Deştepta
Pairing: E/B endgame
Rating: It's about a goddamn succubus, do you have to ask?
Setting: College AU vaguely following the Twilight storyline
All standard disclaimers apply
Bella wakes blearily, tucked into the most sumptuous bed she's ever had the pleasure of occupying—and she's occupied quiet a few in her day. Blinking slowly as her mind rouses from a dead sleep, she observes her unfamiliar surroundings without fear. This isn't the first time she's woken somewhere strange and it won't be the last. It doesn't bother her at all.
The floor-to-ceiling window opposite the bed takes up the entire wall, which Bella adores. Beyond the glass is forest, green and lush, sharp evergreens hovering close around the sleek, modern house. Water sheets from the greenery and pours from the hidden sky, the muggy end of summer broken at last in favor of the first truly chilly day of autumn. While Bella remains warm and cozy indoors the visual of the pouring rain and the gentle drumming sound feel incredibly soothing. She's not at all eager to leave this soft nest and venture out into the wet. Cold has never bothered her but she hates feeling soggy.
Her head falls back against the plush, downy pillow. It's so crisp and deep she's willing to bet no other head has ever touched it. Tactile, animal pleasure bleeds through her as she stretches slowly, pointing her toes and raising her hands above her head. Her spine pops softly. She feels...amazing. So fucking good. Well-rested, but not groggy with too much sleep, and while she can feel a faint, sweet, lingering ache humming in her blood, she's not terribly hungry.
She is, however, alone, and that's not normal. She's used to waking up in strange places, but there's always at least one body sacked out beside her, sleeping off whatever she put him (or her; she's not picky) through.
Not today, and as her mind slowly returns to her she remembers why. Swim class...Alice Cullen...the storm.
Edward.
Her mouth tenses, pursing softly. Now that her mind is her own again, she's not sure how she feels about her encounter with Alice's cranky brother in the woods. She doesn't regret it—she's not really built to regret much of anything, and she had no control over what she did during that storm anyway. She remembers smelling that boy and needing him as badly as she's ever needed anything in her life. She's been on the brink of starvation before and she won't say this was worse, but it was bad enough. The relief when his hard body drove her down into the dirt was all-encompassing. He was her buoy, lifting her up and anchoring her to himself at the same time, both the hurricane and her safe harbor to hide from it. But she's honestly a little hazy about what happened after that. She remembers kissing him, remembers drinking in the exquisite sweetness of his taste...and then it all gets very, very fuzzy. She remembers this incredible tingling bliss spreading through her, a sweet rush fiercer than any high she's ever chased. But she's also pretty sure he insulted her, and that's something she doesn't put up with from anyone, not even a vampire. Sam and his pack of unruly wolf boys know better, and Edward is going to learn just as they did.
But, on the other hand, she's also pretty sure he not only licked her pussy but absolutely devoured her with a feral, fierce hunger not even her wolves have ever matched. And while that's not an apology, it definitely earns him brownie points in her book. She really wishes her memories were clearer, because the sweet, lingering desire humming between her legs wants a repeat performance.
A small chuckle escapes her lips. He was unpracticed, but it didn't even matter. Of course a vampire would know how to use his mouth appropriately, wouldn't he?
Her bleary memories of her first meeting with the rest of Edward's family make her wince a little. It probably could have gone better—she's not very clear on the finer points of etiquette when meeting a family of vampires platonically, but she's pretty sure she broke at least some of them yesterday. It's hard to be certain when she's not used to talking with people she doesn't intend to screw. Under other circumstances she'd be down to fuck any of the beautiful specimens she met yesterday, but Alice wants to be friends, god help her, and Bella's fairly sure fucking her way through the family won't help facilitate that. Alice more or less gave her permission to corrupt Edward, but Bella suspects that's where the line is drawn and she's fine with that. He's enough of an enigma and a challenge.
Slowly Bella drags herself into a seated position, glancing down at the snowy white tank top clothing her tits. It's not hers. The glowing blue numbers on the clock next to the bed say it's seven am. Tossing the blankets down, she examines the hot pink and lime striped boyshorts covering her puss. They're definitely not hers, either, but they don't really seem like the sort of thing Alice Cullen would buy. Both she and Rosalie look like the type to wear only matching sets of fabulous—and fabulously expensive—lingerie.
A gentle knock sounds at the door.
"Come in." Bella examines the gauze taped to the inside of her left elbow. She has vague memories of a man with kind eyes speaking to her as he sucked her blood, but the presence of that gauze makes her question their veracity. She's never heard of a vampire bothering to tend the wound he left behind.
The door cracks open and Alice's head pops through. Her short hair is slicked down today, smooth as silk, no hint of yesterday's spikes. "Hey, sleepyhead."
"Hey yourself." Bella offers her a drowsy smile. "Is that clock right? Sorry I crashed. I really didn't meant to."
"Don't worry about it. It was the best outcome, all options considered." Alice steps into the room, leaving the door ajar. "How do you feel now?"
"Great." Aside from the softly simmering ache of desire left by and specifically for Edward, she feels fucking fantastic. Rarely has she ever overloaded her system and never to that degree, not even with a frat house full of wolves, and she can feel the energy sparking through her veins like caffeine. Unless her crash counts, she feels no comedown or hangover symptoms.
"I have to apologize, too," Alice says. "I'm usually much better at planning, you'll find. Edward wasn't supposed to be here at all, and then the storm changed course." She scowls. She's dressed to perfection in high-end athleisure, and Bella is forced to wonder whether vampires practice pilates.
"Please don't apologize for Edward. I'm almost not even upset at him, and even if I was, he's not your problem."
Alice perches on the edge of the bed. "What are you upset at him for?"
