Fade Into You
Type: Fanfiction
World: Twilight
Status: one shot
Title: Fade Into You
Rating: M
Genre: Romance
Pairing: Jacob & Bella
Summary: Jacob walks in on Bella in a very private situation.
Notes: This is dedicated to audreyii_fic , because she gave me the prompt for this (don't click the link if you're at work or surrounded by children^^)
Fade Into You
The obtrusive ringing of the phone not-so-gently echoed in my sleep, my consciousness stirring unwillingly, my eyes opening against my better judgment.
The scarce light from outside that reached inside my small living room was grey, lifeless, and downright poisonous for a human's mood. Had the sun been shining lately, I would have missed it setting by now, dark clouds a forerunner for what was sure to be a rainy night.
I suddenly felt a soft stirring next to my face, a feather light brush of skin against my cheek, and my eyelids drifted closed again, a sigh escaping my lips.
Bella.
Today's weight came crushing down on me. The cursed redhead, Bella's lifeless body drifting in the icy water, her eyes opening at last, my name coming from her blue lips in a hopeful whisper, her hands clinging to me, her eyes begging me to stay, the news of Harry Clearwater's death, the fear of losing everyone I loved.
But she was here, alive, breathing, sleeping restlessly on my couch, her fingers searching me on the floor.
I leaned into her touch, cherishing the feeling of her cold fingertips brushing against my lips, no fingernails to scratch my skin, all nibbled off. The realization that I had only been a few seconds away from losing her today was harder to carry than the knowledge of Harry's death, a terrible tragedy, but pain I knew would pass with time.
If I had pulled Bella's corpse out of the raging ocean…
I suddenly remembered the ringing phone, opening my eyes again, slowly pushing myself into a sitting position on the floor. Bella's arm hang limply from the side of the couch, her hair not quite dry yet, lips pale but a slight flush of red - of life - back on her cheeks.
The old blanket had halfway fallen onto the floor, so I caught one of the scraggy ends and pulled the blanket back over her shoulder, cupping her cheek softly, trying to warm her still icy skin just a little bit, to help her in any way I could. Any way she would let me.
Quickly making my way to the phone, eyes still focussed on Bella's sleeping form on my couch, I knew that there were so many unspoken truths between us, questions I needed to ask. I needed to hear how she felt about me (I knew exactly, but I needed her to tell me, to hear it coming from her lips), wanted to know what had happened today, if my efforts to fix her had been in vain. What we were, what we could be if she gave us a chance.
Probably on the last ring, I caught the phone in my hand, answering without any effort to sound welcoming. I was not.
"Boy, are you alright?" Billy's worried voice asked me through the receiver, and I rolled my eyes, hating that he always knew, knew everything before I did.
"Yeah, are you?" I retorted, a genuine question, thoughts of Harry swirling through my mind, while my eyes still guarded over Bella.
"Yeah. Sue is strong, she's coping. But Leah locked herself up in her room and Seth is roaming around the beach, so, I hoped you might want to come over and talk to them? I'm going to stay the night, so you have to come over anyway and bring me my meds. It would be very nice of you, Jake. You… understand them, boy."
I felt my heart sting painfully, images of my mother - lifeless, surrounded by beeping machines and wires in a hospital bed - flashing through my mind, memories I wanted to forget, images that soon got diffuse, Bella's face replacing my mother's, heartbeats stopping, breathing getting shallow…
"Sure," I choked, trying to sound as strong as I should be in the situation. Bella had not died, my mother had been dead for a long time. It were Seth and Leah who got to be weak today, "I'll come over right away."
"Thank you, Jake."
"Yeah, see you, Dad."
I hung up the phone carefully, ignoring the primal urge to clash it into the station. Breathing deeply, I went into my room, turning on the heater (something I had not done in quite a while), throwing some of my laundry underneath my bed, kicking some of the trash there, too. My attempt at cleaning was poor and I knew it, but it would do. Plus, I knew Bella did not care the slightest about this, about outer appearance or prestige. It was not who she was.
Grabbing my father's medication from his nightstand on my way, I went back to the living room, seeing that Bella was still sound asleep, her fingertips brushing along the carpet now.
I brushed a strand of loose hair from her face, my heartbeat picking up speed as I felt her shiver unconsciously beneath my touch, her lashes flickered for a splint second. Gently, careful not to wake her up, I pulled the blanket from her fragile body, pushing my arms beneath her back and knees, lifting her against my chest.
She was so insanely light, almost like nothing in my arms, her head pressing against my chest, the dampness of her breathing warm against my skin.
My stomach was fluttering as I carried her into my room, sadness and anger dominating my mind. This should be different. I had imagined carrying her into my room, gently lowering her onto my bed so many times, in so many dreams and fantasies. But in those she was always awake, her soft lips demanding against my own, her naked skin pressed against every inch of mine, her hands holding on to me. She should not be recovering from a near-death-experience, should not be asleep and helpless in my arms. I should not have to rest her head on my pillow, pulling my blanket over her cold body. It was wrong.
Her eyes had fluttered a little when I had lowered her onto the bed and the warmth of my skin had disappeared, but she immediately sank back into her slumber when she cuddled closer to my pillow.
