I wake up not hungover for the first time in months and by some miracle, I don't feel like shit. I actually want to get dressed and go downstairs to have coffee. I still don't have an appetite however and the pressure in my chest is still there but it's like some of the steam was let out, and it feels lighter. That could be due to the fact that I had my first orgasm in months which was something I didn't expect and I can't help the sounds and images sliding to the forefront of my mind.
The game Jacob insisted we come into play last night was truth or dare and I chose dare because I would rather die than tell the two people I knew at that party, in addition to the ten other strangers any intimate details about myself. No thank you, I'd rather run naked outside in the snow…which I did end up doing and it wasn't half bad. I knew I had at least one set of eager eyes watching as that dare played out and I didn't feel too upset about it. I do wonder how much Paul actually saw…
I pour myself a cup of coffee, realizing it's Sunday and the library is closed, so I kind of slump in the chair at the kitchen table. I suppose I could just sit here and wait for it to be Monday, enjoying the snow that was still falling outside and the quiet. Charlie is at Harry's watching football which means I have the house to myself, which means that I have time to think, and as usual I begin by thinking about Edward. I am beginning to truly despise that he is still the first thing that comes to mind when it's quiet, like he's waiting for me…his ghost always present in each corner, haunting me, possessing my mind; some days I think I could just run away, just leave and find somewhere new…but then I think of Jake and I can't leave him. I feel like he's a salve to every wound that Edward inflicted. But I don't want to shelter myself in Forks for the rest of my life because if I do that, I will always feel like I'll be waiting for Edward to return; even though he won't come back. He will never come back and I don't want to still be here haunted by his ghost, waiting for him to fill the space in my chest that he used to occupy, and waste away as a hallow version of myself.
Also there's Paul, who has been a remarkably exciting distraction. I've never got to experience that kind of intimacy with anyone before and I am finding each day how much I really want it and it's becoming more than I can articulate….but I'm also scared of being left alone wanting someone that may not want me the same way…again.
I arrive at the library on Monday afternoon and Kelly is waiting at the front desk, smiling brightly and holding a small cup of coffee from the cart.
"Hi Bella! How was your weekend?" she says, handing me my coffee and I smile back taking a sip.
"Quiet," I say, adjusting the strap of my backpack over my shoulder.
"I heard Friday was fun," she says, one of her eyebrows arching playfully, "I heard there was a holiday party on the reservation that got rowdy."
"It was okay I guess," I think her idea of fun and mine may be a bit different, especially since most of my "fun" was spent separate from the party…with her nephew…and now I'm starting to feel my cheeks flush.
"Mmm hmm," she hums as one corner of her mouth hitches up in a crooked smile.
Uh, how much does she actually know? My cheeks are burning now and most likely brilliant shade of tomato red at this point.
"Well I'm glad you had fun," she says smiling.
"Yeah, me too," I mumble, as she slings her leather book bag around her shoulder and grabs her keys.
"Okay then," she says, giving my shoulder a gentle pat and heads to the door, "have a good night, Bella," she says over her shoulder as she walks away from the front desk and out the front door.
As soon as she's gone, I turn to check the very full go back bins before I head to the break room to set down my back pack, my eyes sliding over to the fiction section briefly before I go…and he's there; the wings of the butterflies begin to flutter in my belly.
I quickly set down my things in the breakroom, doctor up my coffee, and head back out to the front desk. There are four bins worth of books that need to go back and it takes me a solid hour and half to get them all organized on two separate carts; then I can actually begin putting them all back on the shelves. By the time I get to the fiction section, I am already halfway through my shift.
I save the fiction section for last and as I approach the aisle, I see Paul sitting languidly in his normal spot, one leg crossed over the other at the ankle, reading The Odyssey by Homer and I can't help but marvel at his reading selection. I remain quiet, keeping to my task, trying not to bother him, but the air is so thick with tension that it's almost hard to breathe. I slot a few books back onto the shelf, keeping focused on my task but my interior landscape is running amok. I can feel his eyes on me and my skin starts to prickle. My senses are so heightened that the tiniest movement from him is like a jolt of electricity; I'm that acutely aware of him. I chew my bottom lip as I wonder if he feels any of it.
