Work Text:
Heavy clouds hang low over Forks on the second week of a heatwave. The door to her room slams closed as Jasper pushes her against it. She grabs his hair, and he hoists her up, icy touch under her bare thighs until they latch around his marble waist. For once, she revels in the cold.
“Wait”, she pants, but he cuts her off with hungry kisses, the slightest hint of teeth grazing her lips. She lets him, of course she does, before pushing him away at last.
“Chief’s not home.” He says, pointing to his ear.
“What about—” She can’t finish. The silence lingers like Edward himself is in the room, standing between them like a marble column. Her boyfriend, the love of her life who will not touch her.
“Hunting with Emmett.” The grip on her legs tightens slightly. “They must be in Alaska by now.”
Jasper doesn’t like to talk about him, the dear brother whose girlfriend he fucks on a regular basis. He must be damn good at compartmentalizing. That, and a little -a lot- of emotional manipulation, is the reason they haven’t been found out yet.
They’ve been doing this for months. Jasper could erase the guilt that eats at her whenever she lies in Edward’s arms, thinking of his brother. She never asks him to. The guilt is the least she deserves.
He breathes her in, nose buried in the spot behind her ear where blood is pounding a thousand beats per minute. She shivers, but she bares her neck to him. He licks at the thick vein.
“Sweetheart.” He growls, a low sound that ignites her insides. “Careful now.”
She holds him there by the back of the head. He could free himself; she is nothing against his brute strength, yet he doesn’t. She keeps him a second longer before releasing him. His pupils are blown wide, golden eyes gone dark, hair brushed wild from her grip.
“Bed. Now.” She says, and her back is meeting the quilted bedspread before she’s finished.
He stands at the foot of the bed, watching. His touch might be freezing, but his looks are fire on her skin. She kneels on the mattress, and he lets himself be pulled down by the starched collar of his shirt.
He lands on top of her, weight on his elbows at either side of her face. His thigh slides between hers, jean shorts hiking up higher on her legs. She shifts to get more friction, but the bastard won’t give it to her.
“Come on.” She runs her hands against his sides, trying to get to his belt. He grabs her wrists and holds them above her head.
“Say it, sweetheart.” He smiles, and she can almost believe it’s tenderness in his eyes, and not just desire. “Tell me what you want.”
“Please, pretty please fuck me already.” She rolls her eyes, raising her hips against his.
“Hm, not quite what I was looking for.” He smirks and rubs his leg against her core, just once. “Last chance.”
“Alright!” She gasps, then puts on the most innocent doe eyes she can manage. It’s easy, when he looks at her like she’s prey.
“Please,” she whispers. “I need you.”
His mouth crashes to hers. This is what it feels like, to be devoured like she’s the most delicious meal on earth, and he hasn’t eaten in decades. She’s too busy being kissed stupid to realize her clothes have vanished, and his too.
“You better not have ripped my good flannel.” She frowns, but it’s hard to be menacing when every cold inch of him is pressed against her, and he’s kissing his way down her neck, to her collarbone, lower still until his mouth closes around her nipple.
He holds her down as she shakes, cold pleasantly burning her nerve endings, sucking and licking at the tender flesh until coherent thought leaves her mind and she has to bite her wrist to silence the moans.
“Oh God.” She pushes him off, too sensitive. Her pants fill the dark room. “Fuck me. Please.”
She squeezes a hand between them, closing her fingers around him and rubbing the tip against her entrance. She’s so wet already. Sparks ignite every time she brushes her clit.
“Now hold your horses, sweetheart.” He moves her hand to the side, instead running his fingers around her entrance. Slowly, maddeningly slow, he pushes one finger inside her. She squirms against it, trying to fuck herself on it, but it’s not enough. She could scream.
“Say it, and you get what you want.” He adds a second finger, easily sliding in and out before stopping again.
She never calls him by his name. It feels forbidden on her lips, more than the sex itself. If she doesn’t say it, if she closes her eyes, she can still pretend.
“Say my name, Bella.” He whispers in her ear.
She turns her head into the pillow, walls clamping around his fingers. Then she looks back.
“Jasper.”
“Good girl.”
He slams into her in one stroke. She could cry from how good it feels. She grips his shoulders as he sets a brutal pace, driving her to madness. He could break her in half, but she screams for more.
It wasn’t like this at first. He had been gentle, entering her slowly while stroking her hip. She doesn’t need gentle now. She kisses him fiercely; she would bite and tear at his lip, if she could.
He lowers a hand between them, rubbing circles on her clit, and she sees stars. She cries out his name, again and again.
“You feel so good, sweetheart.” He says, laying a soft kiss on her cheek as he fucks her through the mattress. “So good to me.”
She moans, pressure rising inside her. “I-I’m close.” and he knows it already, knows her, so he quickens his motions until she’s gone, gasping and clenching on him as she comes.
She grabs his hands as he fucks her through it, fingers interlaced in his cold ones. Just as he knows her, she has gotten to know his body and his tells. His strokes are getting more erratic, his eyes wilder.
“Come for me, Jasper.” She says quietly, but he hears her all the same.
One last stroke and he comes, the softest noise leaving his lips as he does. She never thought a vampire could look vulnerable, before him. He stays inside her as she rubs his back; she knows he could go again, right now, and she could come many more times tonight.
She pushes on his shoulder instead, and he moves off her immediately. She feels his gaze on her back as she stretches her arms and rises. She finds her flannel under the desk, and she pulls it on, suddenly cold.
“So…see you in school?” She says, awkward, but he’s already dressed, and he stands with a hand on the windowsill.
She closes the distance between them, and he lays a kiss on her brow.
“Whenever you want, sweetheart.” He says, not quite smiling, and he’s gone.
She shuts the window behind him and gets back into bed.
It’s late, and Edward will be back tomorrow.