"Jake," she murmured in her sleep, her pale fingers clutching my blanket, pulling it closer to her.
I leaned closer to her, hoping she would sense me somehow, and chastely brushed my lips over her forehead.
"It'll be alright, Bells," I murmured, laying a note next to her on the pillow, saying where I was and that I would be back as soon as I could.
It felt wrong leaving her on her own, and I was scared of what would happen should she wake up before I returned. Whatever had happened at the cliffs earlier, it had reasons that were beyond my understanding, and as I closed the front door behind me, fear overcame me. Utter fear that I had read her wrong, that she did not feel about me as I felt about her.
And I felt nothing but her these days. My every thought was somehow related to Bella, I found a piece of her everywhere I looked and went.
The first drops of rain started to drizzle from the sky, and I began to walk faster down the deserted street.
x
The slight drizzle from earlier had turned into a raging downpour, my hair sticking to my forehead, and the denim of my jeans sticking uncomfortably to my thighs as I sprinted through the dark streets of La Push, the streetlights never really doing a good job in lightening up anything other than the colonies of moths that lived there.
My fingers were curled to fists, my eyes staring straight ahead, legs pushing me faster, always closer to my run-down house.
It was a rare thing these days that I was being pulled there like a magnet. But, since usually my desire to be somewhere was linked to wherever Bella was, it was a logic conclusion. I needed to be with her. And even more, I needed her to need me around.
I raced up the porch steps, lucky to get out of the rain when I entered the dim house. Even though I never got cold in the rain anymore, I still despised it.
Quietly, I closed the door behind me, concluding from the silence and darkness in the house, that Bella was still asleep. But the second the door fell closed, I heard heavy breathing, the sound causing my chest to clench painfully. What was wrong?
The heavy, slightly muffled breathing continued, and I found myself racing towards the closed door of my room. As the sounds got louder, they became much clearer, soft whimpers mingled with sharp intakes and throaty outtakes of breath.
In retrospect, I was extremely grateful that I had oiled the hinges of my door the week before, because when I pushed it open, it made no sound, no screech, and nothing was scattered on the floor which it could have bumped into.
Nothing that could have disturbed what was happening inside my room, nothing, not even the sound of my voice, because the worried Bells was choked in my throat as my eyes widened at the sight in front of me.
I tried very hard to remember every single detail about how I had gotten from the Clearwater's house to my own, going over every step, ever drop of rain, every streetlight over and over again, needing reassurance that this was not a dream because it could not be happening. Not to me, the eternal second best, second in line. It. Could. Just. Not. Be. Real.
But the feeling of all my blood rushing south, the tightening in my lower abdomen and the straining against my jeans felt too real, everything was too real to be just another hopeless dream.
It was real.
Bella was still laying in my bed, face down, her damp clothes in a heap on the floor next to my bed, instead wearing one of my old shirts, the red color like a warning signal for me, her hair spilled all over my pillow, her left hand buried beneath her body, the right gripping my sheets so hard that her skin turned scary white, strained against her knuckle. The fabric of my blanket was bunched up… right between her slender, creamy thighs, my eyes glued to her white cotton panties, grinding against the fabric over and over again, a little bit faster and harder each time, pushing her entire lower body flat against my mattress.
I just kept staring, the heady scent in the room filling my nostrils, my chest rumbling, Bella's whimpers and - I could now define it - moans like church bells to my ears.
The muscles in her thighs contracted each time Bella ground herself against my blanket, a choked sound escaping her lips each time, and images flooded my head of what her hand was doing that was hidden from my sight, just like her face. God, what I would give to see her face. Flushed, lips parted, eyes closed.
My hand started to instinctively move toward the straining bulge in my jeans, but I made a fist instead, holding myself back, not wanting to take advantage of anything. It felt wrong already standing here, watching her in such a private moment, in a situation I never thought I would ever get to see her in.
Bella started to rotate her hips, pushing her core even more forcefully against the blanket, and a particularly loud moan escaped her lips, the throaty sound almost like a groan, a sound I was fighting to hold back so hard.
I needed to do something, anything. But what? I saw two options, two very obvious things to do. But the increasingly rapid speed and force of Bella's grinding, almost desperate as I noticed, her sounds and the scent, pretty much the content of all my fantasies laid out in front of me, made it difficult to think straight enough o make a decision.
I could just sneak out of my room, close the door, and pretend nothing ever happened. But as Bella really, truly groaned into my pillow, her fist clenching even harder around my sheets, I knew I could never pretend I had not seen this. Heard this. Smelled this. Done this so many times in my dreams.
But revealing my presence to her? Hey, Bells, I'm back, just letting you know. No. She would be humiliated, mortified, she would never again be able to look into my eyes, no matter how often I might tell her that it doesn't matter. It would destroy what I had built up so slowly and with so much love.
"Unngh…"
I squeezed my eyes shut, tried to control my breathing, tried to ignore the throbbing ache in my abdomen. Shit. I needed to decide. Fast.
But then Bella took the decision out of my hands.
"Jake," she moaned into my pillow, the voice raspy, needy, desperate. I opened my eyes, only to see that I had not been caught. Instead, I saw Bella had arched her back, pressing her middle harder and faster against my bed, her hair forming a curtain around her face.