He shifts suddenly and I jump, immediately feeling ridiculous for it and he chuckles.
I peek over at him as he says, "jumpy today."
I shrug and slide another book onto the shelf, "s'pose I am."
I go back to my cart, pick up a few more books and head to the section of the aisle near to where he's sitting. As I get closer to him, I feel more of that energy pulling me towards him, almost like his gravity is drawing me into his field, to orbit around him until I get sucked over his event horizon…as I slot another book in, I smell his cologne and the images flood through my brain of my lips on his neck where his scent is the most heady, may hands on his bare chest skating over his shoulders and down his arms, the soft intoxicating pressure of his full lips on mine, claiming my mouth with a force and command that I had never experienced before. My thighs tighten as I try to slide another book back onto a higher portion of the shelf well above my head and the current of electricity surges again as he moves behind me. I feel the warmth of his body close to my back and I go still as he takes the book, slides it easily back onto the shelf and his chest is against my back, his breath displacing my hair and runs over my neck, the fingertips of his other hand gently brushing against my hip. He dips his head down, moving my hair off my neck, his lips skimming against the skin there and inhales deeply, making the butterflies in my low abdomen take flight, their wings igniting in midair.
"What time do you usually lock up?" he asks with his lips against my neck and I suppress a sigh as little waves of heat fly up from between my legs.
"I thought you didn't like to be disturbed while you read?" I whisper, sliding another book onto the shelf in front of me and his fingers gently brush up against my arms. God I can hardly concentrate.
"I haven't been able to read since you got here," he says, his nose brushing up against my ear and I rub my thighs together, trying to find some of that friction as my core grows more slick.
"Sorry about that," I whisper, leaning back into him, feeling his hips against the mound of my backside and the butterflies have turned into a bonfire as his hands find my hips and presses me against him, holding me there. My arms clutch tight around the last book I need to slide back into place, but right now it feels like my last grip on sanity, my anchor keeping my feet on the ground as my senses fly everywhere with his touch, his scent, his words… "7pm," I say, with the slightest roll of my hips into him which awards me a low growl from his chest.
He huffs as he squeezes my hips, "guess I'll have to be patient."
And that part of me that I'm learning likes to hop over boundaries with reckless abandon comes to the surface again, as I turn, rise to my toes, my hand gliding up around his neck as I put my lips to his ears and whisper, "guess you will," and I take his earlobe in between my teeth as he presses me up against the shelves, one arm on the shelf and the other around my low back, pressing his hips into mine. I suppress a moan as he grinds his hips into me and sucks just below my jaw, his tongue gliding along the curve of my neck and my body comes alive with how erotic it is, and I need more.
"Um, excuse me?" a voice from the front of the aisle has us leaping apart from one another so abruptly it's almost painful.
"Yes, hi, how can I help you?" I say smiling, as I walk towards the thirteen year old girl with her backpack on.
"I need help finding something in the history section for an assignment," and I'm off with her in my wake to help her find her book, the butterflies' fiery wings still fluttering like mad in my belly as I go.
After I help her, I go back to the desk, realizing I had never put back that book that I had in my hands in the fiction section…I figure I could sort it out later as I take care of the queue of people that collected at the front desk to check out books.
Time has a wicked way of knowing when you want things to go fast or slow and usually adjusts to do the exact opposite of what you want and it is infuriating. I've looked at the clock for the twentieth time and it's only 6:40pm. I've done every single task that can be done, tidied everything that need to be tidied, wrote my cute little note to Kelly, cleaned the restrooms early, went through all the returns and late return slips, making out all the notices for the next two weeks for late books…and I still have another ten minutes before I can start my closing tasks. I feel the inner monster getting ravenous every time I look over to the fiction section and see him "reading," his gaze meets mine over the top of his book and his dark eyes flash with familiar heat.
