Chapter Twelve

From Here to Eternity

Author's Note: This chapter is an example of smut without much story...just thought that I ought to give you a head's up. Also, I took the chapter title from the film of the same name, having found a good deal of inspiration in the iconic scene between Burt Lancaster and Deborah Kerr.

Lilah's POV

The beach was very serene tonight, quiet, save for the sound of the waves gently hitting the sand. I didn't know why it was that I was drawn to the ocean, I'd always been terrified of water surrounding me, and had never learned to swim, but for whatever reason, I found that I couldn't stay away. I waded out into the surf, sucking in a deep breath as the cold water enveloped me, first my ankles, then my knees, until I was covered to my waist. I stood still and let calmness take hold of my body, running my hands on the surface of the water, marveling over the fact that I wasn't scared, not at all.

I'd done my best to help back at Billy's house, but the truth of the matter was that I didn't know him very well. I knew that as Paul's imprint I belonged there, I was part of them now, but I hadn't felt comfortable hugging Billy, the way that I would have someone I knew well, and with all of the others around he had plenty of support. I thought that maybe I could cook something, offer my assistance that way, but there had already been several casserole dishes brought to the house, food enough to feed everyone, and after a while I decided that I needed to take a walk, to get some fresh air.

It wasn't just the need for a breather, or my slight uneasiness that had brought me to the beach; I'd also gotten away in the hopes that it would help Paul somewhat. He'd wanted so badly to stay with me, undoubtedly his blood had been pumping just as fast as mine, but the need of the pack had to come first, and that meant staying near Billy, offering solidarity and support. For some stupid reason I thought that it might help him if I went away for a little while, out of sight, out of mind, you know? What I hadn't considered was the fact that I was always on his mind, which meant that he'd want me always in his sight, a fact that became clear to me when I heard him calling my name from the beach, the tone of his voice leaving me in no doubt of the fact that he was more than a little pissed off.

I turned to answer him, instantly irritated by the fact that he was irritated at me and promptly lost my footing, falling beneath the water. Any other person would have thought to take a deep breath before they hit the water, but me being the way I am, I took that gulp when I hit the water, resulting in me breathing in the ocean, rather than oxygen, and panic hit me immediately, making me flail around as thankfully my feet found the sand once more. That was a comfort, to know that I was on somewhat solid ground again, it didn't however help the fact that I was gulping and croaking, doing my best to breathe, frantic and hysterical as I stumbled around in the water.

One would think, considering the fact that I was his imprint, that Paul would be worried about me, would help me in any way that he could, but also that he'd remain calm, that he wouldn't crash through the water and pick me up rather roughly, tossing me over one shoulder as he made his way back to the safety of the beach, scolding me like I was a small child the entire time.

"I don't know what in hell you were thinking," he fumed, bouncing me along on his shoulder like a demented fireman. "I guess that's why you decided to do something so freakin' brainless, huh? Oh, wait...I know...Because you weren't thinking, am I right?"

Now that was pushing things a little too far, damn it. I was willing to admit that it hadn't been the smartest thing in the world for me to do, wading out into the ocean, knowing that I couldn't swim, but it was his fault that I'd stumbled in the first place, so why should I be blamed for what happened?

"I am not...oomph...brainless," I hissed, my body jolting here and there as I struggled to keep from falling to the ground. "I just wanted to wade into the water...oomph...a little ways, and then you came...oomph...along and scared me."

He stopped so suddenly that I would have been pitched headlong into the surf, had he not clamped one large hand onto my backside, holding me firmly in place. "Are you suggesting that this was my fault?" he asked quietly, dangerously. "The only thing I did was call your name, to get you out of the water before you drowned, which you damn near did anyway. You were the one who tripped over your own feet, Delilah, so I don't know where you get the nerve to blame me for your clumsiness."

It was a close race what it was that made me react the way that I did. First, he refused to take responsibility and admit that I never would have stumbled if he hadn't startled me. Secondly, there was the entire issue of him thinking that he had the right to tell me what to do, like he was my father or something, when I was the older one. And lastly, and more than likely, more damningly, he called me Delilah...and I hated to be called Delilah...which is why I chose to dig my fingers into his hair, pulling it as hard as I could, in addition to biting down, hard, on the nipple that was hovering by my lip. It seemed like a good idea at the time...who would have thought that he'd get so mad?