"Jake," she whispered again, unaware of my physical presence in the room, and it was enough justification for me to unclench my fingers, fully stepping into my room and slowly, quietly stepping across the floor towards my bed.
I found option number three.
Careful not to let the impact of my weight give me away too soon, I kneeled on my bed behind Bella, who was so lost in her own world that she never noticed, her moans turning more and more desperate and loud. The scent radiating from her was intoxicating, making my head dizzy, my hands clutching the sheets beneath me as I slowly slid closer to Bella.
My shirt that Bella was wearing was much too big for her, the fabric already halfway up her back, exposing the pale, smooth expanse of skin of her lower back to me, the dip of her spine, the lacy top of her underwear against her pale skin, everything too real, too much her, too much of what I wanted so desperately.
Being so much closer, I could see the way her thighs were quivering, the hand fisting my sheets trembling from the effort, her breathing muffled by my pillow.
Just as she released another breathy moan, her entire body shivering, I quickly slid the warm palms of my hands over the exposed skin of her lower back and underneath the red shirt, feeling the goose bumps all over her skin for the fragment of a second before all movement froze beneath me.
"Don't," I whispered quickly, leaning my entire body over Bella's so my mouth was right by her head, my words spilling right into her ear, "Please, don't stop."
Slowly, I started to move my fingers across the incredible smooth skin of her back, my breathing hitching as I realized she was not wearing a bra. How could she be even softer than I had imagined so often?
"Please don't stop, Bells," I repeated, my voice as strained as my jeans, but I tried to keep my weight of her, nothing but my breath and hands touching her, damp against her ear and warm against her back, feeling every ridge of her spine, the shiver beneath my touch, the raise of her shoulder blades, her squirming when my fingertips grazing the sensitive skin where her back melded into her stomach.
"Don't stop," I pleaded now, my fingers digging a little bit more forceful into her skin, my thumbs running along the lacy hemline of her underwear, her hips buckling beneath me.
"Jake."
There it was again, the breathy, throaty whisper of my name coming from her lips, so close to me now.
It was enough encouragement for me to let my hands roam across the expanse of her back again, my fingertips always just around the edge, teasing, still a little unsure about what to do. I wanted to do this right, the situation so much different from how I had pictured it in my mind.
But when Bella started to slowly, carefully this time, grind her middle against my blanket, her breathing picking up again, I knew that holding back was the worst thing to do right now.
Leaning a little closer to her, I let my hands brush over her sides again, the whimper coming from her lips making it almost impossible to fight the urge to press myself against her, if even just a little bit.
My fingertips brushed over her flat stomach, feeling her muscles quiver beneath my touch, meeting in the middle before they started drawing lazy circles on her soft skin, moving higher and higher.
The warmth of her skin was so different from how it usually felt, the movement of her hips beneath me causing me to groan against my will, the soft moan coming from Bella almost simultaneously really making me feel that this was not just her anymore, but us.
As my hands moved higher up her stomach, I could see her arm starting to move again in my peripheral vision, moving in short, rough jerks, tense, desperate.
Before I realized how high my hands had moved, my fingertips suddenly bumped against the raise of Bella's breast, her breathing hitched, her hips grinding harder than ever against the blanket.
"Jake," she moaned, her grip on my sheets easing, as she manoeuvred her free hand beneath her as well, twisting it so she could rest her small hand over one of mine, fingertips digging deep into my skin.
Groaning against the side of her head, I moved my hands further, feeling hers drop down onto the mattress, cupping both of her breasts gently in my hands, the tips of my fingers brushing along her hardened nipples.
It was as if something snapped in that moment, Bella's loud moan triggering a primal instinct inside of me, my hips grinding down, while Bella raised her own away from the bed, seeking me instead, meeting the aching bulge in my shorts. I grabbed her breasts harder at the feeling of her pressed against me, another breathy moan of my name the reward.
I pulled one of my hands out from underneath the shirt, Bella's pleading whimper causing me to grind against her again, pushing her a little further into the mattress. My other hand started to touch every inch of her skin, palming her breasts, feeling every tiny rise and fall of her nipple, sensing her shivers as I brushed across them.
While Bella continued to grind her core against my bed, every sweet whimper coming from her lips causing myself to push myself a little more forcefully against her, I gently trailed the bare skin of Bella's arm with my fingertips, pushing my arm alongside hers until my fingertips reached the place Bella's hand disappeared beneath the hemline of her panties.
"Jake," she whispered again, turning her head so I could see her face. Her eyes were heavy-lidded, cheeks flushed, lips parted, her breathing still ragged, and the dampness now fanning across my face.
"Bells," I whispered back, smiling very slightly, just a twitch of my lips before I pressed them against her flushed cheeks, feeling her warm skin beneath my nervous touch, her soft sigh. Gently, feather-lightly, I trailed my lips across her jaw toward her own lips, parted, sighing, moaning every time my other hand brushed against the sensitive skin of her breast. The movement of our hips had stilled, but the second I pressed my lips against hers, I pushed my waiting hand beneath Bella's, thereby replacing her own.
