Paul's eyes roamed lasciviously from the narrow fragility of her bare ankles, all the way up to the infinite depths of her chocolate brown eyes. The emotions pouring from her were driving him wild with need, with fear, with quiet desperation. He could see the little shiver running all over her body, and knew that it was something she was probably trying to suppress, pushing forward a bravado that fell apart under close scrutiny.
They were standing in silence, the light fading from the room making her porcelain skin stand out, while his darkness began to shift into the shadows. She watched him as he stepped over to the bed, still not uttering a word as he turned on one of the dusty bedside lights, bringing a synthetic yellow glow to the room, the distance between them offering her mind a little reprieve.
"Tell me what you think about imprinting?"
Paul kept his back to her, giving himself just a moment to compose himself into something unreadable, knowing she would likely analyze this moment to death. He didn't let out the sigh that was psychosomatically building in his chest, nor did he slump down to the bed, physically displaying how he felt about this very question.
"I think that I don't know you and that makes the whole thing pretty fucking weird, don't you?"
Mulling over his words, she tried not to let her insecurities show, but standing in front of a man who made your head spin while standing half naked in a cabin, it was something easier said than done. "You should ask Leah about this, she has some pretty interesting theories you know." Bella felt a brief twinge of embarrassment to hear the older girl's name fill the room, but pushed past it to concentrate on the actual words.
"What do you mean?" Bella asked, hoping he wouldn't push the game and make her wait.
Sitting down again at the end of the bed, he lifted his hand, gesturing for her to go to him. She thought he would force her to lend her body to his pursuits again and then ask the question with a more muddled mind; but he didn't. He simply held her at arm's length, running his fingers down her goose-bump adorned arms.
"I didn't get it, I still don't really. I mean, from what I know about you, you're not exactly forceful." A hesitant smile broke through and he tried to find subtle words to describe the differences in their characters. "And well… I am. I thought if I needed something to balance me, it would be someone who would fight me, push against my barriers… someone more like Leah."
Bella wanted to take herself away to a dark room, to mull over what he was saying with clarity, but she didn't have that chance. Instead she had to try and push aside the feel of her fingers on her body, but it was becoming increasingly impossible. She'd never actually considered the imprint from his point of view and now it seemed very relevant all of a sudden.
"But she thinks that what I actually need is the opposite. Someone I have to be careful with, someone who won't take my shit and give me twice as much in return. Someone who needs to be protected and makes me think before I act."
He was done with words, done with talking about Leah and how he felt, and though she was in the middle of attempting to contemplate the endless possibilities, he still tugged her towards him without a care. He had expected the room to be filled with tension, but more of the sexual variety rather than the emotional.
It took about five seconds for her mental musings to officially turn to mush, the feel of his fingers on her skin too insistent to ignore. It was hard to count the seconds as he ran his hands over her bare stomach, keeping carefully between two poles and bringing her heart to a thumping beat with something that was fairly innocuous as far as his previous touches went.
When the numbers ran out and he'd only touched her in the most innocent of places, she stepped back from him with a look of uncertainty, before opening her mouth to speak again. Having already fallen down the trap of asking questions that were emotionally valuable rather than necessary, it was hard to stop now when the torrents were already engulfing her strides.
"How did you stay away from me?"
Bella had heard from Jacob when he'd spoken about imprinting, albeit before he'd actually experienced it for himself, that it was something hard to ignore, that the calling of your soul would draw you to that person even in the depths of your subconscious. It was hard to imagine Paul with such a weakness, but if it was true, he had kept his distance very well and seemingly quite easily.
"Sam only knew what he'd seen in the wolves from the old pack, and it was pretty fucking rare. We're talking two guys maybe out of twenty. Maybe we're all fucked up these days, maybe that's why we can't keep it together and need someone to stop us from going insane… Jared was different, Embry too I guess. Both of them seem to enjoy all this, to actually get a kick out of it. It makes sense that they don't need anyone else." He stopped for a moment, staring at her skin and she figured maybe it was Jared he was thinking about, something she wanted to ask him about, but wasn't sure if she actually had the courage.
"I was around more than you knew. I watched you at school, the Cullen's knew, maybe that's why they started showing an interest in you. I watched you at home too, but the Chief did me a favor when he forced you to stay home all the time; all I had to do was run a few miles out of my way, check you were still sitting in your room, listening to that bullshit music and it was all good. Fuck knows what I'd have done if you had a life."
He hadn't meant to be derogatory, or mean, but the honest jolt of his words still hurt none the less. It took all she had not to open her mouth and offer a plethora of reasons why her own company was preferable to that of others. Instead she dug her nails into the palms of her hands and stared rather blankly at his chest, hoping he was done.
Every swell of her emotions came his way, compounded by her proximity and the way her shoulders had risen, hiding her pain behind a feigned strength. He admired her, just for a moment, because although she was soft and sweet, innocence rolled into a fragile package, she was sometimes a contradiction to herself. It made him crave her and as he pulled her to him again, he knew that as the time gaps grew and her barriers fell, she would fall at his feet, each and every part of her.
She watched, enraptured, as he slid his wide hands across her stomach once again, but this time he strayed upwards with a hungered need, nothing tentative in his approach. Brushing his fingers over the soft, thin lace of her bra, she prepared herself, mentally berating herself for losing seconds as he lightly tugged the fabric down.
Only the tips of his fingers touched the sensitive peak of her nipple and as tingles of fire left a map of his touch on her skin, she lost a little strength in her knees.
