A/N: I rewrote the sex scene in this chapter. It's much better now, I think. For those of you who haven't read this chapter before- Surprise!
Yeah, this chapter is definitely in the M-rated territory.
Crushing Gravity
Chapter 30
Leah's POV
I hated my cousin. Ever since she got together with my ex-boyfriend, our relationship was in ruins. Before then, we were best friends, as close as sisters, but it all ended in a single moment- even if I didn't realize that it was that moment of introduction that was the downfall.
Because Sam Uley imprinted on my best friend, my cousin, the girl who was like my sister. In that single moment of their meeting, everything changed.
And I never really forgave either of them for it afterwards.
Until recently- when I felt it, too. After that, I couldn't really blame them for anything. I understood.
So, it's strange now, a year later, that I go to my once close cousin for advice.
The truth is, is that I am nervous. Everything with my imprint, who is a girl, is new and unfamiliar and has the potential for disaster. My relationship with Samantha is so very different than it was with Sam or any other relationship before him. It feels so very different, not just emotionally- but the physical aspect is like having my first kiss for the first time all over again from when I was fourteen.
In a way, it was my first kiss all over again. Kissing a girl is nothing like kissing a boy, especially not Sam Uley.
She's short, always having to rise up on her toes when we kiss, and I can envelop her completely in my arms. She's soft, her face always smooth under my fingers, with lips that mold with mine rather than smother them.
Her body is all gentle curves instead of hard ridges, and she just doesn't have that smell that all men seem to have.
I love the way her long hair spills through my fingers and gives me something so soft to clutch and draw her face nearer...
And it's because of these absolute differences, that I can't trust my few experiences with Sam Uley to know what to do when my girlfriend and I finally do the deed. Have sex. Make love (no matter how accurate that one is, it makes me cringe). I'm lost on what to do, except for general ideas that I'm not even sure how I know.
So, I find myself with Emily, sitting next to her on the couch like we used to always sit together, asking for advice on how to sleep with my girlfriend.
It is, of course, somewhat awkward at first and I loathe talking about my girlfriend in that context with someone who I was once hopelessly competing with. But she soothes my worries, suggests doing some research (which I've been doing since I fell in love with a girl), and Breaks off into awkward silence with me when her new husband walks into the room.
….
It's another anniversary (the second best day of my life after actually imprinting). It's the day Sam kissed me out in the woods, under the stars, and became my girlfriend. It might just be the day she becomes even more.
My heart thrums through every part of my body in nervousness and anticipation in my dim room, several candles casting shadows against the walls, flickering.
Sam's light blush is visible in the soft light, dusting her cheeks and turning the tips of her ears pink as she bunches my blouse in her hand. I trace her blush softly with my fingers as she remains still on my bed, curled into me.
I try to steady my nerves as I wait for her- I will not be the one to initiate this. It might not even happen tonight, and that's okay, too (I might even be relieved).
But then she looks up at me through her long lashes, with those eyes so green and expressive, and my mouth goes dry as my pulse leaps into my throat, and she kisses me.
She presses those smooth girly lips to my own, molding in a press of soft flesh that gives equally under the soft pressure, not one consuming the other. My hand slides from her soft, stubble-less, cheek into her hair, drawing her into me like a breath.
"Are you sure?" I ask, as I'll keep asking the entire time- not ever wanting to overstep.
"Yes," she breathes, sounding slightly winded.
So, I slowly draw my hand lower, tracing her shoulder, until I reach the back of her dress that she went to dinner with me in. Slowly, giving her time to change her mind (she can always change her mind), I draw the zipper all the way down to her lower back, ghosting my fingers over her cool skin.
"Is this okay?" I ask for clarification, pushing the straps from her shoulders to expose her modest bra clad chest.
"Yes," she exhales again, trembling as she fumbles with the buttons on my blouse.
Already, this is nothing like my first time with Sam Uley. With Sam Uley, it was rough and forceful, being pushed into things, ripping buttons, battling for dominance.
This is gentle. It's slow and tentative, exploring something that feels undeniably right. It's not about dominating, but submitting, willingly, everything to her and her me.
Our clothes fall away slowly until we are just cuddling and kissing in our natural skin, sneaking glances and caressing curves.