I could feel rather than hear her moan against my lips, her fingertips digging into my skin, holding on as my own slipped between her folds, my hips involuntarily grinding down hard against her, pushing her so far into the mattress that our hands were trapped and my fingertips were the only thing left with space to move.
Bella's lips were urgent against mine, her hips buckling as I hesitantly started to move my fingers, feeling the wetness, sliding my fingers over the bundle that caused Bella to press herself against my hand so hard the blood circulation was cut off, my own hips grinding down against hers untamed now, my other hand palming her breast roughly, my tongue tracing her bottom lip, feeling her open up to me as my fingers continued to rub and circle and trace and stroke, letting my instincts drive me because I didn't have a clue about what I was doing and nothing could have prepared me for this.
"Jake, please," she moaned against my lips, her tongue touching mine, wetly sliding along, her hand pressing mine harder against her wet heat, hips buckling, guiding my hand more south until my fingertip started to slide inside of her.
She whimpered pleadingly, trying to move herself against me, my own need too agonizing to suppress anymore. In a quick movement that caused Bella to squeal in surprise, I turned her onto her back below me, my lips never leaving hers, lips fighting, my teeth nibbling slightly against her bottom lip, the taste of her fogging my mind.
Our arms more free now, Bella bunched up the red shirt until her breasts hit the warmth radiating from me, and she pressed herself up, always closer to me, until our bare chests were pressed against each other, her soft skin, her heartbeat drumming rapidly beneath me, my finger sliding deeper, her hips rising to meet me, my thumb circling her clit, her moans against my mouth urging me on.
Her hand left her chest, holding on to my side as she starting to move her hips in rhythm with my finger, heavy breathing damp against me, her sweaty fingers sliding up and down my skin, gripping, digging, stroking. I could feel my abdomen tensing as she slid her hand from my side to my stomach, her fingertips slightly moving downwards, shyly feeling my skin, the response she was getting as I pushed myself into her touch.
My mouth left hers - I needed to hear her clearer, every single sound she was making - but my lips never left her skin, trailing along her jaw, nibbling at her earlobe which caused her hand's journey to stop for a second with a shaky moan as she recollected herself. Her fingers trailed the waistline of my jeans then, and I felt myself always moving closer to her, silently pleading for her not to stop. And she never did.
Just as I gently, carefully, slid a second finger inside of her, amazed by the tight heat and the way her back arched, her breast pressing against my chest, she slid her hand beneath the loose hemline, her relatively cold fingers wrapping around my shaft and while I groaned loudly against her neck, pressing my lips against her rapidly beating carotid artery, I figured she was doing this as much on instinct as I was.
"God, Bells," I choked against her skin as she started moving her hands chastely up and down, my own fingers rubbing furious and uncontrolled circles over her wet skin now, pushing deeper and faster as her hips buckled in response.
"Jake, kiss me," she silently murmured against my ear, the tip of her nose bumping against the shell and I felt a rush of warmth through my entire body, raising me head to look down at her. The look in her eyes was full of want, need and something I had longed to see reflecting from there for so long, "Kiss me. I love you."
My lips crashed down on hers, my fingers reluctantly removing from the heat and wetness, pulling her hand out of my jeans, pushing her deep into the mattress as I started to grind myself against her warm core, the damp fabric of her underwear rubbing along the seam of my jeans, exactly where I needed her to be, her moan drowned by my lips moving against hers, my hands roaming over her side, brushing across the side of her breasts before sliding beneath her shoulders to pull her up with me, her legs falling on either side of me as she pressed herself closer against me.
Sitting on my lap, Bella began to grind herself against me just as she had done with my blanket earlier, the memory causing me to grip her harder, kiss her with more urgency, my hands digging into her waist to guide her as our movements become desperate, tense, less rhythmical.
Our lips parted again, my head burring in the crook of Bella's neck, still smelling the salt of the ocean in her hair as I pulled her closer to me.
"Say it again," I whispered against her sweaty skin, her hands wrapped around my neck, holding on as if she were afraid of falling.
"I love you, Jake."
It was all it took, those words coming from her lips, her voice so genuine and gentle. I grabbed her waist harder, pulled her rougher against me, forgetting all inhibitions I might have had, faintly hearing her moan my name, feeling her shudder above me as my world came crushing down on me, every nerve ending in my body sensitive to everything that was Bella.
Her hips twitched against mine, slight tremors running through her trembling body, goose bumps covering her skin, her breathing ragged against my cheek, her fingertips lazily running up and down my scalp.
"I love you, Jake," she repeated, kissing the side of my face softly, almost shyly after everything that had just happened.
I loosened my grip on her waist, my hands stroking up and down her spine now, my lips brushing against her neck.
"How did this happen?" I asked, still suspicious, afraid of waking up, of the bubble bursting, of the light of reality being switched on.
Bella rested her head on my shoulder, her breathing slowing down as she relaxed against me.
"I woke up and read your note and… everything smelled so much like you and my clothes were cold, there was this shirt on your chair and… I don't know, it just… I didn't really think," she whispered sleepily, and I could feel her lashes tickle my skin as she closed her eyes.
"Bells," I whispered in response, her soft hum telling me enough, that she would soon fall asleep against me, peacefully this time, "Just… don't stop, okay?"