These sensations and emotions with Paul are so different than it was with Edward; I wanted Edward with a longing that was timeless, powerful and potent but with Paul…it is feral, primitive, animalistic. With Edward I wanted to be wrapped up in him, to feel his touch, his lips, to feel like I mattered; with Paul I want to consume and be consumed, to rip into him with my teeth, taste him, feel him, devour him, and have him do the same to me. A part of me wants it to be painful and punishing; to feel everything well beneath the surface, well into the marrow of my bones. To shatter me into something inexplicable and profane, and the desperation is almost as powerful as the desire itself. It is as blinding as it is destructive to my concentration.
6:50 finally arrives and I begin my close up tasks, all the while feeling those green flecked eyes watching me, hunting me, stalking me like prey. I try not to look back, to see him watching me, to let him know that I was full to bursting with anticipation, with desire…but God help me it was nearly too much to withstand. I peeked over to see him leaning against the shelves, a book in his hand that he wasn't reading, his eyes gliding over me and the way he looks at me…like I am a meal and he is ravenous. The butterflies are balls of flame searing through my body, igniting everything they touch.
"Excuse me miss, I have a question about my card," a woman at the front desk interrupts my spiral into combustion.
"Oh, okay, what seems to be the problem?" I say, and it is another fifteen whole excruciating minutes of droning questions and explanations about how to use her card online versus in the library, how her barcode doesn't always work, how she thinks maybe the spelling might be…. oh my God lady just get out of here .
"Hi there," and it's Paul coming up behind the desk….like he works here… "we are so sorry, but the library closed five minutes ago, and we gotta get things closed up for the night."
"But, I still have questions," she says and I want to die.
"Yes well, perhaps tomorrow then, Miss…?" he says, his tone staying consistent, even though I feel his frustration reverberating off of him.
"Flannery, Karen Flannery," she says, her chin tips up slightly.
"Well, Miss Flannery," he says.
"Mrs. Karen Flannery."
Jesus fucking Christ lady.
"Thank you for stopping in today, Mrs. Flannery, but I really do need to close up for the night. Kelly or myself will be happy to answer any additional questions you have tomorrow morning when we open at 8am," I say, plastering a calm and reassuring smile on my face while my insides are exploding.
"Well, Kelly will be hearing about this," Karen says as she snatches up her book and card and stalks towards the door. As if I care Karen.
I follow after her with the keys, holding the door open for her as she huffs past me. I roll my eyes after she steps through the front doors, turning the keys in the front lock. Relieved and feeling myself unraveling into the desire that's been building for what felt like years, I turned to the desk to where he was standing and he wasn't there.
It's quiet and then the lights go off apart from the few reading lights on the walls still on at the back end of the aisles casting a warm amber glow in the now dimly lit library.
There's a part of me that wants to call out his name, tell him to come out, to stop playing around…but I don't. Because whatever this is…I want it, desperately.
I'm still as I listen to hear anything for a few long moments and when there's nothing but the soft humm and whir of the ceiling fans and heater churning out warm comfortable air, I begin to walk the aisles.
It's so quiet and the anticipation is scratching at the surface of my skin as I look down each long row of books, wondering if I was going to see his tall muscular frame leaning casually against the stacks, intent eyes gazing down at me…but so far I'm not finding anything.
I walk around the history section and into the center foyer and standing in the center, is my hunter, his lips barely parted and his eyes look almost black from where he's stands. My heart begins to race as I wet my lips and his eyes dart down to my mouth.
