Chapter 5: whispering your name like I'm taking a vow
In light of your magnetic touch
I'm so stuck, just my luck
It's falling by the wayside when you're around
I'm whispering your name like I'm taking a vow
I need you when my heart rate races and pounds
I wish that I was somewhere that I was
Safe and sound
Over in No Time – Babygirl
His lips were on hers before she had time to respond to his confession. He couldn't wait.
The magnetic pull he felt toward her body overwhelmed him and his hands encircled her waist, palming her lower back over the silky fabric of the robe. He held her tightly in place, letting his lips search hers, seeking the stillness, the satiation that had eluded him all night.
It took a brief moment for Betty to reciprocate, but her hands were soon cradling his face, kissing back with a delicate intensity.
She opened her lips to him and he swept his tongue inside. He wanted her taste buds on his. He wanted to shower attention on every crevice of her mouth.
Jughead swirled his tongue with hers, identifying the sugary tang of spiked prom punch leftover on her papillae. It tasted sweet and fruity, and had him groaning with desire to sample every inch of flavor her body had to offer.
"I want you," he practically growled, his fingers itching to disrobe her and touch her skin.
"I want you, too," she whispered back against his mouth. "I have for so long, Jug."
Betty momentarily broke away from the kiss, her fingers tracing his jawline, as she forced him to meet her gaze.
"I've had a crush on you since I was 14," she revealed, her eyes filled with self-conscious mirth at the admission. "Do you remember when I asked you to be my first kiss?"
Jughead nodded, a ghost of a smile alighting on his lips. He felt as if he were melting.
"It's always been you, Jug," she murmured, nuzzling her nose against his.
He closed his eyes, the longing inside him almost too much to bear. She was so open with him, so honest. Envy burned in his throat that he couldn't find it in himself to offer her such vulnerability back. He yearned to tell her he'd had feelings for her for just as long, if not longer. But his mouth couldn't form the words. It was too dangerous, too pregnable.
He simply kissed her again, letting his hands speak for him as he untied the knotted sash around her stomach and slowly pushed the fabric from her shoulders.
The kimono fell in a heap to the floor.
Jughead's breathing hitched as his restless hands came into contact with her smooth naked flesh.
All at once, his fingers were crawling over every groove of her body—stroking up and down her arms, kneading her breasts, skimming her curves. Betty's skin was like pure silk. Anywhere he touched was wondrous.
Betty clasped at his neck, her legs wobbling in the delicious frenzy of his eager kisses and wandering caresses. It seemed at any moment she could lose her balance and fall. Jughead quickly seized hold of her back, stilling her shivering frame and walking them purposefully to her bed.
He lay her back against the sheets, stopping his impatient exploration of her body only to wrestle off and discard his t-shirt. Once shirtless, he returned to hovering over her.
Her hands lifted up to trace against his abdominal muscles, his Adam's apple vibrating at her gentle touches.
"You're so ridiculously good-looking," she whispered to him sheepishly, looking up at him between hooded eyes.
Jughead smirked at the compliment, his sense of confidence and authority returning in full force. He gazed down to ogle her naked body, his mouth watering at all the glorious exposed skin.
"You're fucking beautiful, Betts," he replied.
He bent down to capture her lips in his once more, relishing in the feel of his bare chest now tamped against her soft, full breasts. The kiss was hot and demanding, and Betty rocked her body against his in response, her legs instinctively coming up to wrap around his waist. The feel of her burgeoning arousal straining against his cotton boxers for relief reminded him of where his sinful mouth yearned to go.
As he moved his lips to suck on her pulse point, he lowered his hand to her calf, loosening the grips of her legs from around him.
He started to kiss down the length of her body, stopping to lavish attention on every exquisite curve. He suckled each nipple until it pebbled, before diving lower and kissing a halo around her belly button. The blonde writhed under him, the ache stirring in her center palpable.
Jughead moved down further, teasing her by skipping over her glistening center and instead latching his mouth onto her inner thigh.
Betty whimpered as his teeth began to nibble a lavender bruise into her skin, the scent of her wet heat filling his nostrils and clouding him in a deeper haze of arousal.