World: Twilight
Status: one shot
Title: Fade Into You
Rating: M
Genre: Romance
Pairing: Jacob & Bella
Summary: Jacob walks in on Bella in a very private situation.
Notes: This is dedicated to audreyii_fic , because she gave me the prompt for this (don't click the link if you're at work or surrounded by children^^)
Fade Into You
The obtrusive ringing of the phone not-so-gently echoed in my sleep, my consciousness stirring unwillingly, my eyes opening against my better judgment.
The scarce light from outside that reached inside my small living room was grey, lifeless, and downright poisonous for a human's mood. Had the sun been shining lately, I would have missed it setting by now, dark clouds a forerunner for what was sure to be a rainy night.
I suddenly felt a soft stirring next to my face, a feather light brush of skin against my cheek, and my eyelids drifted closed again, a sigh escaping my lips.
Bella.
Today's weight came crushing down on me. The cursed redhead, Bella's lifeless body drifting in the icy water, her eyes opening at last, my name coming from her blue lips in a hopeful whisper, her hands clinging to me, her eyes begging me to stay, the news of Harry Clearwater's death, the fear of losing everyone I loved.
But she was here, alive, breathing, sleeping restlessly on my couch, her fingers searching me on the floor.
I leaned into her touch, cherishing the feeling of her cold fingertips brushing against my lips, no fingernails to scratch my skin, all nibbled off. The realization that I had only been a few seconds away from losing her today was harder to carry than the knowledge of Harry's death, a terrible tragedy, but pain I knew would pass with time.
If I had pulled Bella's corpse out of the raging ocean…
I suddenly remembered the ringing phone, opening my eyes again, slowly pushing myself into a sitting position on the floor. Bella's arm hang limply from the side of the couch, her hair not quite dry yet, lips pale but a slight flush of red - of life - back on her cheeks.
The old blanket had halfway fallen onto the floor, so I caught one of the scraggy ends and pulled the blanket back over her shoulder, cupping her cheek softly, trying to warm her still icy skin just a little bit, to help her in any way I could. Any way she would let me.
Quickly making my way to the phone, eyes still focussed on Bella's sleeping form on my couch, I knew that there were so many unspoken truths between us, questions I needed to ask. I needed to hear how she felt about me (I knew exactly, but I needed her to tell me, to hear it coming from her lips), wanted to know what had happened today, if my efforts to fix her had been in vain. What we were, what we could be if she gave us a chance.
Probably on the last ring, I caught the phone in my hand, answering without any effort to sound welcoming. I was not.
"Boy, are you alright?" Billy's worried voice asked me through the receiver, and I rolled my eyes, hating that he always knew, knew everything before I did.
"Yeah, are you?" I retorted, a genuine question, thoughts of Harry swirling through my mind, while my eyes still guarded over Bella.
"Yeah. Sue is strong, she's coping. But Leah locked herself up in her room and Seth is roaming around the beach, so, I hoped you might want to come over and talk to them? I'm going to stay the night, so you have to come over anyway and bring me my meds. It would be very nice of you, Jake. You… understand them, boy."
I felt my heart sting painfully, images of my mother - lifeless, surrounded by beeping machines and wires in a hospital bed - flashing through my mind, memories I wanted to forget, images that soon got diffuse, Bella's face replacing my mother's, heartbeats stopping, breathing getting shallow…
"Sure," I choked, trying to sound as strong as I should be in the situation. Bella had not died, my mother had been dead for a long time. It were Seth and Leah who got to be weak today, "I'll come over right away."
"Thank you, Jake."
"Yeah, see you, Dad."
I hung up the phone carefully, ignoring the primal urge to clash it into the station. Breathing deeply, I went into my room, turning on the heater (something I had not done in quite a while), throwing some of my laundry underneath my bed, kicking some of the trash there, too. My attempt at cleaning was poor and I knew it, but it would do. Plus, I knew Bella did not care the slightest about this, about outer appearance or prestige. It was not who she was.
Grabbing my father's medication from his nightstand on my way, I went back to the living room, seeing that Bella was still sound asleep, her fingertips brushing along the carpet now.
I brushed a strand of loose hair from her face, my heartbeat picking up speed as I felt her shiver unconsciously beneath my touch, her lashes flickered for a splint second. Gently, careful not to wake her up, I pulled the blanket from her fragile body, pushing my arms beneath her back and knees, lifting her against my chest.
She was so insanely light, almost like nothing in my arms, her head pressing against my chest, the dampness of her breathing warm against my skin.
My stomach was fluttering as I carried her into my room, sadness and anger dominating my mind. This should be different. I had imagined carrying her into my room, gently lowering her onto my bed so many times, in so many dreams and fantasies. But in those she was always awake, her soft lips demanding against my own, her naked skin pressed against every inch of mine, her hands holding on to me. She should not be recovering from a near-death-experience, should not be asleep and helpless in my arms. I should not have to rest her head on my pillow, pulling my blanket over her cold body. It was wrong.
Her eyes had fluttered a little when I had lowered her onto the bed and the warmth of my skin had disappeared, but she immediately sank back into her slumber when she cuddled closer to my pillow.
