I know how I feel, and I know you feel it, too. So why won't you just admit it? Why won't you just let me all the way in?"
"This isn't about how I feel," he sighs, and runs his hands through my hair roughly, gently, everyway possible. My body flares, but I have to focus on his words. "This is about how you let yourself feel, Bells. Because loving me is never gonna get easier. We're never gonna run into the sunset together. This is my life—the pack, and my tribe. I'm never gonna leave for long, and I don't want to…I used to have dreams about graduating, and going as far as I can. Maybe Hawaii to my sister, or even to Seattle at Washington State. I used to dream big, and loud, and there was nothing like those dreams. I wanted to be the next Indian Superman to the mechanic world, but those dreams aren't options anymore. Not anymore. But you, you can still dream big. You can go as far away as you want, and be anything you want to be as long as you don't let yourself love me too much, because loving me will be an anchor. It'll be the heaviest anchor you'll ever have, and you'll wake up one day and hate me for not telling you what I know."
His speech is passionate, and raw. It brings tears to my eyes, but I refuse to blink. This isn't about my reaction; this is about his fear. I take a breath, let the air fill my lungs completely, marinate on what I can say to convince him, and finally let it all out—the insecurity, the denial, the anger. I let it all go because I realize that the only response he deserves is simply the truth, regardless of how it might sound.
"You might be right," I close the tiny gap that separates us. The heat races through my body, and I feel the desire spread through the link, from him to me. Focus. Breathe. "Or you might be wrong, but either way…that's my choice to make. And I choose you."
"Bella," Jacob shudders and I know that my words might have been too much for the wolf to hold back…but maybe I want him to lose control. Perhaps that would be the best scenario—for him to lose all control and then bring himself back from the brink so that he could finally trust himself like I trust him. "You saw Emily's face."
We both know it's not about the physical scars on her face, at least not fully, but about what those scars represent: the animal within; the fear of violence; the acceptance of the possibility that our passion could lead to all types of emotional and physical pain.
"I've also seen you covered in blood and ash, barely holding on to the wolf…but you held on" I remind him. "You say that I haven't really accepted your wolf, but I'm not the one afraid of that side of you, Jacob. You're scared of yourself, but that's not on me."
Silence reigns between us…between my lips as they kiss his collarbone…between our faces as he breathes my scent in hungrily. I want him so bad, but he's so scared of losing control. I can feel it in the way he holds me tightly one moment, to loosen up the next.
"You're right," he whispers, but his lips are grazing my cheek, my chin. Please, please. More. "I'm terrified, honey. The wolf wants you so badly. I want you just as damn much, too. What if…I can't even think about the possibility—I can't—"
I cut him off with the only response I have: a kiss. I kiss him without any barriers, or hesitancy. I kiss him like the woman he's made me into in the short time we've been together: passionately. More. More.
"Fuck, Bells," he breaks away, but I haul him back and lift my leg. Soon has arrived, and I'm over waiting. I'm over the space that there always seems to be between us. It's about being close, and the imprint inside of me practically purrs at the contact of his body so close to my core.
"Don't do this," he pleads, but the hunger in his eyes betrays him. The way his hands grip my backside roughly, and grind me into him says more than his words.
"You don't need to trust yourself," I bite down on his lips, and his growl fills me in a way that I've never known possible. "Trust me."
We both pause with my words; it's the moment of truth. The pull is still. The quiet is suffocating. We.
"I trust you," he says as his lips lay claim to mine and the fire explodes.
It's like I had known all this time that I only felt a fraction of what he feels, but now, now I see. There's zero barrier between our emotions and I can't breathe—the good kind of breathlessness. His hands are everywhere, and mine try to match his pace.
More. More. As if he can hear my thoughts, his body responds by lifting me. My legs naturally wrap around his waist, as though we'd been doing this for a thousand years. But we haven't. Not really. And fear grips me. What if I do it wrong? But I can't react to the traitorous thought because he's moving us. I think to house.
His lips latch on to my neck, my eyes flutter, and I see that we've moved past the house. We're by the forest line, but I don't ask him why. The same way I ask for his trust, I give it completely in return because…well…he's Jacob.
Like lightning in the sky, one moment we're moving and the next we're not. He lays me on the ground, and I'd like to ask why we can't continue this show on an actual bed, but it just feels right.
There's grass and dirt and leaves under and around me, but it feels so right. Like the simplest version of ourselves, before the material world.
His body hovers over me, and there's a moment of stillness again, but this time it's charged with desire so great that I could erupt from the sheer strength of it. I lift my arms, as though I were a child, and he gently removes my shirt, and bra. Breathe. Don't panic. But no one besides Renee and Charlie when I was a child had ever seen me this naked.
I expect him to say something, either good or bad. Maybe a nice "you're beautiful" like the guy always says in the movies. But he doesn't. He stares as his hands trail over my stomach, torso, back, arms, oh god, never stop.
His eyes are so bright that they shine. His body shudders from containing the wolf. "Mine," he says savagely, and I love every second of it. It's better than any placating "you're beautiful" that I've ever heard in any movie…because this is real. We are real.
"Yours," I practically sob out, my desire has consumed me completely. "All yours."
I don't know how or when it happened, but I'm naked, at his mercy. We're both naked. This is really happening. Don't panic. Don't Panic. Focus. It's about being close. Then in his eyes I see the truth—he's at my mercy.