I had expected him to shout, then to drop me, which would have been painful, but I'd been bargaining on jumping up and running for my life a split-second after I'd hit the sand, what I hadn't counted on was him bringing his hand down on my bottom with enough force to make me yelp, not just once, but twice, the stinging pain strong enough to bring tears to my eyes. "That...hurt...Delilah," he growled softly. "Don't...ever...do...that...again."

He had some nerve, the bastard, to even mention the word hurt to me. I'm sure his scalp and nipple had suffered, but he healed quickly, and I didn't, which meant that my ass was going to be throbbing for the rest of the night. For several moments we stood there in the surf, me still flung over his shoulder, biting my lip in a desperate bid to keep myself from crying, when finally he sighed, a deep, weary sort of groan, and gently lowered me to the ground.

I looked down at the sand, at the water splashing against my feet, to my left, then to my right, anywhere and everywhere that didn't include looking at him, because I was humiliated and upset and because I knew that he was staring at me. It did no good to try and hide from him, because he didn't seem inclined to leave anytime soon. It wouldn't have been so bad if I'd been able to keep my composure, but no matter how hard I tried I couldn't stop the tears from welling in my eyes, and my damn bottom lip wouldn't stop trembling either, no matter how hard I bit it.

"Look at me sweetheart," he whispered, his voice soft now as his temper faded. How like him to flare-up so quickly and then cool down in an instant, expecting me to do the same. "Please don't cry Lilah...I'm sorry, okay? I never should have lost my temper like that. Oh damn baby...please don't cry. I can take anything else but that."

His voice made my lip quiver even more, and the tears in my eyes refused to stay put, or even better, go away, when he put his hand on my cheek, his thumb wiping away one drop, then another as they coursed down my face. "Oh, come on sweetheart...pull my hair again, bite me if you want to, hell, do anything, just stop crying, ok?"

If I'd really wanted to make him pay I could've let go with the waterworks, could have given him a show of what it really looked like when I let myself go, but I detested women who did that sort of thing, as a bid for sympathy or for payback, and I did my best to reign in my emotions, sniffling and wiping my eyes, still refusing to look at him.

"Ah, baby," he whispered, placing his hand beneath my chin, raising my face, entreating me to look in his eyes. "I'm a bastard, okay? I shouldn't have scared you, and I shouldn't have gotten angry. It just scared the hell out of me, knowing that you were in danger, but I never should have taken it out on you."

I was still holding onto a tiny bit of determination to stay mad at him, that and my hurt feelings, my throbbing backside made that pretty easy, but then I went and looked in his eyes and my resolve went right out the window. There was sincerity in his gaze, honest contrition and concern, and my temper was no match for all of that emotion.

"Am I forgiven?" he asked, bending his knees, bringing his eyes down 'til they were level with mine. "Or would you rather stay mad at me for a little while longer?"

I would have liked to have been able to stay mad at him for a week, at least, just to make him suffer, but that was an unrealistic notion, considering the fact that I couldn't even manage to stay mad at him for five minutes. "I suppose so," I answered, sniffling away my residual tears and hurt feelings. "I can't say that I like you very much right now, but I suppose I'll have to forgive you, considering the fact that you apologized...that and because I love you, for some stupid reason that's beyond my comprehension right now...that and I bit you and pulled your hair, which means that I owe you an apology as well. Does your boob still hurt?"

That was one last barb on my part, knowing how much it annoyed him for me to refer to the "pecs" that he was so proud of, as "boobs", no doubt bringing to mind those whose chests weren't nearly as muscular or sexy as his. His eyes twinkled dangerously at me for a moment, but then he started to smile, a familiar smile that caught me in the same spot that it always did, weakening my resolve and my ability to successfully operate as a smartass.

"What do I have to do to make you like me again?" he asked softly, his hand reaching to rest on my cheek, his thumb stroking my lower lip.

I wanted to tell him that there was nothing that he could do that would make it possible for me to like him again, but that would be a lie, and he'd know as well as I did that I was being less than honest.