Jughead had developed something of a fetish for going down on his sexual partners. Of course, a healthy appetite and love for eating came naturally to him. More psychologically, though, the action made him feel powerful, in control, a sensation always at arm's length in his daily life. Beneath the sardonic, brooding intellectual he successfully presented to the world most days hid an insecure little boy with abandonment issues. He was self-aware enough to know that steering someone else's pleasure, making her hang on every slip of his tongue, was a kind of overcompensating. But that didn't mean it wasn't also gratifying as hell.
He was dying to taste Betty now. But he wanted her to be certain. He could tell she was nervous. Her whole body was trembling.
"I want to kiss you everywhere," he said softly, his tongue licking tenderly over the teeth marks he'd left indented into her skin.
She drew in a quivering breath at his words.
Jughead gazed up at her from his spot kneeling between her legs. He carefully started to spread her thighs wider apart with his fingers.
"Do you trust me?" he asked.
She bit her plump lower lip, nodding hesitantly, seemingly unable to speak. He could see the honesty shining back from her eyes, though. She wanted this, too.
"I'm going to make you feel so good, baby," he promised sweetly, hoping his oath was more than enough to ease her mind.
He licked his lips before reverently bowing his head before her already dripping center.
Jughead ran the tip of his tongue lightly over her slit, the action immediately making Betty thrash wildly against him, her thighs clenching around his head.
He kissed her clit softly to calm her, his hands finding her hips and holding them gently in place. "Relax," he told her, his voice impossibly tender. "Just enjoy it. I've got you, okay?"
She nodded again, murmuring a soft, "Okay."
He nudged her legs apart again, resuming the earlier motions of his tongue and licking leisurely up her entrance.
Betty tasted incredible. The traces of her vanilla body wash mixed with her natural musk formed a delectable, intoxicating nectar and he couldn't stop savoring it. He lapped at her juices like he was starving for them. Which honestly he was. It had been a long time since he'd gone without dinner on purpose. And if Betty was going to serve as his main course tonight, he was planning to feast like a king.
Switching up his motions, he peeked the tip of his tongue inside her and rolled it around her inner walls, loving the little squirm it prompted from the blonde.
"Oh," she gasped, her fingers curling desperately into the sheets by her side.
After another minute of assiduously tasting her, Jughead reluctantly removed his tongue from inside her, lifting it up to swirl in an orbit around her inner labia before zeroing in on Betty's clit.
His tongue flicked a series of circles over the sensitive bundle of nerves, before wrapping his lips around the nub. He suckled it gently at first and then slowly more intensely, until he was ravishing her as if his life depended on it. The suction against her swollen clit nearly threw Betty over the edge and he could feel her body start to pulse in delirious anticipation.
"Jug," she whined breathily.
Her moans were like honey to his ears. Thirsty for more and more of her, he continued his oral ministrations, his lips slurping feverishly.
Her fingers were soon threading through his raven hair, digging into his scalp, her hips bucking furiously against his mouth the harder he sucked.
"Jug, oh fuck, Juggie…I...ohhh," she cried out, unable to contain her moans as she spiraled toward her orgasm.
Pleasuring Betty to such heights it made her curse, a normally rare occurrence, filled Jughead with a flush of masculine pride. He was the only one to ever make her splinter apart like this.
He continued licking her fervidly through each primal rush of pleasure that coursed through her, until she gradually came down from the high, her body trembling in the afterglow.
After a few more soft kisses to her clit, Jughead crawled back up her body, his moistened lips coasting over hers.
"Did you like it, Betts?" he asked, each syllable blanketed by a delicate, lingering peck.
"Mmm," she purred against his mouth, "So much, Juggie. You made me feel so good. "
He rewarded her correct answer by moving his lips down to her clavicle and gliding a trail of kisses and teasing bites up her neck.
She licked her lips as he nipped at her skin. "Is that what I taste like?" she whispered.
"Yes, baby," he murmured, nuzzling her earlobe with his nose, his lips dancing against the underside of her jaw. "So sweet."
He found her mouth again, kissing her thoroughly, so she could taste all of herself on him. When he finally broke away, she was panting, her lips wet and swollen.
She reached a hand up to his cheek. "Can I taste you, Jug?"
He felt his cock hardening, wildly excited at the thought. "Do you want that, baby?"
It had been a while since the last really enjoyable blowjob he'd received (Tabitha not having been the most indulgent, at least in that department), and the idea of Betty's perfect pink lips around him as he trained her on what he liked nearly had him blowing a gasket.