He wanted to pull her to him, to rip the rest of the pointless material from her body and just stare at her, but he wanted her to want this, to crave his touch, his taste, his potential to drive her wild.
Tugging down the blue lace just a little further, he used his free hand to unclasp her bra, holding the fabric to her skin until the last moment.
He knew when his time was done as she raised her eyes to his, the focus in them lost for a moment as she forced herself to pull back from his spell. And just as she did, just as she steeled herself to her body's reactions, he pulled away, and the thin barrier fall away from her, slipping to the floor with a light thud.
Bella's hands went immediately to cover her bare breasts, and when he looked amusedly upon her attempt to hide herself from him, she stopped her hands in midair. He was stronger than her, more resolute too, and so she didn't even put up the pretense that she knew would crumble in moments.
"Why did you leave Sam's pack?" It was one of her more thought induced questions and as she released it, she found Paul looking at her almost quizzically.
It took a few slow moments for him to respond, and as he stood, his hands reaching out to wrap around the base of her spine, so low that she could feel him through the lace of her panties, she opened her mouth to chastise him.
"I left for you." He whispered in her ear, his breath sending sparks flying where it fluttered over her skin. Mentally she tried to keep her attention on the countdown, as his hands pushed down the edge of her panties. A rush of sweet blood filled her cheeks when she realized he intended for her to be completely exposed, while he stood in more clothes than he wore on a regular Tuesday.
She hadn't really thought of herself as an active participant in these moments before, but as he nibbled and sucked his way down her skin, from the lobe of her ear to the roll of her shoulder, she pushed her fingers under the hem of his light cotton t-shirt.
His muscles rippled back and forth under her touch and though it was hard to think of anything beyond the feel of him, she tried to keep a piece of herself attached to the numbers rolling backwards. It was almost impossible, as she lost count for the third time in only ten seconds. The small increments had been easy, but at that time her blood hadn't been flowing like a mess of angry rapids, and her breaths had been coming in steady sensible pulls, not in the ragged shallow excuses they were now.
His hands felt heavy on her skin and as he pushed down her panties and gripped her ass firmly, her eyes fluttered shut, acknowledging the influence he possessed.
She forced herself to gather some semblance of control, if only for one more shot in the dark. And as he lowered his head, sucked her nipple into his mouth and bit down hard, regardless of how long it had been, she felt what she knew would be her last question pouring from her lips without any censor.
"Am I the only one?"
It had a worry that troubled her all day, but she'd told herself that she was strong enough not to ask. However, in the moment, it seemed her subconscious had proved to be stronger and more mindful than she expected, and as he pulled back, his eyes were darker and more intoxicating than she'd ever seen them before.
"Isabella Swan…" He began, as he stalked her backwards, the edge of the bed hitting the back of her knees forcefully, forcing her body down before him.
"You're what I dream about when I sleep." He stated, lifting his shirt over his head and discarding it easily as he kneeled between her knees, pushing them open to accommodate the size of his body.
"You're what I jack off to in the shower when I wake up." He growled, the rise of his lips letting her know he was still himself, still capable of being crude and arrogant, and worst of all, knowing she would berate him, blush tirelessly, but ultimately endure it.
"You're what I breathe," He added, his fingers wrapping around her neck firmly, gripping for just a moment before he moved them south, touching every rise of her skin with a harsh reverence. They moved slowly down past her breasts to her stomach, feather light swipes of flesh as he memorized her thoroughly for the first time. He could already feel how much she wanted him, how much she wanted this. But as he pressed his fingers lower, pushing her legs further apart with his other hand, he brushed over her, confirming just how wet she was for him.
Her desire was too much and though he'd planned to go slow, he all but ripped away the last vestiges of his clothes.
His breath was coming harder and faster, the numbers in her mind swallowed by the sight of him before her. The width of his shoulders, the ripple of his russet muscles, the pure sweltering heat of him that enveloped her in a deliciously warm haze. It was all a little too much, and when he dipped down low, pressing the length of his body against hers for the first time, she gasped.
He'd proven time and again that he was ruled by his instincts, and as she felt the tip of him poised at her entrance, she was too lost in the feel of him to wonder whether this was all happening too fast. Because of her, he managed to hold back slightly, to not just pound into her. Because of her, he took her as slowly as he could, resisting the animal inside who begged him to turn her over, to slam eagerly into her hips, making her beg for less, and then more.
But he couldn't hold himself back for long, and when he saw the pain of being her first wash away, he began to move again. The feeling of him, the gut pleasing warmth of being filled by him turned out to be pleasant, but there were no fireworks, no climactic rise and no end filled with blissful pleasure.
Paul knew as she gripped her little thighs around his hips, urging him forward, that it was almost impossible for him please her, not when he needed her so much. But as he let go, let everything ebb away and finally embraced what she was and would be for him, he nuzzled her neck, making promises he silently swore to keep, answering her at last.
"You're the only one I want."
"You're the only one I'll ever want… because you're the only one I can't live without."
a/n: Thank you to my wonderful beta, Twiticulate... I think it's important to note that I made a lot of last minute changes in this chapter and so any errors you find (as is always the case anyway) are mine, and mine alone.
I've spent the last fifteen minutes going back and forth over whether I should put some justification here for my choices in this chapter, but I've decided against it at last. I will say that this was actually very difficult to write and so if you can't understand why I've taken this route, please let me know and I'll be happy to discuss this with you in depth.
xxx