"Run," he growls and the surge of adrenaline is so immediate, my body responds before my brain could catch up. I run back down the aisle of the history section, back through the children's section and into the science section where the hallway is now visible to the break room and before I can leave the science section my feet are off the ground as he pulls me into the wall of books on my left and his mouth crashes to mine with near violent force. Teeth, tongues, and lips meld together almost painfully as he pins me hard against the wall of books and I feel his entire body pressed to mine like he was trying to mold his body to mine. My heart was slamming against my chest as his tongue darts into my mouth sweeping along my teeth as he puts his strong hands around the back of my thighs lifting me up, guiding my legs to wrap around his waist. I grab his hair in fistfuls pulling hard as his hands gripped each side of my ass tight as he pressed his hips and one of his thighs in between my legs making the pressure blissfully perfect at my core. I begin to rock my hips into him, grinding against his thigh, my legs tightening around his waist as one of his hands travels up my sides and palms my breast, his thumb swipes over my nipple, which pulls a soft moan from my lips. He begins kissing down my jaw until he reaches his favorite spot on my neck, where he inhales deeply and groans.
"Fuck how do you smell like this?" he growls as he grazes his teeth along my neck, biting and then laving over the abused flesh, my hips grinding into him harder.
"What…what is it,-" I stammer as he snaps his hips into me, the pressure sending a rocket of heat up my spine and I cry out, my voice echoing off the aisles and ceiling of the dim library.
"God Bella," he whispers hoarsly into my neck, "you smell like, autumn in the forest when it rains," his lips brush against my neck, "…honeysuckle and sex," he continues and kisses over my shoulder and swipes his tongue over my collarbone, grinding his iron length against my core, sending shivers up and down my spine, "you…" and he hesitates as his mouth covers the hallow of my neck and it feels so primal and possessive as he grazes his teeth against the vulnerable expanse of skin. My hips are moving against him at a pace that is pushing me closer to that familiar edge again, and his lips find mine, his tongue swiping across and stirring a flurry of pleasure through my core and I need more…just a little more.
"Please," I whisper into his mouth and his hips press hard into mine and the spiral tightens within me, threatening to push me over the edge, more words are on my tongue again as I whisper, "more…Paul…more."
"Fuck," he murmurs as his hips thrust into me again and I'm so close…just one more time…just one more, "say it again," he says in a low voice, "my name, say it again."
"Paul," I say quietly as I take his lower lip between my teeth, sucking gently. His mouth cover mine again as he squeezes my ass hard with both of his strong hands.
"Again," he says through his teeth and I try to pull his hips into me, needing that pressure against me to send me into the abyss, wanting this death more than life.
"Paul," I yell out and the sound fills the near silent room, every corner was filled my voice saying his name like a song. He slams his hips into me and I scream out feeling myself swan dive into the darkness, my entire body contracting and falling to pieces. His hips keep a steady pace as I come back down into my body again and he's lifting me away from up against the shelves of books, holding me close to him as he walks to a nearby table, lays me on my back, and begins unbuttoning my jeans. He pulls them off of me along with my boots and he lays his body over me to kiss me once, before taking off my sweatshirt and pulling his over his head, his hair is a rumpled mess as it swipes over his head. He stands before me, looking at me as I lay in my underwear on the table and I start to feel self-conscious, my hands begin to cover my chest but he pulls them away as he stares. He surveys my body like he's surveying a map and I feel so bare and vulnerable that I start to feel the heat of chagrin creep up my neck.
"Um," I mutter as my knees pull back together and his eyes snap to mine.
"No," he says, putting his hands on my knees gently coaxing them back open.
"W-what are you doi-,"
"So fucking perfect," he whispers.
"What?" I say.
"You are perfect Bella," he says in his deep voice and I feel my insides liquify as my mind begins to ruin the moment.
"Yeah right," I say with a smirk as I prop myself up on my elbows, and his eyes get impossibly dark as he looks at me.
"How do you not see it?" he asks and it is impossibly honest that it's hard for me to comprehend.