I trail my fingers from her rib cage, all the way down to her knee, and back up again as she hesitantly cups my breast. She's touched me there before, a few times actually, but never like this. I clench my legs together, trying to ignore the wetness between them for the moment.
"Are you sure?" I ask again, pulling back to stare at her, searching for anything that tells me to stop. I search the bond that I feel constantly warming my chest, that would tell me that this would hurt her if I continued.
"I'm sure," she says firmly, dragging her nail over my nipple. The bold action, as well as the sensation, clenches my core. My mind spins, trying to remember my plans, my preparation, trying to think of anything at all past what's actually happening right now, past the almost curious exploration of my girlfriend's lips over my neck.
One memory flashes, briefly- a half-baked precaution- and I sit up and tug at her until each of her knees settle on either side of my hips. She's never outright said it, but she's more comfortable this way- on top- in control. She uses all the practice she's had and kisses me very thoroughly.
She pets at my shoulders cradles my breasts, and trails her fingers down my stomach, but after a while, it becomes clear that she doesn't quite know what to do.
She pulls away and settles more firmly onto my lap, ass against my thighs and core pressing down against my abs. "I promise I won't break. You can touch me," she says, trying to catch her breath, so I finally do.
Slowly, I trail my fingers along her thighs, from knee to hip, then flattening my hand against her stomach and slide upward along her back. I turn all my attention to her, away from my own arousal and heady thoughts, and just toward making sure she's okay- that this is still what she wants. I imagine my touch wiping away all the others who were not welcome (I don't think about how that's just not possible).
Her breath hitches as I bend forward and lightly take a nipple in my mouth. One of her hands comes up to cradle the back of my head, the other drapes over my shoulder, lightly scraping her nails along my back as she rocks, once, against me. The scent of arousal hits me sharply- the evidence smeared against my stomach. I ache to close my legs, or rub something against my own center, but her sitting in my lap effectively has me pinned.
Spurred by her entirely positive reactions, I let my hand trail from the tops of her thighs, to the insides, and trace up toward her core. Her legs tremble on either side of me, and I pause, leaning back, just in case, to check her expression.
She meets my questioning gaze with wide, slightly panicked, eyes. I immediately start pulling away, ready to end this right now, but she catches my hand before I can get too far away. I wait, obediently, for her to tell me what she wants.
She licks her lips nervously, takes a deep breath, and presses my hand against the wet junction between her legs. She bites her lip, trembles, and rocks down against my hand. Slowly, cautiously, I stroke my fingers through her folds, further spreading her juices.
"Talk to me," I murmur, watching her eyes flutter and her breath hitch as I curl my fingers and search out her clit. "What's going on?"
"I've just-" she says haltingly, hips make aborted, jerking movements, each time I make a slow circle of that small bundle of nerves. "I've never-" she gasps quietly, and I watch eagerly at the speed of her pulse fluttering in her neck, "-never felt like this before."
Her head drops forward to muffle a soft moan against my neck. The sound sends a responding pounding straight to my sex, and I find myself squirming under my girlfriend.
"Have you ever," I find myself asking, swiping quickly through her folds again, collecting the fresh moisture there and quickly returning to make tighter circles, "had an orgasm? Have you ever," my breathe hitches in anticipation, "touched yourself?"
Her hips jerk, making my fingers slip and lose the ball of nerves.
She shakes her head, unwilling to lift her face from my neck, and I feel the scrape of her teeth as she lightly bites down. It's like she's trying her hardest not to make any noise at all, which only make me want to draw a few more like that almost-sound that originally caused her to bury her head.
I abandon the little nerve bundle to tease at her entrance. She's wet enough that she could take at least two fingers, and with the next unconscious undulation of her hips, I push them into her.
She stiffens immediately, spine snapping straight and teeth almost tearing a chunk out of my neck.
I rip my hand away quickly, as fast as I can as soon as I realize that this isn't right- that reaction- isn't right.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I apologize quickly, lifting both hands into sight but not touching.
She remains in my lap, ridged, with dead eyes, for several seconds, and after the second beat, panic suffuses through the entirety of my system. On the fifth beat, she comes back to herself.
She blinks several times, like waking up, and then her whole body slowly relaxes and uncoils.
"Sorry," she murmurs, and I hate that her first inclination is still to apologize. "I don't think… I like that last thing you did."
Penetration. "I won't do it again," I swear earnestly, bobbing my head. "I promise."