"Jake," she murmured in her sleep, her pale fingers clutching my blanket, pulling it closer to her.
I leaned closer to her, hoping she would sense me somehow, and chastely brushed my lips over her forehead.
"It'll be alright, Bells," I murmured, laying a note next to her on the pillow, saying where I was and that I would be back as soon as I could.
It felt wrong leaving her on her own, and I was scared of what would happen should she wake up before I returned. Whatever had happened at the cliffs earlier, it had reasons that were beyond my understanding, and as I closed the front door behind me, fear overcame me. Utter fear that I had read her wrong, that she did not feel about me as I felt about her.
And I felt nothing but her these days. My every thought was somehow related to Bella, I found a piece of her everywhere I looked and went.
The first drops of rain started to drizzle from the sky, and I began to walk faster down the deserted street.
x
The slight drizzle from earlier had turned into a raging downpour, my hair sticking to my forehead, and the denim of my jeans sticking uncomfortably to my thighs as I sprinted through the dark streets of La Push, the streetlights never really doing a good job in lightening up anything other than the colonies of moths that lived there.
My fingers were curled to fists, my eyes staring straight ahead, legs pushing me faster, always closer to my run-down house.
It was a rare thing these days that I was being pulled there like a magnet. But, since usually my desire to be somewhere was linked to wherever Bella was, it was a logic conclusion. I needed to be with her. And even more, I needed her to need me around.
I raced up the porch steps, lucky to get out of the rain when I entered the dim house. Even though I never got cold in the rain anymore, I still despised it.
Quietly, I closed the door behind me, concluding from the silence and darkness in the house, that Bella was still asleep. But the second the door fell closed, I heard heavy breathing, the sound causing my chest to clench painfully. What was wrong?
The heavy, slightly muffled breathing continued, and I found myself racing towards the closed door of my room. As the sounds got louder, they became much clearer, soft whimpers mingled with sharp intakes and throaty outtakes of breath.
In retrospect, I was extremely grateful that I had oiled the hinges of my door the week before, because when I pushed it open, it made no sound, no screech, and nothing was scattered on the floor which it could have bumped into.
Nothing that could have disturbed what was happening inside my room, nothing, not even the sound of my voice, because the worried Bells was choked in my throat as my eyes widened at the sight in front of me.
I tried very hard to remember every single detail about how I had gotten from the Clearwater's house to my own, going over every step, ever drop of rain, every streetlight over and over again, needing reassurance that this was not a dream because it could not be happening. Not to me, the eternal second best, second in line. It. Could. Just. Not. Be. Real.
But the feeling of all my blood rushing south, the tightening in my lower abdomen and the straining against my jeans felt too real, everything was too real to be just another hopeless dream.
It was real.
Bella was still laying in my bed, face down, her damp clothes in a heap on the floor next to my bed, instead wearing one of my old shirts, the red color like a warning signal for me, her hair spilled all over my pillow, her left hand buried beneath her body, the right gripping my sheets so hard that her skin turned scary white, strained against her knuckle. The fabric of my blanket was bunched up… right between her slender, creamy thighs, my eyes glued to her white cotton panties, grinding against the fabric over and over again, a little bit faster and harder each time, pushing her entire lower body flat against my mattress.
I just kept staring, the heady scent in the room filling my nostrils, my chest rumbling, Bella's whimpers and - I could now define it - moans like church bells to my ears.
The muscles in her thighs contracted each time Bella ground herself against my blanket, a choked sound escaping her lips each time, and images flooded my head of what her hand was doing that was hidden from my sight, just like her face. God, what I would give to see her face. Flushed, lips parted, eyes closed.
My hand started to instinctively move toward the straining bulge in my jeans, but I made a fist instead, holding myself back, not wanting to take advantage of anything. It felt wrong already standing here, watching her in such a private moment, in a situation I never thought I would ever get to see her in.
Bella started to rotate her hips, pushing her core even more forcefully against the blanket, and a particularly loud moan escaped her lips, the throaty sound almost like a groan, a sound I was fighting to hold back so hard.
I needed to do something, anything. But what? I saw two options, two very obvious things to do. But the increasingly rapid speed and force of Bella's grinding, almost desperate as I noticed, her sounds and the scent, pretty much the content of all my fantasies laid out in front of me, made it difficult to think straight enough o make a decision.
I could just sneak out of my room, close the door, and pretend nothing ever happened. But as Bella really, truly groaned into my pillow, her fist clenching even harder around my sheets, I knew I could never pretend I had not seen this. Heard this. Smelled this. Done this so many times in my dreams.
But revealing my presence to her? Hey, Bells, I'm back, just letting you know. No. She would be humiliated, mortified, she would never again be able to look into my eyes, no matter how often I might tell her that it doesn't matter. It would destroy what I had built up so slowly and with so much love.
"Unngh…"
I squeezed my eyes shut, tried to control my breathing, tried to ignore the throbbing ache in my abdomen. Shit. I needed to decide. Fast.
But then Bella took the decision out of my hands.
"Jake," she moaned into my pillow, the voice raspy, needy, desperate. I opened my eyes, only to see that I had not been caught. Instead, I saw Bella had arched her back, pressing her middle harder and faster against my bed, her hair forming a curtain around her face.