"I-I don't…" and I realize before I can finish that I've uttered those same words, felt those same things…about Edward. I thought he was perfect…too perfect in fact. So much so that the thought was unfathomable for someone so perfect to have affection for someone like me: a flawed, damaged, weak, human girl. The tears start to prickle my eyes and I sit up. "I'm anything but perfect," I say, trying to fight back the tears that are threatening to fall and I avoid his eyes.
"God Bella," he says, crouching down to be eye level with me, "how can you believe that?"
"Easily," I say and move to stand but he grips my thighs with both of his hands.
"Listen to me, princess," he says in a tone that is gravelly and dark, "I don't care if it's you or that prick of a bloodsucker that has told you otherwise, but right now, in this library, on this table…you are perfect," and he leans over me kissing my mouth, "and you are mine."
All the damning thoughts fall away as my mind chants, Oh fuck, oh god, over and over like a prayer as his hands are pressing me back down onto the table, his lips leaving a trail of wet kisses down my neck, chest, abdomen, and in the valley between my hips. He collects my underwear between his teeth, pulls them down over my legs and feet, and they dangle in his mouth for a moment. He places them in his pocket and says, "These are for later," and I begin to squirm at the thought of him pumping himself into my underwear…it was so deliciously dirty and I bloomed in heat at the thought.
He crouches down kissing my knees down my inner thighs and then hovers over my mound, my eyes flutter shut as his tongue gently glides over the slickness of my core. I open my eyes to see him staring up at me, a smile that could only be described as sinister played on his lips as his mouth covered the bundle of nerves between my legs, his tongue mercilessly swiping with perfect punishing pressure and I feel myself sprint to the edge faster than before. I rock my hips into his mouth, grabbing his hair as I moan. He swipes his tongue at my entrance as one of his fingers slides into me and I arch my back bucking my hips into him.
"So tight and wet for me," he says as his tongue laves over that throbbing bundle of nerves ashe places another finger inside of me and let out a loud groan, his fingers filling every part of me and I'm so close again. My hips grinding harder into his mouth and fingers.
"Fuck, Paul," I growl out through my teeth and I hear him chuckle, the vibration sending little shock waved up my spine, as he pumps his fingers into me.
"Such a filthy princess," he chuckles as his tongue punishes my clit, sending me back to the precipice, right to the edge of the void…one more sweep of his tongue, one more roll of my hips with his fingers inside of me and I will die.
I look down again to see his eyes and that glint of green, that little piece of himself that I can't get enough of that's mine to adore…they're watching me, wanting me, taunting me to fly off the edge and by God I do. I let my head fall back as my orgasm rocks through my enitre body like a hurricane. It tears me apart as I scream his name into the darkness again, every cell of my body exploding and rearranging and I'm floating, falling, and flying all at once.
His fingers are still filling me, moving more slowly as I begin to come back into myself and he removes his fingers. I watch him lick them clean and I groan feeling my arousal spike again at his absolutely filthy action and I can't get enough of it, wanting him so much more.
I prop myself up onto my elbows again and stare at him, my eyes sliding down to the considerable erection that pressed against his jeans and I can't help licking my lips. I wanted to know, I wanted to see…I wanted everything .
"Not yet, princess," he says, looking down at me from where I stood and my heart falls into my stomach.
"Please," I whisper quietly, looking up at him through my lashes and I watch his face darken, a clear struggle was happening within him as I begin to do as he said I would…although I wasn't quite begging, I was certainly asking . "I want this…I want you, please."
"Fuck Bella," he mutters as he squeezes the back of his neck, "not gonna make this easy for me are you?"
"Please…please, Paul," I say standing up off the table, gliding my hand over his massive throbbing erection.
"Bella," he says, "not here."
My heart falls again as my core continues to tighten and ache, hating how empty I felt. Beg…beg him…beg… my mind has become a rapt submissive, worshipping at his temple.