She relaxes further, and reaches out to brush her fingers along where she bit me hard enough to draw blood. It's already healing, though, and soon the only evidence left will be the blood left behind.
I cautiously let my hands, even the painted one, drop back to her bare thighs, and give a tentative squeeze.
"We can watch a movie," I suggest before she can try apologizing again. "And there's ice cream in the freezer. I got your favorite."
Her lips turn down slightly, and I mentally flip through some other options we could do.
"I…" she squirms slightly, and my libido jolts back to life in an instant. "I don't want to stop. I… really liked what you were doing before. Before that last part. Can we… keep going?" She started off strong, but by the end of her request, her face seems to sink into self-conscious doubt.
I wrack my brain about all the reasons she would sink into herself like that- and my fist, instinctive, reasoning is that she changed her mind. But I also know Sam by now. I know that she almost constantly is worried about what I think of her, and if I want her, and she worries that I might not want her anymore now that I know she's broken (she's not broken, just bent).
"Let's try it this way," I say after several moments of thought but before her expression could fall too much in rejection. I twist the upper half of my body, gathering all the pillows and piling them against the headboard.
Then twist the rest of my body, depositing my naked girlfriend among them, and I grin when it's sudden enough that she can't stop the gasping 'ah!' from escaping as her back arches, pebbled nipples jutting out into my face.
"Scoot back," I command, while sliding down her body. She does as I ask, scooting back until she practically sitting up while I lay, belly down, on the bed between her thighs. She looks down at me with wide eyes from her thrown (a princess among pillows), chest heaving. A fresh wave of her heady arousal curls in the back of my throat with each breath I take.
She doesn't like being on her back, but maybe this would be okay.
"Can I?" I check, brushing my lips against the inside of her thigh.
"Yeah. Yes. Um…okay," she nods jerkily.
I grin before slowly lowering my mouth to her center, never letting my gaze drop from hers.
At my first lick, she gasps and her hands fly to my hair, not the loose grip she held earlier, but I tight one that presses me more firmly into her sex. Her head falls bonelessly backward into the pillows as her legs clench, quivering, around my head.
Emboldened by that truly positive reaction, I wind my hands around her, clutching her to my mouth.
The only indications she gives me, that I'm doing something right, are the minute tightening of her fingers and the little huffs she does her best to muffle- but she positively keens when I wrap my lips around her swollen clit and lightly suck on it before flicking it with my tongue.
Even without loud, pornographic, moans and groans and shouts of 'yes, yes, don't stop!'s, it's still obvious when Sam reaches her climax.
Her breath stalls halfway on an inhale, her entire body arches out of the pillows, and one hand presses me firmly against her while the other flies from my hair to her mouth where she promptly bites down on her wrist. Her stomach and thighs spasm, I can feel her pulse against my tongue, and then all her muscles slacken and she falls limp back against the pillows.
I sit up slowly, taking the time to burn every sight, smell, feeling, into my memory. My entire body throbs in want as I look at my girlfriend, my mate, my imprint.
Her head lulls sideways, searching for me, and she looks at me with hooded eyes, cheeks flushed in a dark blush, and her raven hair is wild and sticking slightly to her for head with sweat. Her bare chest rises and falls with her near silent pants, and her loosened hands fall from my hair, as I sit up fully, to the tangled sheets.
It's the look in her lidded eyes, though, that that really makes me wet. The wonder and surprise and awe have a weight of their own in that trusting gaze.
I dip my head again, brushing my lips against her navel and trailing slow kisses up her stomach, flicking my tongue out to taste her salty skin along the way. When I finally reach her breasts, smooth and gentle round mounds, I tenderly take a hardened nipple into my mouth, relishing in the fact that she's actually letting me touch her like this. That she truly wants me to. Her hands again slip into my hair, but it's a far looser grip, more of a caress of encouragement.
When I meet her lips, she readily opens up to me with a soft moan so quiet that it could be mistaken for a sigh if I didn't feel it in my very core.
Our breasts brush, but an ever-present warning, caution, rings in my head- telling me not to smother her - she doesn't like that- she doesn't want to be dominated.
I pull back a little more, hands braced on either side of her hips. I look at her, and she still has that surprised wonder in her dark eyes.
"I-" she whispers. "... I didn't know it could feel like that."