"Jake," she whispered again, unaware of my physical presence in the room, and it was enough justification for me to unclench my fingers, fully stepping into my room and slowly, quietly stepping across the floor towards my bed.
I found option number three.
Careful not to let the impact of my weight give me away too soon, I kneeled on my bed behind Bella, who was so lost in her own world that she never noticed, her moans turning more and more desperate and loud. The scent radiating from her was intoxicating, making my head dizzy, my hands clutching the sheets beneath me as I slowly slid closer to Bella.
My shirt that Bella was wearing was much too big for her, the fabric already halfway up her back, exposing the pale, smooth expanse of skin of her lower back to me, the dip of her spine, the lacy top of her underwear against her pale skin, everything too real, too much her, too much of what I wanted so desperately.
Being so much closer, I could see the way her thighs were quivering, the hand fisting my sheets trembling from the effort, her breathing muffled by my pillow.
Just as she released another breathy moan, her entire body shivering, I quickly slid the warm palms of my hands over the exposed skin of her lower back and underneath the red shirt, feeling the goose bumps all over her skin for the fragment of a second before all movement froze beneath me.
"Don't," I whispered quickly, leaning my entire body over Bella's so my mouth was right by her head, my words spilling right into her ear, "Please, don't stop."
Slowly, I started to move my fingers across the incredible smooth skin of her back, my breathing hitching as I realized she was not wearing a bra. How could she be even softer than I had imagined so often?
"Please don't stop, Bells," I repeated, my voice as strained as my jeans, but I tried to keep my weight of her, nothing but my breath and hands touching her, damp against her ear and warm against her back, feeling every ridge of her spine, the shiver beneath my touch, the raise of her shoulder blades, her squirming when my fingertips grazing the sensitive skin where her back melded into her stomach.
"Don't stop," I pleaded now, my fingers digging a little bit more forceful into her skin, my thumbs running along the lacy hemline of her underwear, her hips buckling beneath me.
"Jake."
There it was again, the breathy, throaty whisper of my name coming from her lips, so close to me now.
It was enough encouragement for me to let my hands roam across the expanse of her back again, my fingertips always just around the edge, teasing, still a little unsure about what to do. I wanted to do this right, the situation so much different from how I had pictured it in my mind.
But when Bella started to slowly, carefully this time, grind her middle against my blanket, her breathing picking up again, I knew that holding back was the worst thing to do right now.
Leaning a little closer to her, I let my hands brush over her sides again, the whimper coming from her lips making it almost impossible to fight the urge to press myself against her, if even just a little bit.
My fingertips brushed over her flat stomach, feeling her muscles quiver beneath my touch, meeting in the middle before they started drawing lazy circles on her soft skin, moving higher and higher.
The warmth of her skin was so different from how it usually felt, the movement of her hips beneath me causing me to groan against my will, the soft moan coming from Bella almost simultaneously really making me feel that this was not just her anymore, but us.
As my hands moved higher up her stomach, I could see her arm starting to move again in my peripheral vision, moving in short, rough jerks, tense, desperate.
Before I realized how high my hands had moved, my fingertips suddenly bumped against the raise of Bella's breast, her breathing hitched, her hips grinding harder than ever against the blanket.
"Jake," she moaned, her grip on my sheets easing, as she manoeuvred her free hand beneath her as well, twisting it so she could rest her small hand over one of mine, fingertips digging deep into my skin.
Groaning against the side of her head, I moved my hands further, feeling hers drop down onto the mattress, cupping both of her breasts gently in my hands, the tips of my fingers brushing along her hardened nipples.
It was as if something snapped in that moment, Bella's loud moan triggering a primal instinct inside of me, my hips grinding down, while Bella raised her own away from the bed, seeking me instead, meeting the aching bulge in my shorts. I grabbed her breasts harder at the feeling of her pressed against me, another breathy moan of my name the reward.
I pulled one of my hands out from underneath the shirt, Bella's pleading whimper causing me to grind against her again, pushing her a little further into the mattress. My other hand started to touch every inch of her skin, palming her breasts, feeling every tiny rise and fall of her nipple, sensing her shivers as I brushed across them.
While Bella continued to grind her core against my bed, every sweet whimper coming from her lips causing myself to push myself a little more forcefully against her, I gently trailed the bare skin of Bella's arm with my fingertips, pushing my arm alongside hers until my fingertips reached the place Bella's hand disappeared beneath the hemline of her panties.
"Jake," she whispered again, turning her head so I could see her face. Her eyes were heavy-lidded, cheeks flushed, lips parted, her breathing still ragged, and the dampness now fanning across my face.
"Bells," I whispered back, smiling very slightly, just a twitch of my lips before I pressed them against her flushed cheeks, feeling her warm skin beneath my nervous touch, her soft sigh. Gently, feather-lightly, I trailed my lips across her jaw toward her own lips, parted, sighing, moaning every time my other hand brushed against the sensitive skin of her breast. The movement of our hips had stilled, but the second I pressed my lips against hers, I pushed my waiting hand beneath Bella's, thereby replacing her own.