"Yes, please," she sighed.
He quickly flipped them over, so she was straddling him. She impulsively rubbed herself over him, the arousal from her still wet center staining a spot of moisture on his boxers.
"Take them off," he commanded.
She scampered off him and onto her knees, her hands grabbing the waistband and pulling the offending fabric down his legs.
Betty smiled shyly as he bobbed free, bending down to leave a butterfly kiss on his tip. The minx-like gesture had his cock twitching eagerly.
She situated herself between his legs and looked up at him for approval.
He nodded, swallowing down a gulp at how sexy she looked, readying herself to get him off. "Take me in your mouth, Betts," he murmured.
She opened her mouth and formed a perfect circle around his tip, pressing her lips down softly. The first feel of her hot, wet mouth on him already had him shuddering. It was heavenly, almost too much. And then she started moving.
Her first motions were tentative, but she quickly found a rhythm, tightening her lips and slinking her mouth up and down his cock, sucking him like a sugary treat she couldn't get enough of.
"As far back as you can go," he instructed, although it undeniably came out as more of a plea. His eyes were already fluttering open and shut at the sensations surging through him.
She opened her mouth wider, taking him in further and deep-throating him.
"Oh fuck," he groaned, as she bobbed her head so his tip pressed against her tonsils, her tongue continuing to slither up and down his shaft.
Leave it to Betty to also be a natural at giving head, he sighed in wonderment.
"Can you use your hand, too, Betts?" he moaned in request.
His previous girlfriends had been reluctant to do this, claiming to find it unpleasantly icky. But Betty didn't even think twice.
She momentarily released him from her mouth, her graceful hand stretching out and pawing gingerly at his cock.
"Whoa," she gasped in delight, as she felt how rock hard he was, coated heavily in her saliva.
He couldn't help but smirk, his hands running through her blonde locks and directing her beestung pink lips back over his shaft.
She continued to work him up and down with her mouth, her hand curled into a fist and stroking him in tandem.
Jughead was so close, he could feel his brain cells dissolving.
"Fuck, baby, please don't stop," he hissed, his fingers pulling at her hair, keeping her mouth locked in place so his soaking wet cock and the dizzying pace she was sucking at wouldn't turn her grip sloppy.
He jerked uncontrollably, a series of guttural groans spilling out of his throat as his orgasm overtook him.
Jughead exploded in her mouth, his whole body convulsing as he climaxed. Betty slurped at the liquid that shot out, holding it in the back of her throat, until she slowly released his cock from her mouth. And then she swallowed.
It was so fucking hot.
He groped for her body, pulling her back flush against him and kissing her hungrily until both of them were completely breathless.
Their needy kisses eventually slowed, their mouths and bodies still glued together as they both struggled to regain their breathing.
Eventually, he felt her sliding off him and crawling further down the bed. She curled into his stomach, her naked body crooking perfectly against his.
Her head rested on his chest, her ear pressed tight against his heartbeat as if she were listening to ocean waves from inside a seashell. Jughead instinctively placed his hand in her hair, his fingers getting lost in the tousled strands. A few blissful minutes passed.
This was nice, he thought. Warm and intimate, yet his body still tingling in excitement from her nearness. He felt good, comfortable. Calm all over. Until, in an instant, he didn't.
Panic suddenly bloomed through his chest. Suffocating him to the point he almost couldn't breathe. How had he done this again? What was wrong with him? Archie would kill him if he found out. Or Fred. Alice especially.
And Betty? Didn't she merit better than these clandestine trysts he immediately half-regretted? Better than him? A screwed-up kid who had grown up in a trailer park and could easily wind up back there. The son of an alcoholic father who'd virtually neglected him and an uncaring mother who'd deserted him without a second thought. A man who like a real pathetic chip off the old block ran to drink whenever he was too afraid to deal. A man who couldn't even begin to convey the depths of his feelings to the girl he lo—hell, he couldn't even say the word.
A girl like Betty deserved the moon, and he barely had stardust to offer her.
God, he disgusted himself.
The bitterness ate him up from the inside, toxic wormwood sucking down everything good around it, leaving behind a rotting mess.
Jughead hurriedly shook her off him, pushing her against the pillow instead.
"I should head back to my room," he said, sitting up and angling his body away. He could barely look at her.