"Almost nothing, like I said. I'm pretty sure he insulted me in the woods, but I'm also pretty sure he brought me back here instead of just leaving me in the mud, which might make up for it."
Alice rolls her eyes. "Stupid boy." She squeezes Bella's hand. "He did bring you back, and he was out of his mind with worry for you, if that's any consolation. He has strange ways of showing his feelings sometimes—he comes off as angry when he isn't."
"Oh, trust me, he was angry." Bella laughs. "But he may have had a right to be. I was kind of out of my mind."
"You were," Alice agrees, failing miserably to hold back a grin. "It was pretty funny. How much do you remember?"
"Most of it, I think?" Bella glances down and frowns at the gauze on her arm. "On second thought, maybe not. What happened here?" She extends her arm, exposing the underside to the little vampire. "I could have sworn someone bit me."
"Carlisle took a small amount of blood to test, to make sure Edward's venom didn't harm you. He—"
"Wait, wait," Bella interrupts, her mind whirring as she struggles to remember. "Venom? I thought that was some weird shit my head dreamed up. You were serious about that?"
"Oh, yes." Alice smiles sweetly. "Humans have all sorts of fluids; vampires have only one. Edward was terrified that kissing you and licking that cut on your forehead would be enough to harm you, but you're fine."
Bella lightly touches the small bump on her forehead with her fingertips. She can barely feel it, and it doesn't concern her. What does is this new information. "Would it have harmed a human if he did that?"
Alice shrugs. "Probably, but it's really hard to say. We don't really have any case samples to compare you to, you know."
Bella knows. And, though Alice hasn't said so, she also bets it's not normal for a human to survive a vampire encounter—at least not long enough to be studied. She probably should be thanking whatever deity kept Edward from biting her yesterday, but honestly, she wasn't afraid. She still isn't. She can't look at Alice's open, direct gaze and distrust her.
"Carlisle did find something interesting in your blood, though. Not venom, per se, but a biomarker of venom."
"You're going to have to slow down. It's been a long time since I took any biology courses." Bella hasn't been in school in...a long time. And, while the Cullens are fascinating, she's not entirely happy to be back now.
Alice chuckles. "It means there was venom in your blood, Bella, but your body metabolized it. That's what got you so high, honey."
"Really?" Bella frowns. "But there was barely any contact. He sucked on a few tiny cuts and I kissed him. I can suck face with the best of them, and that was nothing like how messy it can get."
Alice smirks. "I don't think Edward has ever been messy in his life. Except for when he hunts, and he hates hunting because of it."
Bella chews lightly on her lower lip as she processes this information. She knew her new friends had to eat somehow, but... "Hunt?"
"Wild animals, Bella. Did you think we went around hunting humans?"
"I do." Bella props her pillows up against the headboard and leans back on them. Fuck, she never wants to leave this bed. This is the sort of bed aristocratic Victorian ladies lived in, she's sure of it.
"But you don't kill your prey. It's kind of a requirement with us. When the hunger sets in, we can't take just a little." Her smile turns regretful, a little wistful. "It's not an easy balance, being what we are yet having a conscience. Most of our kind don't. Have a conscience, I mean. It's easier to embrace the predator inside fully. But some of us can't, like Carlisle and me. And others won't, like Esme and Rosalie. Edward's gone back and forth, you know."
Bella didn't know, but she also doesn't blame him for it. He is what he is. "Am I always going to get raving drunk on him with one lick like that?" she asks, because honestly, this concerns her more than his dietary habits. She loved the way it felt, but it may put a damper on her dietary habits if it continues.
"To some extent, probably, but Carlisle says you'll likely build up a tolerance. You're like a kid who just took his first shot of hard liquor. You'll get used to it." She smiles knowingly.
That's actually the best answer Bella could ask for. She's perfectly happy considering Edward her personal bottle of Everclear, and perfectly happy continuing to provoke him into helping her build up her tolerance. "He tastes really good, Alice," she says dreamily, leaning back into those perfect pillows.
Alice snickers. "He's also my brother, so I would prefer not to know the details. Changing the subject—you told us last night that you don't eat. Is that true, or were you just drunk and babbling? Are you hungry now?"
"It's true. I can, and sometimes food tastes good, but I get nothing from it so there's no point. I'd rather not waste." She drinks coffee sometimes for the small hit of caffeine, but a heavy petting session with someone really into her is a better buzz. Sometimes just a look from someone she shares great chemistry with is enough to wake her up. Someone like Sam.
Shit.
Alarm bells blare in her head. Oh, fuck. This is really not good. Sam warned her to keep away from the Cullens, specifically Edward. He's never given her rules before, but something about the vampires sets the wolf in him afire. Bella willingly defied him when she came home with Alice because he's not her alpha and he can't actually tell her what to do unless she lets him. But she didn't actively mean to defy him by rolling in the mud with Edward. Sam and his stupid rules were the furthest thing from her mind by that point.
"Bella? What's wrong?" Alice shakes her arm lightly.
"Sam's going to kill me." He's going to smell Edward on her and he's going to kill her. He told her to keep away from the Cullens and he told her not to fuck outside the pack. The first she had no intention of obeying from the start, but she had intended to keep to the pack. Not because Sam told her to, but because that's always been her policy with them. They keep her satisfied; she's never needed to seek sex elsewhere while with them. She did not plan on the storm, or Edward. Technically he didn't fuck her—that's something she would remember. But Sam won't care about the technicality.
"Calm down. I texted him for you last night—as far as he knows, you got drunk with some girls from your history class and slept it off in the dorms."