"You could try to be nice to me," I answered, regretting my words as soon as they were out of my mouth. The truth was that he was almost always nice to me, so what I'd suggested would give him the idea that I thought I was mistreated by him, but instead of looking angry, or hurt, he continued to smile, placing one arm around my back, the other behind my knees, lifting me from my feet once more.

"Yeah, I suppose I could do that," he whispered, kissing first one of my cheeks, then the other. "It's never really been in my nature, the whole 'nice guy' thing, but I could make an exception for you, sweetheart."

He continued to press gentle kisses onto each of my eyes, onto my brows, then the end of my nose, finally my chin, moving achingly...and infuriatingly...slow, teasing me until I was ready to scream with frustration. "Will you just kiss me already?" I hissed, twining my fingers in his hair, doing my best to pull his lips closer to mine.

"I thought that I already was," he answered, trailing his mouth along my jaw. "Or am I mistaken in that belief?"

The wiseass knew what I was talking about...a real kiss, not this soft stuff that was sweet and touching, but which failed to satisfy my needs. "You know what I mean, Paul," I hissed, my irritation growing stronger as he started to chuckle. "You're supposed to be doing your best to be nice to me, not teasing me this way."

I knew that I had hit the mark with that comment, and I closed my eyes and relaxed my lips, thinking that surely he would kiss me properly, but what I wasn't ready for was him lowering me down to the beach, placing me onto the wet sand and sliding his body between my legs, and only then did he kiss me, taking hold of my lips with such a ferocity that I gasped into his mouth.

His hands gripped each of mine, holding them down against the ground as he thoroughly took hold and control over my mouth, of my senses. My first thought as I'd been laid onto the cold, wet sand had been to complain, to accuse him of being insensitive to my needs once more, but as he kissed me, as his heavy warmth settled itself against my body, I found that I was quite comfortable, except for the ache forming between my legs, to accompany that which had hardened my nipples, and it wasn't long before I was rubbing the throbbing spots against him, hoping to find some measure of relief.

With a groan he tore his mouth away from mine, growling as he moved down on my body, his hands leaving mine as he all but tore my t-shirt from my body, followed quickly by my bra, causing the nipples which had already been standing up and aching to harden to a point that was painful. I tried to brace myself for the warm assault from his mouth that I knew was coming, but try as I may I couldn't suppress the mewl of pleasure that rose from my throat as he kissed and licked and suckled my flesh.

There was an overwhelming feeling that things were moving way too fast, at the same time that I felt as though we were going too slow. I gripped the muscles of his shoulders, my head turning from side to side, wetting my hair in the lingering moisture in the sand, my hands digging into his flesh as strong arousal coursed through my body.

He'd been teasing the nipple that hadn't been taken by his mouth with his fingertips, fingers that he moved to the button of my shorts as my whimpers grew louder, deftly unsnapping them, then lowering the zipper. I tried to grab him as he moved away from me, shivering as the cool breeze coursed over my skin, until I realized that he'd moved so that he could remove my shorts, followed quickly by my panties. I stared into his eyes for a moment, and then felt his hands on my shoulders as he gently pushed me back down onto the beach, shivering as my bared flesh met the wet sand.

There were many things that I had learned in my time with Paul, many 'firsts' that I'd experienced, with him as my teacher, despite the fact that I was older, and this was a moment for another of those 'first times'. He lowered his body to the ground, flat on his stomach, wriggling upward until he was between my legs, his face precariously close to my very exposed, very wet, ceaselessly aching flesh, and I fought against a flash of self-consciousness, worrying about how I looked, with him lying so close at me, and even worse, how I smelled, that was until I saw the look in his eyes and the smile on his face, shocking me, seeing those things with his head located between my legs. It may have been scandalous, but it least it took my worries away...now if I could manage to live through what came next I'd be doing alright.

Paul's POV

I'd never went down on any of the women I'd pursued...I'd never had any desire to put my mouth anywhere near the vicinity of snatch, but as I'd found with countless other things, there was a first time for everything where my Lilah was concerned. She was nervous, that was plain to see, and she was more than a little self-conscious, though I wasn't sure why. I couldn't remember another time that I'd seen a prettier...well...you know, and I sure as hell hadn't ever come across one that smelled as good as hers did. It was hard to get a real good look, the moonlight only revealed so much, and the next thing I knew my hands were on her thighs, gently easing them apart, and I looked my fill then, my blood pumping and my dick twitching when I saw the glistening shell pink of her grow darker, wetter beneath my gaze.