Betty raised a hand up to stroke his back. "It's okay," she said, smiling through her yawn, not understanding. "You can sleep with me in my bed. I don't mind."
She didn't fucking get it. He couldn't be here anymore. He couldn't risk it. In any shape or form. Not only were they likely to get caught—by her parents, by Archie if he showed up at home early—thereby ruining his relationship with the only functioning family-like people in his life. But his weak emotional constitution was in no shape to last through the night pretending they could ever be together, only to wake up next to her in the morning and know the truth. That she would never be more than his fantasy. That he was too damaged. That he didn't deserve her.
"No," he protested, his voice forceful, colder than he knew it had any right to be. "We…this…we made a mistake, Betty."
"Jug," she said, the pain and confusion in her eyes stabbing him straight into the gut.
But he couldn't waver now. He'd already succumbed to too much tonight.
"We're just friends and this can't happen again," he muttered, as he rose and began to pace her pink carpeted floor, hastily slipping on his boxers in the process. "It shouldn't have happened to begin with."
He looked back at her, her irises now filling with an emotion closer to anger. She awkwardly grasped at the sheets to cover herself. Not out of shame, he intuited, but purposefully to conceal her body from him. He understood he didn't warrant even one further glimpse of her beauty.
"It's my fault, I know," he continued, hoping this might appease her. "I shouldn't have come in here tonight. Or kissed you the other afternoon. I took advantage."
But if he thought admitting responsibility would alleviate his predicament in some way, somehow quell Betty's desire to argue this out with him, he was dead wrong.
"Where is this coming from, Jug?" she asked, her voice insistent, demanding an answer.
He didn't have a good one. Not one he was capable of openly sharing with her. He simply shrugged uncomfortably. "It's just the reality, Betty," he said, keeping his tone chilly, distant.
Unsatisfied, she tried pleading with him next. "Juggie, why are you saying all this?" she questioned, those green doe eyes nearly breaking him. "Why are you trying to push me away?"
"I'm not," he denied fiercely, fully aware he was lying through his teeth.
Fuck, he screamed inwardly. It seemed the only way he would be able to get her to back off was to outright hurt her. He didn't want to, but he didn't know what else to do.
"Jesus, Betty, it was just a hook-up," he scoffed. "It didn't mean anything. I know you don't have much experience with guys, but I really didn't think you were this naive."
Utter silence descended on the room for a minute. He didn't dare look at her as he awaited her inevitable response. When he finally couldn't take it anymore and haltingly lifted his eyes up, Betty shot him the most withering glare, her pupils narrowed into slits.
"You know, Jughead, you sound like a man trying to convince himself of something he doesn't believe in his heart," she spat.
He blinked in bewilderment, recognizing the words but not immediately able to place them.
It took him another moment to realize Betty was quoting to him from "Casablanca" and he blanched. Of course, she remembered it was one of his all-time favorite movies. She'd even asked him to take her to the Twilight's midnight showing of it the summer before, knowing how much he loved it. He could recall every detail about that night. The two of them together under a sea of stars. Betty's leg pressed lightly against his under a threadbare flannel blanket. The cab of his dad's old truck. Their hands nearly touching for the entirety of the film. Even though technically he'd still been with Jess then, he'd wanted to kiss her so badly. He never worked up the courage to actually do it, though.
Jughead flinched now at the barbed reference. She'd managed to twist the knife in that much deeper with just one perfectly deployed swipe.
"Betts," he said, dropping the hands he hadn't even noticed were clenched against his waist. His tone softened, an immediate sense of regret gnawing away at him.
He didn't know what the hell he was doing. How could he have even said that? Of course, she meant more to him than just some trivial fuck buddy. He wanted her. All he'd ever wanted was her. But he was paralyzed. He couldn't even begin to contemplate attempting to penetrate the internal barricade that had for so long prevented him from pursuing the possibility. He just couldn't. It was too terrifying.
Betty glowered at him, waiting, snickering mirthlessly when he wouldn't even offer her a crumb.
"If you want to go, Jughead, just go," she said coldly, turning her back to him.
One look at her stonily facing the wall told him there was absolutely nothing he could do to remedy the situation now.
Guilt-stricken, he slunk back into his room through the bathroom, feeling like the biggest asshole in the world.