That makes Bella feel the tiniest bit better. Sam has seen her fuck girls before, but he's enough of a neanderthal that he won't suspect her of doing so without a man there to watch. "That explains why he hasn't used his nose or his phone to track me down and declare war on you all, but he's going to smell you all over me the minute I walk through the door." Bella's mouth tightens as her head spins, trying to find some way out of this. The pack has been good to her, the nearest she's had to friends in a very long time. They know and accept her for what she is. No one else has done that—ever. She's never trusted any humans with the truth.
"Shh." Alice's small hands grasp her shoulders and she turns Bella to look in her calm yellow eyes. "Would I do that to you? Ruin your relationship with your wolves when you barely know the rest of us? What kind of friend would I be if I let that happen?"
Bella bites her lip. Honestly, she has no idea, no fucking clue. All relationships she's ever had have been transactional, because everyone in the world only wants one thing from her.
Except Alice and her family. So how is she supposed to know what Alice might or might not do? She likes the little vampire a lot, but the truth is that they don't really know each other yet and Bella has been alive too long to confuse like with trust. They're two very different things. She doesn't like Sam but she trusts him with her body and her secret, and for her that's always been enough before.
When Bella doesn't answer out loud, Alice just smiles. "I know," she says, almost as if Bella did speak, and that gentle press of...something...washes over Bella's skin again, like her fire without the heat. "I know. We'll get there. For now, all you have to do is follow my directions and your boys will never know what happened yesterday. I promise, Bella."
And, god help her, Bella trusts her, at least with this.
"Here's the plan. I'll take you back to campus as soon as you're ready. You buy a swimsuit in the rec center, shower, swim, shower again, then head home. With all the chemicals in the pool and the industrial soap and shampoo in the locker room, there will be nothing left for the wolves to smell." She smiles.
That...does actually sound reasonable. Sam won't be happy, just as he wasn't happy when he heard Bella had signed up for a swimming class to begin with. He hates the stink of the pool on her. But his way of dealing with that is to take her to bed and work up a sweat, which she doesn't mind at all. She can handle his everyday moods. She just doesn't want her new friendship with the Cullens to cause harm to anyone.
Alice's angular face is so open, her expression so sweet Bella can't help smiling back. "You're very good at this whole subterfuge thing. Tell me honestly—were you ever a spy?"
Alice's little trill of a bird laugh fills the room. "Don't you wish you knew that answer?" she teases.
There are so many things Bella wishes she knew about her new friend, but they'll come with time. She doesn't feel the need to lob a million questions at her right now. She wants to know more about vampires in general and Alice in particular, so many things about her family and especially Edward. But one question sticks out among the rest. "You don't mind that I'm living with them? The wolves, I mean? Jacob said you were enemies, and Sam definitely has a problem with you."
Alice's skinny shoulder hitches. "No. Why should I? The wolves have good reason to mistrust us; it's baseless, but I can't blame them for it. And you'll leave when you're ready. It's not my place to make you."
Bella chews nervously on her lower lip. "What if I don't leave?" She always has before. Sam gets stifling and she needs autonomy. Eventually they clash to the point where even her easygoing nature can't take it anymore. But she's not sure she likes how definitive Alice sounds about her leaving the wolves this time, as if it's inevitable. Edward ate her out—fine. That's a pleasant afternoon, not a reason to upend the life she only just started rebuilding.
"You'll leave," Alice says gently. "Bella, do you remember me telling you last night that I see things?"
Bella shakes her head. She doesn't remember, and she doesn't fully trust the things she does remember. But very little Alice could say would surprise her. She's nothing like the legends, so why should vampires be?
"Well, I do. The future is always in flux—people make decisions, change their minds, change the outcomes. But some things are inevitable. Some visions never change, and this is one of them. I know the wolves make you feel good because you don't have to hide what you are around them. I can sympathize more than you know. But you're going to learn there's more to family than that, Bella."
"They're not my family," Bella says firmly. "Family's a human thing. I've never had one. I've never needed one."
"Not just human. But it's okay—you just met us, and you need time. That's understandable. Let us be your friends for now, and keep teasing Edward. It's good for him. The rest will come with time."
One side of Bella's mouth tugs upward in a smile she cannot control. "I can do that." Getting under Edward's skin has become one of her favorite pastimes. She doesn't think she can stop now. "But Sam and the pack have always been good to me. I don't want you to misunderstand about that."
"They have to a degree," Alice allows. "This is so confusing to try to explain. I don't get visions of the past, but I've seen us discuss this in the future. Time is oddly circular when you add memories into the mix." She huffs a little laugh of mild frustration. "Anyway, like I said, you'll see them differently later but don't worry about that now. Let's just focus on getting you home without starting a war."
Bella agrees. The last thing she wants is Alice's adorable family fighting the wolves over her. Reluctantly she leaves the most comfortable bed she's ever slept in, her bare feet sliding softly to the floor. The room and the bed are sleek and minimalist and she loves it, but the golden bedding looks oddly out of place as she shakes it out and smooths it back down. "Whoever did your decorating has great taste—mostly."
Alice laughs. "That's all Esme, except the bedspread. Edward tried his best, he really did, but he's kind of blind to the line between tasteful and ostentatious and in this case it ended up tacky. It was a gift, though, so Esme couldn't bear to part with it. That's why it's in the guest room."
Bella's eyes narrow in suspicion at the little vampire. "You dress him, don't you?" It's not really a question—the boy dresses impeccably and if this bedspread is any indication of his natural taste she has no faith that he dresses himself.
A little self-satisfied gleam enters Alice's eyes as she tosses Bella's laundered clothing on the bed. "He's capable of dressing himself day to day but I manage his wardrobe, yes. If I didn't, he'd still be wearing the suits that were in fashion during his human lifetime. Boy has trouble letting go of the past. It's not a vampire thing, just an Edward thing. The rest of us change with the times. Carlisle's the oldest and his taste in clothing is actually quite good, even if he is overly fond of scarves. I have a little more trouble with Jasper."