I don't know what to say to that or how to respond, so I just stay silent, and offer an awkward feeling smile.
"Umm, should I..." Blushing, she bends her knee, bringing it up to press against my crotch.
Lightning zips through my already coiled stomach, and I almost come undone right then as my hips give an involuntary jolt against her leg. An odd whimper escapes, catching me unprepared as I clench my eyes shut, and my arms threaten to fold as they shake under me.
Sam gasps in surprise at my obvious wetness smearing her thigh, and I quickly look to her expression.
Her eyes are wide, and I almost start to feel ashamed before she bites her lip, and a coy smile spreads across her face.
It's an expression I've never seen on her before, and it only seems to grow as her confidence does.
...
"You're a fucking asshat."
I look up, completely startled, at the person who had just pushed into my room and crosses their arms, with a glare, in the doorway.
"I'm sorry?" I sputter, wide-eyed, as Sam kicks my door shut and strides over to spin my roll-y chair around to face her.
"An asshat. A big, fucking, Abraham Lincoln, top hat on a big fat, poop-stained ass. That's what you are."
"What did I do?" I ask, completely bewildered, as my girlfriend crawls onto my lap like she isn't yelling at me for something I'd presumably done- something bad enough to be labeled an asshat that hasn't been wiped.
Her glare only gets fiercer as she rests both her hands on my shoulders. A lump forms in my throat as her knees cage and press into either side of my hip. I've always noticed that she looks really hot when she's mad, but that doesn't mean I like it when she's mad at me.
"Why are you still here?"
I blink. "What?" This is only getting more and more confusing.
"Why are you still here?" She repeats. "I've talked to Seth, and your mom, and practically everyone else- and why are you still here when every single person I have talked to has said that all you've ever wanted to do is leave and go to college? I know you hate it here, Leah; you loathe working at the stop and shop, and going on patrols, and staying close to the reservation. Is it for me?"
Finally knowing what I'm in trouble for, I'm able to relax some, but not all the way- because Sam's glare is still full force and actually a little scary.
"Partly," I admit. "But even if you weren't here, I would still have to stay because of being Wolfe. I'm a protector of the tribe and it's my responsibility to stay and defend it."
Her face smooths into a blank one.
"I stand corrected; you're not an asshat. You are a doormat that all the other asshats and douchebags have wiped their feet on after stepping in dog shit." Her expression turns fierce again, only down a notch. "Who said? Who said that it is your responsibility? The elders? Sam? Well guess what? Jacob is your pack leader, and I talked to him, and he said you can go whenever you want. Do whatever you want. There are eleven fucking wolves on this reservation and it's not out of some destiny. It's because a tame vegetarian coven decided to live nearby, kicking in the wolf gene."
Some hurt insecurity starts in the pit of my stomach, crawling up to clutch at my chest.
"Stop that," Sam scowls in annoyance. "Stop feeling like that."
"What about you?" I ask lowly, trying to push my stupid feelings away. I know that she loves me and isn't just trying to get rid of me. "I don't want to leave you." My voice cracks.
Her face finally softens into a smile.
"Which is why I talked to Mrs. Fuller and my brother-"
"The adoption went through?" I ask, momentarily distracted in my excitement for her.
She slaps my arm lightly. "Stop trying to change the subject." Her lips twitch wider. "I talked to them and Lyla, and we decided that I'll finish out this year in school, and then I'll do senior year out in California. So, you better start studying for SATs and ACTs and filling out applications, because I'm going to California next year. You can't very well leave your imprint in a big scary city like that, can you?"
Excitement, real, adrenaline pumping, excitement starts in my veins.
"Really?" I ask, starting to smile wide. "We're really going?"
"If you can get into college," she teases. "And we can always visit during breaks, and if anything happens, we're just a phone call aw- mngh-"
I kiss her hard in joy, tugging on her waist to draw her closer as her initial tensing in surprise, relaxes again.
She rocks her hips gently against me, for no other reason than just to feel closer.
Sam is nowhere near ready for spontaneous, out of control, sex; she still cringes if I do something she's not prepared for, but that's not something that I want right now anyway.
This relationship is new, and different, and seems like the first relationship I've ever been in, but I know that we're going to be okay.
A/N: Even if you've already read this chapter before, let me know what you think. Was is better, or did you like the other version better?
Thanks for reading!
~Silver~