I've never felt so powerful, which is strange because I've never given up so much control either.
I spread my legs, shyly, but hopefully invitingly. Apparently, definitely inviting enough because his hands are on me. I can't breathe, it's so good. Don't faint, don't faint. His mouth is on the attack, and he's everywhere at once.
Oh my God, please, please. I don't realize until he growls that I was pleading out loud. But I'm not ashamed. I could never be ashamed of wanting him the way I do. His lips hungrily devour mine as his finger slides inside of me, and heaven can't be better.
I arch and moan and scratch at him, completely engrossed in my passion. His passion. Our passion, because we feel together right now. Zero barriers.
The wolf is too close to the surface for him to keep a hold on his emotions as well.
I scratch as hard as I can to break skin, because I want him to feel like I feel right now; I need him to grasp the heightened sensitivity that only passion can inspire.
He feels what I feel. Zero barrier. He groans out "fuck, fuck, Bells," as he removes his fingers and lustfully grinds his pelvis into mine. His heat slides against my heat. I've never been so exposed and so safe. Nothing on this earth will ever compare to being fully immersed in the fury of him, his passion.
My body's shaking and shivering, and suddenly, it's like the world is rushing by me as we merge completely and-owwww!—there are zero barriers. Holy cow! The pain is intense but there's so much else to focus on. I can feel the earth beneath me like he does. Connected. Connected to the very ground.
The leaves breathe under me, and the dirt against my back is warm with life. The ground beneath me is alive with the spirits of the past. I'm surrounded by magic, and I had never known it.
The cords connecting me to the pack are like ropes of steel suddenly. They all feel the same—they all feel the same, even the one tying us to Leah, and I can barely take a second to realize the significance of it. The birds fly above me far away, and the deer graze by the river. I can see it all, and it's beautiful. Magnificent. The water that flows in the ocean to the beach crashes against me, and I'm devoured by the intensity of the land beneath my back. Jacob's land. My land, now, too. I had no idea that this is what I had been missing out on the entire time.
But the pain flashes and burns. I'm sure Jacob sees the pain on my face, and he stops. But it's about being close, and I don't ever want him to stop. "Don't stop—" I gasp out. "Don't—"
His kiss drowns out my words, but it is okay because we're moving. His body is hard and soft against mine, and it's the single weirdest experience of my life…and the most awesome because it's with him.
It's like I'm flying with the birds; through the pain, my body's reaching for something, something so good and epic. It's just outside of my reach, but I can't help fighting it. It's too much, too powerful of a feeling and my body tenses against it.
"Let go," Jacob groans in my ear, but I hear it for what it is. A plea. "Don't fight it."
"I don't know how," I respond as I clutch him tighter—so tight I hadn't even known it was possible. My voice sounds scared and breathless simultaneously. This is so new and all engulfing. Jacob chuckles low as he buries his head in my neck. I'm not sure what in the heck is so funny when I'm trying, here—he plunges deeper inside of me. So deep. Deeper than I ever thought possible, and a shriek falls from my mouth, quickly replaced by a moan. Oh, wow.
Again, again, please oh please do that again. And he does. Over and over, and I'm no longer worried about letting go because I'm trying to push him deeper. I'm not fighting the extreme feeling pulsing inside of me. I'm screaming and thrashing and praying for it.
The pain is dull and only slightly burning still, but present. It doesn't matter. The pain can't compare to everything else that's so much greater.
I can't focus on the world away from me that I can see and feel, because all I feel is him. Jacob. The sun. He shines brighter than anyone in this world, regardless of his mood swings, or his brooding, or his fears. He shines.
This immense feeling of—god, how do I explain it?—hope, faith, love, lust, honesty, heaven spreads through me and I'm falling from the sky as Jacob rises in ecstasy to fall with me. Because we are one. Finally, the tension in the imprint, in the pull relaxes.
Jacob groans and growls and bites me in between my shoulder and neck, as I feel his scent wash over me, and my scent wash over him, as though I were the one with supernatural smell. But I don't. It's what I smell to Jacob, now. It's what I probably smell to everyone with supernatural sense of smell, now. It's probably how he smells to others now, too. We.
The tension in my body is larger than ever, and yet better than ever.
I'd take this tension any day of the week. It feels like every nerve ending in my body is awake and electrified. Until it all stops, and the world is left spinning. We are spinning. We are magic.
I can't help but ask, "Is it always like this?" as Jacob rolls us over so I'm lying on top of him, still connected. Still so full of him.
Jacob laughs throatily, head thrown back, eyes closed in all types of pleasure. Content to just be. It's about being close, and I know that nothing will ever separate us again.
Soooo? What do you guys think? I've been trying to find a balance between the fact that he's a Werewolf (so he has certain aspects and imperatives of a wolf), and the fact that he's also a man with a sense of agency in regards to his decisions and his emotions. Do you think I hit it on the mark or failed? What about that sex scene?! Honestly, that's about all the description that I could give without making MYSELF blush! Haha. Hope everyone enjoyed it! Also, surprisingly, I had a REALLY hard time picking the song. This chapter has so much, yet the largest arc is sex, and yet the sex (dealing with it as a reality and as an unknown) is really just a part of growing up (growing pains) isn't it? Eeh, either way, liked it? Hated it? Let me know and Review! :)