"Jasper?" Bella struggles to put a face to that name, but her mind's coming up blank. She pulls her shorts over the striped panties she slept in, though she rarely wears underwear except as, well, outerwear. The button on her denim cutoffs was lost at some point; she'll buy a pair of sweats or something in the rec center and toss these in lost-and-found. They smell like the Cullens even after being washed and she's not interested in taking chances with Sam's volatile temper.
"My husband. You didn't meet him yesterday. I asked him to stay away when I saw that Carlisle would draw your blood. Jasper's the newest to our way of life, and even though you're not human I didn't want to push his control."
Bella finishes tying her Chucks and straightens with a frown. "Is having me here going to cause problems? I don't want that."
"Oh, you've caused problems and I'm sure you'll continue to," Alice says easily. "You can't help that—it's part of who you are, and it's the most fun we've all had in decades. Don't worry about Jasper—he's fine. You'll meet him later. He's going to be fascinated by you."
This does not surprise Bella at all. Most men are fascinated by her, or think they are. It gets old. But she's not sure this is what Alice means. "Alice? My blood? Is that what you mean—does it bother you?"
"Bother?" Alice's head tilts to the side as she considers the question. "No, that's the wrong word. You smell amazing, but you don't smell human and you don't wake the thirst quite like a human does. But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious about how you taste." She grins, exposing those very straight, very white teeth. Like her brother she has no fangs, but the edges of those teeth look razor-sharp and Bella now knows from experience that they are. She's going to have to be a little more careful the next time she kisses Edward, unless she wants to bleed again. Not that bleeding the first time was such a bad thing. She grazes a fingertip over the tiny nick in her lip, now closed and healing but ever so slightly swollen. She's not opposed to a little blood play in this context—the little flares of white-hot pain when he nicked her were exquisite. It's never really been her thing before, but then, she's never played with a vampire before.
"Edward acts like he can't stand to be around me but wants to devour me at the same time. I wondered if that was a vampire thing."
"Nah." Alice leads the way out of the bedroom and points her down the hall. "That's an Edward thing, not a vampire thing. He's drawn to you more than most—we have a term for it among vampires, but I don't know if it applies to you, to be honest. Bathroom's there if you want to freshen up."
"Toothbrush?" That's really the only thing she cares about. She doesn't pee unless she drinks, and if she's heading straight to the pool primping is pointless.
"Under the sink." Alice leans in the doorway, examining her immaculate manicure as Bella brushes her teeth. "Edward likes having clear answers for everything, and you defy rational explanation. He's drawn to you and he can't explain why. It makes him surly."
Bella digs an elastic band out of her pocket and pulls her hair into a messy bun. "Surly" describes Edward perfectly as far as she's concerned—when he's not being sulky. And yet there's something about him, too, that she thinks she likes despite his attitude.
"Anyway, he went north to visit our cousins in Alaska. He was pretty upset yesterday but I think they'll be able to calm him down. He'll be back before you know it, and I think he'll be more open to talking about things. He's always been a very private person; the rest of us are a lot for him to handle."
"It must be lonely," Bella says, following Alice downstairs. "You're all paired off and he's by himself." She's never cared about having a partner herself, but then, she's not surrounded by couples as Edward is. For the first time, she genuinely feels for him. He may not want a partner either, but being the seventh wheel must get old.
"He always said he preferred it that way. Jasper and I know better, but Edward refuses to admit it." Alice rolls her eyes. "Men."
Bella isn't sure this is necessarily a man thing. It may, in fact, be another Edward thing. "Does Jasper see the future, too?" She grabs her backpack from beside the door.
"Bye, Bella!" Emmett calls from the kitchen, and she sees a giant arm wave around the doorway. "Yesterday was great—let us know the next time you want to have a sleepover!"
Alice snorts. "Idiot," she says fondly. "No, Jasper doesn't see the future. That's just me. He has a different gift. He'll tell you about it later—we need to get you back to campus now, before your wolves start to worry. I covered for you but I doubt Sam's happy anyway."
No, Sam won't be happy, and the sooner Bella smooths things over with him the better. She's fairly sure Alice's plan will work, but she's going to be nervous until she knows for sure. She doesn't owe Sam anything including her obedience and she has no intention of following his rules, but she doesn't want anyone, wolf or vampire, getting hurt because of her. Until she knows better what she's doing and what she wants, she's Switzerland.
The problem will be convincing Sam of that.
By the time Bella finally enters the LMA frat house she's been soaked through multiple times and her tolerance is at an end. She hates being wet. Maybe it's the fire at her core; aren't fire and water inimical? Whatever the cause, she loathes it. Swimming in a heated pool is pushing it; today has absolutely obliterated her patience. First she was drenched walking from Alice's car to the rec center. Then she had to shower and swim. And shower again. Then, after drying off and dressing in new, ugly green sweats with the college logo on them, she was drenched walking from the rec center to the frat house. She squelches as she pries her soaking wet shoes from her feet and leaves them atop the pile next to the door.
Jacob laughs. Bella thinks she might strangle him.
"You look as happy as a drowned cat."
She feels as happy as a drowned cat. "Bite me." She turns away from him and peels off her sodden sweats. Standing in the open doorway she's in full view of anyone on the street, but this is Greek Row. One naked girl will hardly make anyone glance up. She feels better once she shimmies out of every sticky, heavy layer; her skin is still wet, but her body temperature will fix that quickly. She wrings out her hair, dripping water on the tile entryway.
"Poor baby doll. Come here. I'll warm you up."