I begin to rub my hand over his cock, he sucks air in through his teeth like he was in pain. My other hand threads into his hair by his neck pulling him to my mouth and I kiss him gently as he groans at my other hand rubbing over him, his head falling onto my shoulder. I manage to unbutton his jeans, sliding my hand in, feeling him through his boxers, finding that little pocket that give me access to his skin and wrap my hand around him.
I can barely close my hand around him completely as pump my hand along his length, his hands rove over my low back, finding my ass again and pulling me into him. His hips begin to thrust into me as I pump him with my hand and he groans, one of his hands traveling up my back, over the back of my neck and grabbing a fistful of my hair, pulling hard revealing my neck to him. His lips cover my neck, his teeth scraping painfully along my skin and his tongue laves lewdly over the same spot with long wet stripes. My hand travels up to the head, spreading his own pre-spend all around it and pump down the length again.
"Don't stop," he growls into my neck and his hips thrust into me, his other hand like a vice pinning me to him, "fuck, please don't stop."
I pump my hand along his length as he thrusts hard into my hips and hand, he bites down on my shoulder, sending shock waves of pleasure and pain down my spine, his fingers digging into my low back as he moans and his cock begins pulsing into my hand. I feel the hot wetness of his climax and I use it to continue to pump everything out of him, his hips jerking into my hand and his abdomen flexing tightly against me.
I pull my hand out of his pants, coated in his spend, as he releases his teeth from my shoulder meeting my eyes…and that filthy part of me, that depraved disgusting darkness that is slowly being realized, takes hold and I lick his climax off of my hands. It's bitter, salty, tangy…like heartbreak...like letting go…he groans as he watches me clean my hand with my tongue.
"I want to tear you apart, princess," he rasps as he puts his hands on either side of my head putting my forehead to his, "I…" he hesitates as I place my hand gently on his chest. I stare up at him as he squeezes his eyes shut.
"Then do it," I whisper to him, and his eyes open to stare back at me, his hand fisting the hair at the back of my head but gently this time.
"I…" he starts and it's clear he's fighting something. "Bella, there's so much more you have to understand."
"What do you mean?" I ask as he pulls his forehead away from mine.
He takes a breath stepping back by a half inch and I hate it: the cold that enters the space between us like a painful intrusion, "it's not just sex," he says.
"Tell me," I say gently, because at this point, I was addicted…Paul was becoming the heroine that was taking the pain of Edward away and I worried that I would never recover from this addiction…but I was burning alive with wanting him.
He was fighting it in his mind, wincing with clenched teeth, the pulse in his brain clearly back. "Bella," he growls and something is happening to him, his body begins to tense, his muscles contracting. "Bella stand back," he yells as his arm shoots out and pushes me away from him, his eyes glowing bright yellow as he doubles over, crying out as he begins to change into a massive silver wolf.
I stand there blinking and stunned. It was the most peculiar sensation to be alone, naked, with a giant silver wolf right in front of me and not be completely terrified…and then he lays down in front me, his snout between his front paws as his bright glowing yellow eyes peer up at me in a gesture that was so gentle on a beast so fearsome, it almost didn't make any sense at all; just like him reading classic literature in a library in his spare time.
"Paul?" I whisper and he huffs loudly. I surveyed him more closely as he laid there looking at me calmly. His fur was like moonlight, shining in the dim amber glow of the library, silver and glistening, gentle brushstrokes of black intermingling like the night sky across his body. "Paul your wolf," I begin to say, "he's beautiful." He stays still before me with his head on the floor and I want to touch him, run my hands over his beautiful silver light body. I crouch down by him as he lays perfectly still and I slowly let my fingers run through the soft bristly texture of his fur. I want to be enveloped in his warmth, to lay here next to him, feel him breath, wrap my arms around him…and so I do. I lay down next to him, draping my arms over his massive body and he makes a sound, deep in his chest as I pull myself close to him, the warmth of his body like the sun seeping into my skin and bones; and before I knew it, my eyes lulled closed and I fall asleep holding his wolf in my arms.