Oh damn...this wasn't going to be easy. I already knew that she was a virgin, something I'd never experienced before, the deflowering of an innocent, and what was worse was the fact that she was my all and everything; therefore I was positively terrified of the prospect of causing her pain. On the other hand, she was very turned-on, she wanted me just as much as I wanted her, so the only real issue that remained, moving beyond the apprehension, was how to get the deed done, slowly or quickly? I didn't mean the whole lovemaking deed...that would be done as slowly as I was capable of, what I meant was the initial entry, the taking of her virginity. Some said that it should be done quickly, in the way that you ripped off a Band-Aid, rather than slowly peeling it away, making the pain worse, of course, that wasn't a very helpful image when I thought of the removal of Lilah's innocence. On the other hand, going slowly, little by little, could be much worse, making the pain drag on and on...shit...I was screwed either way...no pun intended.

I decided that the best thing to do was to let all of that work out as it would and concentrated on the task at hand, placing a gentle kiss to the silken softness of one inner thigh, nuzzling my way up to the prize, swallowing hard as my mouth began to water as her scent grew stronger, the sweet tang of her arousal, paired with the muskiness that was always present, her own special aroma. This was one thing that I had absolutely no experience with, and slowly, cautiously, parted her lips, lowering my mouth to tentatively lick her, then raising my head to consider her taste, deciding that it was just as pleasing as her smell, and lowering my head to savor her once more.

For a moment she froze beneath me, barely breathing, but as I continued, as the stroking of my tongue found a rhythm that seemed to work for both of us, she quickly started to come alive, moaning and thrashing, sounds and movements that grew increasingly frantic when I found and paid close attention to the swollen bud nestled in the crest of her folds. Maybe we were far enough away from the house that no one heard her cries, which grew louder and louder, but I found that I didn't care who heard, in fact, I kind of hoped that they did take notice of her shouts...kind of barbaric, I suppose, but I would be happy, knowing that they knew that I was taking good care of my girl.

"Oh...oh, Paul...oh, baby...oh, yes...oh my God!"

My pride, along with key parts of my anatomy swelled when I heard that particular cry, felt her hands dive into and pull rather hard on my hair, causing tears of pain to momentarily well in my eyes. I'd made her come before now, several times, to tell the truth, but this had been a different sort of orgasm, this seemed to be one that she felt all throughout her body, one that seemed to reverberate for several moments, long enough for me to get my shorts off while she was still whimpering and quaking, moving once more to rest between her legs, my cock pressing against flesh that was swollen and wet, all but begging me to come inside.

"Tell me, is it going to be a yes or a no, sweetheart?" I managed to ask, fighting against the urge to pound into her. "Whatever the answer is, I need to hear it now, while I can still stop if I have to."

It wasn't fair of me at all, but I just couldn't help but slide a little bit of myself into her heat, biting back a growl of need and of pleasure. I should have been able to wait patiently for her to answer, I should have backed off, the way that any gentleman would, but the truth of the matter was that I wasn't much of a gentleman, and I had a feeling that my most gallant effort of the night was going to prove to be my ability to last longer than ten seconds once I was finally in her to the hilt.

"Please," she moaned, pressing herself closer against me, making me slide in just a tiny bit further. "Please don't stop honey...I need you so much."

I took a deep breath and shut my eyes, thrilled that she had given me her permission, even more thrilled that she wanted, no, needed, me the way that she did, but also terrified, both of causing her a horrible amount of pain, enough that she'd forget any pleasure I'd given her, and of whether or not I possessed the discipline necessary to last until she'd reached her own state of bliss, because there was no doubt that I would be finding mine.

I settled on a speed that was a compromise between slow and fast, feeling like I was entering a tight cocoon of molten silk, and I winced and took a deep breath as I found the delicate half-moon membrane that meant I was her first, and would be her only, lover, and leaning down to capture her lips I rended it in two, swallowing her cry of surprise, holding myself absolutely still, though it nearly killed me to do so, while she grew accustomed to the feel of me within her body.