Warming up isn't the problem—she's never cold. She never even knew what cold felt like until yesterday. She just really, really hates being wet, and Jake's bare chest, while inviting, can't help with that. "I'm fine," she tells him, which is technically true, no matter how grumpy she is. She just wants to dry off and stay dry this time. She's skipping all her classes today and she doesn't care—she's not going out in this downpour again. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe.
"Hey, what happened here?" Jacob's playful tone turns serious and he closes the distance between them, one big hand folding over her hip and the other feathering across the bump on her forehead. "Whew, you stink like the pool. I wish you'd drop swimming. That's a nasty bump you got there."
"I know," she says, relief filling her that all Jacob seems to smell on her is the pool. Sam will be the ultimate test, but so far so good. "I was drinking last night and I knocked my head." In a twisted sort of way it's almost true, too. She was high as a kite after a tiny taste of venom, and she has no real regrets about it.
"Yeah, Sam said you drunk texted him a few times. He was more pissed than amused, you know. He nosed around the dorms to try to bring you home but with all the rain he couldn't find your scent."
Bella sends a silent thanks out into the universe for the storm that obscured her scent. Sam has never done that before and it makes her nervous now. She does not need the pack's alpha acting like a jealous boyfriend. She knows she should probably come clean about what's going on with the Cullens, but not until she actually knows herself. If she can't explain easily, this could get very messy very fast and with wolves involved messy means blood, not screamed insults and passive-aggressive social media posts. "Why was he looking for me?" she asks lightly, plaiting her wet hair into a loose braid. "Did something happen? He should have just texted." Not that she would have seen it, but he should have anyway.
"No, nothing's wrong. Probably just wanted to get his rocks off." Jake grins and shoves his hands in his pockets. "We miss you when you're not here, baby doll."
Yeah, she knows. Her wolves are perpetually horny and usually that's just fine with her. But she needs some time to think after yesterday, and she's suddenly very aware she's not going to get that here. She doesn't even have her own room—she bunks with whichever boy she ends up with at the end of the night. That's never bothered her before, but today she really wants to be alone and there's nowhere to do that. Her wolves really are like puppies, following her everywhere, nose to her crotch. It's cute. Until it isn't.
"Are you really okay? Usually you have a snappy comeback for everything, or your mouth on me by now." Jake touches her forehead again, swiping his thumb along the little goose egg and tiny scabbed cut. "Headache? You must after drinking that much and then whacking your head."
Bella's never had a headache in her life, but suddenly this seems like the perfect excuse for a little solitude. "A little," she lies without remorse. Don't human women do it all the time to get a little peace? She's not above that.
"Poor baby doll. C'mere." He lifts her naked body, cradling her easily against his hot chest. She can't help herself and curls into the smooth texture of his skin, the pure animal sensation of another body touching hers. It's the most comforting thing she knows. "I have class, but I'll put you to bed. You can sleep it off. Does Tylenol work on you?"
"No."
"Us, either, so I guess there's probably none in the house anyway," he says sheepishly. "Sorry."
It's fine. She figures it's sweet of him to offer even if he can't follow through. Although she can't help but wonder what lengths Edward would go to if he thought she had a headache. He carried her to a doctor frantically, Alice said, just because she was drunk, after all. He'd probably overreact similarly over a headache, grumbling and pulling his pretty hair the whole time.
Because it's Jacob holding her and Jacob is one of the safe ones, Bella feels comfortable asking a potentially dangerous question. "Jake? I was wondering about the Cullens."
"What about them?" he asks easily, tucking her into his unmade bed. The mattress is lumpy and the sheets smell stale. For a moment Bella longs for the Cullens' guest room with its huge picture window and the mattress that made her feel like she was sleeping on a cloud. But she's never been big on material possessions and she quickly dismisses this wish. She could get her own place if she wanted and maybe she should, but for today this is fine. She's not picky. She never has been. "The giant Cullen is joining the wrestling team," Jacob says with a snort, tossing his comforter over her. "Special rules—he can only fight wolves."
"How are any of you on the wrestling team at all?"
"Simple—we're only allowed to wrestle each other."
"How does that work in competition with other schools?"
"It doesn't." Jake sighs. "Sucks to be us, I guess." He pats her hip as she burrows into his pillow. "There, now you can rest." He looks incredibly proud of himself.
Maybe she can, maybe she can't. Her wolves are no better about boundaries than she is, since they share everything. Just because she's tucked in one boy's bed doesn't mean the others will leave her alone. Still, it was sweet of Jake to try. "Thanks, Jake." She cups his jaw in her hand and licks his cheek. She's always loved the way her wolves taste, but they've got nothing on Edward Cullen's sharp, smooth savor. Just the thought of it and her fire flares, crackling warm along her insides. Jacob feels it and his eyes gleam. He doesn't know it's not for him, and it doesn't matter. She's not stupid enough to tell him.
"Anytime," he says, returning her kiss. "You know this is your home. What did you want to know about the leeches? Did they bother you?"
This isn't her home, but she's given up correcting them about it. "No," she says quickly instead. The last thing she needs is for Jacob to relay to Sam that the Cullens are a problem. "Edward is my science lab partner but he can't stand me."
"Good. Let's keep it that way." His eyes darken as he touches her cheek. "You're ours, baby doll. I know you get nervous and that's why you run, but nobody gets you like we do."
No, they don't, but Jake is still wrong. She's not nervous when she runs, she's suffocating. Sam does not bend, neither does she, and that means this can never be a permanent refuge. She lands with the wolves from time to time when she needs to, but she doesn't stay and she thought they accepted that. Now she's not so sure.
Jake grabs a wrinkled tshirt from the floor and pulls it over his head, then digs in the closet for a jacket. "What did you want to know, baby doll? I have to get to class."
"Just—are the Cullens dangerous to me? You said they don't hunt humans, but I'm not human." Actually Jake didn't tell her that, but she's counting on him not to remember that fact.