I could feel rather than hear her moan against my lips, her fingertips digging into my skin, holding on as my own slipped between her folds, my hips involuntarily grinding down hard against her, pushing her so far into the mattress that our hands were trapped and my fingertips were the only thing left with space to move.
Bella's lips were urgent against mine, her hips buckling as I hesitantly started to move my fingers, feeling the wetness, sliding my fingers over the bundle that caused Bella to press herself against my hand so hard the blood circulation was cut off, my own hips grinding down against hers untamed now, my other hand palming her breast roughly, my tongue tracing her bottom lip, feeling her open up to me as my fingers continued to rub and circle and trace and stroke, letting my instincts drive me because I didn't have a clue about what I was doing and nothing could have prepared me for this.
"Jake, please," she moaned against my lips, her tongue touching mine, wetly sliding along, her hand pressing mine harder against her wet heat, hips buckling, guiding my hand more south until my fingertip started to slide inside of her.
She whimpered pleadingly, trying to move herself against me, my own need too agonizing to suppress anymore. In a quick movement that caused Bella to squeal in surprise, I turned her onto her back below me, my lips never leaving hers, lips fighting, my teeth nibbling slightly against her bottom lip, the taste of her fogging my mind.
Our arms more free now, Bella bunched up the red shirt until her breasts hit the warmth radiating from me, and she pressed herself up, always closer to me, until our bare chests were pressed against each other, her soft skin, her heartbeat drumming rapidly beneath me, my finger sliding deeper, her hips rising to meet me, my thumb circling her clit, her moans against my mouth urging me on.
Her hand left her chest, holding on to my side as she starting to move her hips in rhythm with my finger, heavy breathing damp against me, her sweaty fingers sliding up and down my skin, gripping, digging, stroking. I could feel my abdomen tensing as she slid her hand from my side to my stomach, her fingertips slightly moving downwards, shyly feeling my skin, the response she was getting as I pushed myself into her touch.
My mouth left hers - I needed to hear her clearer, every single sound she was making - but my lips never left her skin, trailing along her jaw, nibbling at her earlobe which caused her hand's journey to stop for a second with a shaky moan as she recollected herself. Her fingers trailed the waistline of my jeans then, and I felt myself always moving closer to her, silently pleading for her not to stop. And she never did.
Just as I gently, carefully, slid a second finger inside of her, amazed by the tight heat and the way her back arched, her breast pressing against my chest, she slid her hand beneath the loose hemline, her relatively cold fingers wrapping around my shaft and while I groaned loudly against her neck, pressing my lips against her rapidly beating carotid artery, I figured she was doing this as much on instinct as I was.
"God, Bells," I choked against her skin as she started moving her hands chastely up and down, my own fingers rubbing furious and uncontrolled circles over her wet skin now, pushing deeper and faster as her hips buckled in response.
"Jake, kiss me," she silently murmured against my ear, the tip of her nose bumping against the shell and I felt a rush of warmth through my entire body, raising me head to look down at her. The look in her eyes was full of want, need and something I had longed to see reflecting from there for so long, "Kiss me. I love you."
My lips crashed down on hers, my fingers reluctantly removing from the heat and wetness, pulling her hand out of my jeans, pushing her deep into the mattress as I started to grind myself against her warm core, the damp fabric of her underwear rubbing along the seam of my jeans, exactly where I needed her to be, her moan drowned by my lips moving against hers, my hands roaming over her side, brushing across the side of her breasts before sliding beneath her shoulders to pull her up with me, her legs falling on either side of me as she pressed herself closer against me.
Sitting on my lap, Bella began to grind herself against me just as she had done with my blanket earlier, the memory causing me to grip her harder, kiss her with more urgency, my hands digging into her waist to guide her as our movements become desperate, tense, less rhythmical.
Our lips parted again, my head burring in the crook of Bella's neck, still smelling the salt of the ocean in her hair as I pulled her closer to me.
"Say it again," I whispered against her sweaty skin, her hands wrapped around my neck, holding on as if she were afraid of falling.
"I love you, Jake."
It was all it took, those words coming from her lips, her voice so genuine and gentle. I grabbed her waist harder, pulled her rougher against me, forgetting all inhibitions I might have had, faintly hearing her moan my name, feeling her shudder above me as my world came crushing down on me, every nerve ending in my body sensitive to everything that was Bella.
Her hips twitched against mine, slight tremors running through her trembling body, goose bumps covering her skin, her breathing ragged against my cheek, her fingertips lazily running up and down my scalp.
"I love you, Jake," she repeated, kissing the side of my face softly, almost shyly after everything that had just happened.
I loosened my grip on her waist, my hands stroking up and down her spine now, my lips brushing against her neck.
"How did this happen?" I asked, still suspicious, afraid of waking up, of the bubble bursting, of the light of reality being switched on.
Bella rested her head on my shoulder, her breathing slowing down as she relaxed against me.
"I woke up and read your note and… everything smelled so much like you and my clothes were cold, there was this shirt on your chair and… I don't know, it just… I didn't really think," she whispered sleepily, and I could feel her lashes tickle my skin as she closed her eyes.
"Bells," I whispered in response, her soft hum telling me enough, that she would soon fall asleep against me, peacefully this time, "Just… don't stop, okay?"