I had screwed too many girls in my past, to call it anything other than that would have made a mockery of what I was experiencing at that moment, but I may as well have been a virgin, odd as that sounded, because I'd never felt anything as amazing as her heat, her soft tightness wrapped so snugly around me. I wanted more than anything to finish what we'd started, to find out just how much better what we had together could feel, but her needs had to be put first.

I heard, and felt, her take a deep, shuddering breath, and I was scared to look at her, worried that she may have been crying, but I had no choice when she put her hand on my face and turned me so that I was looking into her eyes, which I was happy to see were devoid of tears.

"I love you Paul," she said shakily, smiling as she ran her thumb over my lips. "I'm ready now, honey."

She lowered her hands to my shoulders and then went and shocked the hell out of me by lifting her legs, twining them around my waist, moving herself on me, up, then down, making me growl deep in my throat. She winced a little as she moved, but recovered quickly enough to thrust herself upwards once more, a movement that I met with one of my own, moving my hands under her butt, tilting her in a way that I knew would help, would heighten her pleasure...or so I hoped.

"I love you too," I whispered, lowering my head to kiss her as I found a slow, steady rhythm with her, tilting her up into each thrust. At first she winced and whimpered just a little, but then her body started to become accustomed to my presence and before long she was murmuring lovey-dovey nothings into my ear and stroking my hair, and I could tell the exact moment that things started to change for her, when things really started to feel good to her.

She'd met each of my movements with one of her own, refusing to lie still beneath me, and she grew more restless, more frantic, writhing underneath me, telling me that my tactics were paying off, and I tried not to listen to her breathless moans and whimpers, I tried not to pay attention to the fact that she was growing increasingly wetter, and hotter, I tried not to feel her nails as they dug into my shoulders, or her legs as they tightened around my waist, focusing instead on the fact that she was almost there, and that I had to last until the moment that I'd pushed her over the edge.

"It's happening," she panted, gripping me tighter, moving even faster beneath me. "Paul...I can feel it...it's happening...oh my God!"

She writhed and shuddered beneath me, her nails scouring my shoulders hard enough that I felt thin rivulets of blood well over to join the sweat that had bathed my entire body. I'd always prided myself on giving girls pleasure during our moments together, I was a jerk, but I'd never been a complete bastard, but I'd never really had the desire to sit back and enjoy watching that exact moment before, and right then, witnessing Lilah's undoing...damn...at the risk of sounding like a complete douche...it was freakin' magical.

She was always beautiful to me, of course, but this had to be the moment where she was the most exquisite woman in creation, and I felt a swell of pride...and of possession...that I would be the only one who would ever know her secret. Her eyes widened, softened, and then seemed to go blind as her moment swept through her. Her throat arched as she cried out my name, her skin flushed, and her tightness, which had already been almost too much to bear, constricted me in its hot silken sheath, stroking me with the throbbing rhythm of her orgasm, until I couldn't stand it any longer.

It was quite cinematic, I suppose, the way that the ocean, which had been pooling around our bodies, chose that precise moment to crash its waves upon us, cascading up my back, underneath us, threatening to sweep us out to sea. Any other time I may have been concerned, but not then, not as the world dimmed around me, my movements speeding to a point that could only be called frenzied, and it wasn't long before my throat was raw from crying out her name as I came apart in her embrace.

For several moments afterward all we could do was hold one another, trembling and kissing weakly, murmuring lovingly to one another, until the water level rose to a point that could prove to be dangerous.

"Paul, honey, I think this water is doing its best to wash us out into the ocean, and I've got sand in places that I don't want to think about," she whispered, slapping my shoulder when I snickered. "Do you think you could find the strength to carry me back to the car?"

It would have been a lot more romantic to stay on the beach, to bask in the morning rays, the ones that were already turning the sky a dusky pink, but I knew that a warm and comfortable bed would be preferable...knowing that we could both use some sleep. Of course, at the moment I felt energetic and wide-awake, not to mention challenged by her little comment about my level of strength.

"I think I might be able to handle that," I said, grinning when she turned to glare at me. "But just to the car, right?"

Damn...she could hit pretty hard for a girl.