He shrugs expressively. "Nobody knows anything about you, little girl. You know that. I can't answer those questions. I don't think even Sam can." He snorts. "Hell, maybe the Cullens can't, either. You're the only one like you."
She knows. She's always the only one like her. Even among her wolves she's still alone.
"But I do know this—the Cullens may not be dangerous, but Sam is." Jake's dark eyes watch her steadily. "I know you're curious and you have every right to be, but you need to be careful, baby girl. Of him, if not of them. You hear me?"
She hears him. It's no more than she already knew. She's not afraid Sam will hurt her, but she is afraid he'll try to hurt the Cullens if things go on like this much longer. She needs out—for their safety.
Jacob kisses her sloppily before leaving the room. He closes the door behind himself—not that that has ever stopped his brothers before. Bella closes her eyes and breathes slowly. She's not tired, but she is unsettled. Part of her is very pissed off at Edward Cullen for dredging up these feelings and messing with her life when she was just beginning to rebuild it. She didn't ask for this odd attraction to a crankypants vampire who doesn't even seem to like her half the time. But she can't deny the draw, how it feels when he touches her, the way his hungry black gaze spears her to the core. Nothing has ever rattled her so much, or drawn her in so completely.
And then there's Alice. She's never had a real friend before and she's not ready to give that up, either. Not for Sam—not for anyone. And that's now a problem. She can't keep doing this, constantly showering and lying and dodging questions like a cheating husband. She owes Sam nothing and feels no guilt for her actions with Edward, but she also acknowledges that the alpha will not see it that way. Therefore, for her own sanity and the safety of all involved, if she wants to keep seeing the Cullens she needs to make some choices.
This doesn't make her happy. She comes to Sam when she needs a break, not more responsibility on her plate. Realistically she understands this isn't Edward's fault, but she's grumpy and he ran away so she's left to deal with it on her own. So yeah, she feels perfectly justified in blaming him a bit.
And she also does not want to give up her wolves. Alice believes she'll change her mind, but she hasn't yet. These boys know her secret and they accept her, which is more than anyone else in the world has ever done. Other people watch her, like her, want her, maybe even love her, but they don't know her. She's not dumb enough to tell them the truth. But Sam knows, and that's a bond she doesn't want to lose. Alice means a lot to her, but so does the pack.
Heavy footsteps sound on the old wooden floor in the hallway. Their steady, purposeful beat tells Bella who it is before the door opens.
Speak of the devil.
His face is expressionless, but then, it usually is. Where Edward is overly emotional, Sam is a stoic until he's pissed off. He crosses to Jake's bed, pulls down the blankets with a careless tug, and lifts her as easily as if she were a toddler. She wraps herself around his steady, even warmth.
Sam buries his face in the side of her neck and inhales deeply. This is the moment of truth. Bella holds her breath, her fingers tightening on his back. Will Alice's scheme work?
"I hate that fucking swimming class," Sam grumbles. "You stink like chlorine. What will it take for you to drop it?"
Her breath whooshes from her in relief. "No go." That swimming class just saved her ass. No matter how much she hates it, she's keeping it.
He wraps his hand around her braid and pulls her far enough away to study her face. His observant black gaze travels from her hairline to her chin and back, taking in the bruise on her forehead, the tiny swollen nick on her lip. "You look worse after your girls' night than you do after a night with the pack."
"I'm clumsy. You know this." It's true, to a point. She's not a walking disaster, but she's not exactly the definition of grace, either. That episode in the woods proves it. Edward didn't put that knot on her head; she tripped on a rock and had a disagreement with a tree.
"I know, but I don't understand it. You're a succubus. Doesn't that mean you should be graceful?"
"It should. It doesn't. I am flexible, if that makes you feel better."
"Oh, I know how flexible you are." A small, dry smile touches the corners of his stern mouth, and his hand slides from her hair to cup a breast, squeezing firmly. She presses into his hot, rough touch, but even as she does she can't help wondering what a cold hand would feel like there, the chill contracting the nipple to a throbbing little peak. The thought makes her fire flare, which might make her feel guilty, except she's never felt shame for what sets her off or why, regardless of circumstance. It's just not in her.
She licks her lips. "Sam…" But here words fail her. She's still not sure what she wants to say. That she's leaving the pack for a family of vampires she's met exactly once while raving high on venom? That would go over like a lead balloon and might well end in blood.
That she wants to keep fucking the wolves but also maybe Edward? That will do nothing but paint a giant target on Edward's back when he returns to campus.
That she wants to get her own place while still remaining on good terms with the pack? That...has potential. She considers this option as Sam carries her out of Jake's room and up the next flight of stairs to his own. He closes the door behind them, and that door, unlike Jake's, will be obeyed. No wolf bothers their alpha when he's with her. Not if they want to live.
He sets her on his bed, and Bella watches as he swiftly undresses. He really is a good-looking man, though too severe to be called handsome. His rare smiles hold little warmth and he does not like to kiss or cuddle, but they've always had excellent chemistry. He knows how much she can take and he's not afraid to give it to her. She has no wish to risk that, not for Edward Cullen. She's fascinated by him, but she has no idea what he wants. She doubts even he knows what he wants.
The hissing sound of smooth leather as Sam slowly pulls his belt from its loops tells Bella what's coming. He bought her story and he's not irate, but he is irritated at her for disappearing last night and he plans to take it out on her.
She can definitely live with that. She rolls languidly onto her front, grinning into the bedspread. Sam wants to play? They can play. It might even help her clear her mind. She hides a grin, cuddling into his bed, one big brown eye and her pursed mouth pouting up at him.
"Has acting cute ever worked with me?" he asks, discarding his jeans but leaving his boxers. "You've been a bad girl and you know what that means." His deep, menacing alpha voice tells Bella all she needs to know. If he were really angry instead of mildly irritated he'd have phased rather than begun their version of foreplay. Her nipples tighten in anticipation and her fire flares hot. Sam's going to give it to her—everything she wished yesterday that Edward would but knew he wouldn't. Edward is fascinating, but Sam is constant. His responses to her never fluctuate.
"I haven't been bad," she insists, playing along as her cunt clenches. He's going to belt her, and she's so ready for it. She loves to be belted anywhere on her body, loves the stinging snap of impact and the thick line of fire it leaves zinging along her skin, but Sam's a traditionalist and usually keeps to her ass unless she asks for it elsewhere. She pulls her knees under her, lifting the tempting target higher.
"Fuck." He runs his palm roughly over the globes of her offered ass and pinches lightly. "Fucking perfect. You're like a wet dream come to life, you know?"
Yes, she really, really knows. His hand kneads and squeezes, slipping between her cheeks and dipping down to glide through the wetness leaking from her folds.
"Always so ready."
Yes, always. But he turned her on with the promise of that belt, so it's really his fault this time.
"You've been very bad," he says, his hand stroking between her legs as he returns to the subject. "You went home with someone else without telling me."
"Girls," she protests even as she watches him draw back. She hears the hum of his belt in the air. Her eyes snap shut an instant before it connects, fire lancing through her skin. She cries out, not caring whether anyone might hear. Pain flares, the stinging heat of impact and the deeper thud of the heavy belt as it bites hard into her flesh. Her buttocks quiver and shake at the shock of his force. He doesn't use his hand or softer blows to warm her up—she's not human and she doesn't need it, but that always means the first few strikes are a jolt. She gasps, her heart stuttering at the sharp bite of pain. Heat floods her body, a mixture of chemicals and a deep flame of desire that rushes straight to her cunt.
"Girls, yes, which is the only reason I don't have you tied open while I belt your cunt raw. But you still didn't tell me." His voice is even and controlled. He brings his hand down again, overlapping this strike with the placement of the last just enough to tell her he really is irritated and wants her to feel this. She does, yelping and gripping handfuls of his sheets convulsively as the pain bites hard and then spreads like fire. "You didn't text until well into the night, long after I expected you back. You were already drunk and making very little sense by that point." He draws back and strikes again.
Bella's breath leaves her lungs in a little whoosh and her fire blazes hot within her. She's never been able to explain this sensation to someone without a masochistic streak, how the pain still hurts but she craves it anyway, loves and hates it at the same time, and the rush of tolerating what others would find intolerable is its own heady little reward. Sam's big hand strokes over her ass, a wolfy rumble of pleasure leaving his throat as he feels the fire he's raised in her cheeks.
"I don't belong to you." Bella doesn't know how many times she's told him this. She belongs to no one. She lets him use her body because he's fucking good at it, but this is a transaction, the same as any other. They both get something out of it, and what he gets isn't ownership of her.
His belt comes down again, hard and unyielding. The vicious sting bleeds into an intense, throbbing warmth that fires through her. She wiggles her ass and shifts her knees apart, giving him a tempting view of where she wants him. She can't help her mind imagining how a vampire's strength compares to a wolf's, how a cold hand would feel slapping down on her round ass instead of hard leather. Her fire blazes hot at the thought. Oh, this is much better than sitting in class, wet from walking through a downpour, and much much better than potentially causing a war between the wolves and the Cullens. Sam can take his irritation out on her ass; she loves it. Her pussy clenches, aching to be filled. She wants something big spearing her deep, wants to feel his desire mingling with hers.
Sam's callused hand rubs over the welts he's raised, teasing the inflamed skin. She shudders at the pain that feels like tenderness from him. He lifts his arm and brings it down again with force, his belt biting deep. The sound of the impact is obscenely loud and so is her shout. He aimed for the lower, fleshy curve of her buttocks, striking just above the tender spot where she sits. She's going to feel that one for a while, and she relishes it. Her fists curl as sweat begins to prick her skin.
"Fuck me," she pleads. She wants something in her. Edward devoured her yesterday but he didn't fuck her and her cunt is angry as hell about that.
"Not yet. I'm not done. You don't seem to get the message yet." Sam rubs and chafes the wide red stripes his belt has left on her ass, his calluses scraping her baby-soft skin. She shudders as he kneads her firm ass roughly. It soothes the sting but irritates the welts at the same time. "You need to get this through your head, baby doll. I told you there were reports of leeches roaming around—not just the Cullens, but others. Why do you think we're out there patrolling at night? Because we like it?"
"Yes," she says, knowing this is the wrong answer and giving it deliberately—both to provoke him into belting her some more, but also because she does not like the way he lectures her like a child. "I think you like playing the big bad alpha wolf. I think you're just dying to have an enemy to fight."
The blow, when it comes, is the hardest yet, and swiftly followed by another. He belts her firmly, relentlessly, without a word. When her body breaks and begins to protest of its own volition, twisting to hide her burning ass from him, he puts a knee in the small of her back and continues. Bella sinks deeply into the wash of sensation, the pain mixed intensely with pleasure, sweat coating her skin. Her voice grates from her throat in hoarse little barks with each blow, and by the time he stops she's been teetering on the torturous edge of orgasm for so long she's hazy with need. She'd prefer he tied her up so she didn't have to work to stay still and could struggle against her bonds—he's just being fucking lazy. She turns her head to the side when he finally desists, opening one eye to glare balefully at him. She wants to fuck, wants him inside her and wants to come hard.
"Leeches are dangerous," he says, panting lightly as he tosses his belt down. "You think this is a joke, I know, because everything is either a joke or a fuck to you. But this is not, and I won't tolerate you forgetting it while you live under my roof. My rules are for your safety."
"Your rules are for your convenience," she corrects. That's decided it. She loves the way Sam touches her, but the minute any man pulls the "under my roof" bullshit it's time to bail. Plus, if he thinks his rules are for her own benefit he's lying to himself. "You're just pissed because I wasn't here to fuck last night."
His hand slips between her legs, stroking the swollen wetness, two fingers gliding easily inside her. "You want me to pound this pretty cunt?" His fingers slip so sweetly within her, reaching deep, then pulling back.
She parts her legs more. "Yes," she says, feeling desperate for just that. Fuck, she's so hungry. She wants him to fuck her until she's as delirious as Edward made her with one stupid kiss, as sated as she was after his mouth clamped down on her clit and his unexpected release rocked through them both.
"Then you listen. Do you hear me? How much pussy did you lick last night?"
"None." She squeals as his hand comes up to slap between her legs, a quick, hard snap. She's so wet that the sound is obscene. Her thighs clamp closed around his hand.
"Any other girl I'd believe. You, I don't know." He's still being playful for Sam, which means even if he suspects she had a full-on orgy with a dorm full of girls last night, he doesn't care. Typical man. He said he didn't want to share her outside the pack but of course girls don't count. He just doesn't want her around any other dicks, and that's how she knows his rules have nothing to do with her safety and everything to do with his peace of mind.
Which means it's time for her to go. Sam's being even more rigid than usual with vampires in the area and she wants no part of it. If she gets her own place near campus she can still fuck her boys but she won't be under Sam's roof and therefore subject to his so-called authority. He won't be happy, but there's nothing he can do about it.
"I didn't fuck anyone last night," she says, which is technically true, "but you can't tell me what to do."
"I can while you're living—"
"I'm moving." She flips over, her ass protesting but she can't have this conversation over her shoulder. "I can't do this. I'm sorry. I'll be on campus, I'll be around, but I don't do rules. Besides, you boys live like pigs. There's only so much of that I can take."
Sam's face betrays no emotion. His hands close over her waist and glide up her sides, fingers bumping over her ribs. His grip is as firm and warm as always. Bella watches him for any hint of what he's thinking. They've never tried this before. She lives in the house with the wolves until she gets fed up and moves on again. She doesn't settle in the area—at least, she never has before. Apparently she's trying something new.
"Bella…" His fingertips glide slowly over her nipple, which hardens on contact. "I can't stop you. You know I can't stop you. But this is a mistake."
"You can't protect me from mistakes." She's been making them longer than he's been alive. Longer than his parents have been alive. "I think it's better this way. Maybe I'll be able to stick around longer." She parts her legs in invitation, watching how his eyes snap to her swollen core. "Fuck me, please."
One side of his mouth quirks. "Always so hungry."
"Always," she agrees. She lifts a hand to touch his damp black hair. "I like you, Sam. All of you. But I can't be your pet. You know that." At least she hopes he does.
He exhales harshly through his nose. "I don't think this will work," he warns her.
"I'm leaving either way. I'd prefer to still be your booty call, but that's up to you."
He watches her for another moment before his body tenses. He flips her, and she squeals. He shoves her hips up and his cock finds her entrance as she moans, her own desire rushing back to her at the touch of a determined body on hers. It's white-hot and so fucking delicious and she sinks in relief back into this feeling. She was afraid for a moment that Sam would deny her, but it looks like she's won this round. His long cock enters her smoothly and she whimpers at the feeling. Sam prefers this position: maybe it's the wolf in him, or maybe he doesn't like fucking face to face. Right now she doesn't care. She hasn't eaten all day and she's hungry. Her hips rock to find the perfect angle where he rubs firmly against her g-spot. There. Right there. He fills her up so perfectly, stretching her deliciously. Her head falls forward onto the mattress and she exhales deeply.
"What am I going to do with my crazy girl?" Sam groans behind her.
She's not his. She's not even the pack's. And the only answer to his question is to let her go. Sam doesn't have a choice. Because, as much as she loves playing these games with him, she's beginning to see that maybe, just maybe, she does want more.
ANNOUNCEMENT: While I'm working and going to school is not the best time to be starting yet another project, but I've never been very smart about these things. This is my official announcement that on 26 June, a week from Saturday, something new is coming. No angst, I don't do that shit. It's full of filthy, twisted, absolutely depraved fun. Please bear in mind that I do mean twisted and I do mean depraved—it won't be for everyone. Darker than Deştepta? Yes. Dirtier than Deştepta? Probably. You'll have to tell me next week: see you then!
TEASER: She steps into a sunbeam illuminating a thick trail of mist hanging heavy in the air. The golden light gilds her body, turning ivory skin to pure gold. She glows, and she loves it. Her fair, fair skin refuses to hold a tan but as the golden early morning light kisses the hovering mist she looks like an ethereal fairy creature. A goddamn mythological queen. She stops moving for a moment, just a moment, though she knows she needs to keep up her pace. Her hands fall away from her breasts, fingertips tracing the sheen of glowing moisture down her firm abs. How many eyes are watching her now? From what angle? She has no idea, and while that thought used to creep her the hell out, suddenly it's so fucking hot. Some may call being objectified dehumanizing and it is, but right now it's pouring pride into her, or maybe bringing out hidden pockets she hadn't realized were there all along. She knows she's hot, but right now she feels...magnificent. Fucking transcendent. Her long legs gleam gold—hell, even her bare, tender mound glistens, velvet-soft and tempting, and she can feel how slick she is between her legs, the pulsing of blood throbbing low in her belly, deep inside. She's liquid-sweet and so fucking ready.
I'm judo_lin on twitter and I follow back fandom people as long as you're nice. :)