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In the Stacks
By : SamHill
Category: Twilight Series > Het
Views: 12761 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or make any money from this story.
Chapter List
- 1-In the Stacks
- 1
Author: Faery Queen

Title: In the Stacks

Series: Twilight

Pairing: Jacob/Renesmee (older)

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: Borderline (if not completely) Beast.

A/N: If you haven’t read the series, this won’t make sense at all. Plus, this story hasn’t been Beta’d… at all!! Please be kind and take that into account when you read it. If you’d like the chance to stretch those Beta fingers, let me know. My email is in my profile.

In the Stacks

He found her in the stacks, shelving the last of the books from a day’s worth of students doing last minute cramming for the upcoming finals. She had her back to him and her iPod on with the music blaring. And, he noted – a lascivious grin spreading across his broad, golden-tan features – she was wearing the delicate, floral-patterned chiffon skirt that had him completely hard in under sixty seconds.

He crept forward stealthily, his body moving like a great jungle cat – all sinuous flesh and hard muscles – until he was just behind her. He growled once, forcing only the slightest modicum of change on his body to boost the wolfish sound past what should have been human vocal cords. It was a test of sorts and she passed with flying colors by remaining blissfully unaware of his presence.

He took a moment to go over his options: A slow seduction or a forceful taking, the latter of which he knew she wanted most. Or would want, if she were being given the choice. But the moment she shifted and her scent hit his nose – a perfect combination of jasmine and white gardenia with a hint of citrus – his ability to think rationally, humanly, was lost.

In the next instant he was on her, twisting her around and pressing her against the sturdy oak bookshelves so that his tongue could plunder her mouth and smother her cries even as his hands wrecked havoc on her clothes. She struggled ferociously, but where a month ago he would have thought her trying to break free, now he understood that this was only another part of the game. There was no smell of fear on her, only dark, feral desire that easily rivaled his own.

“I know what you want,” he growled after letting his vocal cords shift back momentarily. She literally moaned at the slightly sinister promise of his tone. He swallowed the sound down whole, unwilling to give up even that much of her.

She fought as he reduced her blouse to shreds, letting the material fall to decorate the sparse furniture and piles of books in strips of dark green silk. He mourned it briefly before recalling how he actually had always preferred it on the floor rather than on her. The skirt, however, he took far more care with; it featured prominently in several other long-coveted fantasies of his.

He scanned the few articles of furniture that stood in the room; bookshelves, table, chair... He required something sturdy for what he intended and finally settled on the chair because of the pseudo-leather seat. He maneuvered her around quickly, turning her back to him, and he dragged her down to her knees before bending her over the seat cushion.

He gazed down at her naked back and the eyes that were nearly black anyways turned obsidian with barely contained carnal hunger. “Yes,” he hissed, the first to break the charged silence.

Her submission to him was total as she grabbed what parts of the cushion she could. She knew without a doubt what he was going to do to her and even though it was dirty – fuck, even though it was wrong to want it, forbidden and so goddamn fucking taboo to even consider doing – she wanted it. Wanted to be taken and owned by him in every which way he deemed worthy of her.

“Please.” She had been reduced to begging already, and her voice was broken and choked with emotions that would have given her mother an apoplectic shock. When he snarled out a reply, she could tell that he had already begun to shift again, his human speech replaced by that of his inner beast.

He wasted little time disrobing himself for this mating, instead simply yanking down his jeans – and sparing a silent thank you for the sudden inspiration to go commando this morning – so that he could slide out of them as he crawled forwards on his knees. His faded plaid shirt hung open, laying bare the large expanse of broad, well-muscled and darkly tanned skin. Then he fisted one hand in her hair, tugging her head back as he reached between them and tore away the last remaining barrier that separated their bodies.

Lining himself up against her, he teased the head of his cock against the slick, damp folds and listened to the soft mewls of need pouring from between her kiss-bruised lips. Then he closed his eyes, found the spool of invisible thread that irrevocable tied him to his wolf side and tugged on it.

Almost instantly, the intended parts of him began to shift and twist, taking on their other form. The hand in her fist tightened its grip but it was the one on her hip – the one holding her in place – that actually changed. The blunt fingers with their bitten down nails curled inwards, the nails lengthening into nearly lethal-sharp claws that danced dangerously over goose-pimpled flesh.

It was the brush of his fur-covered thighs against her own smooth – and fully human – ones that her crying out sharply. It was an utterly wanton sound if ever she’d made one and he strove to commit it to memory. This moment would already be remembered for the rest of his days on this plane of existence, but he took nothing for granted.

He entered her in one slow, long thrust, lifting her hips up as he canted his own until all her weight rested on her forearms braced across the chair’s seat. He gave two experimental thrusts before concentrating his energy on changing yet another aspect of himself; buried to the hilt deep within her, his cock, already full and heavy, began to grow further. It lengthened and the blunt head became more pronounced, more bulbous, as it shifted from completely human to nearly animal. She let out a strangled cry that could have been pained, but the subtle thrust back against him was the only sign he needed to know that she was very much happy with what he was doing.

As more and more of him transformed, he had to fight for dominance over his wolf side. He bared his teeth, a low, rumbling growl filling the room as his canines grew and curved. The hand on her hip gripped harder, the claws leaving long furrows in her skin; she loved being marked by him, but even now, as lust and need and want and desire fogged his brain, he made a mental note to make sure to clean any wounds received during this round of play.

“Now,” she pleaded, and he complied by sinking his teeth into the nape of her neck, not hard enough to break skin - though he doubted she would have minded – as rough a little bitch that she loved to be – but enough to mark her for at least a week.

“Mine,” he growled against her skin, his hips snapping forward as he set them at a demanding pace. She cried out again, this time her discomfort slipping through, so he pulled back just enough so that he wouldn’t bruise her on the inside. The new shape of his cock meant that every slick movement came with heightened sensitivity and he knew he wouldn’t last much longer.

It was a constant struggle to remain in human form with only specific aspects of his wolf slipping through, but it was worth the challenge. Her hoarse cries, the fine arch of her slender back, the wet heat of her clenching around him, sucking him further in made for what was undeniably the most erotic experience of his life. He lost himself in her, in their moment, as he moved them closer and closer to the edge.

Finally, when he knew her to be barely clinging to her control, he loosened her hair and slid his free hand down and around her lithe form to cup one bare breast. It was only as his fingers began to pluck and roll the pebble-hard nipple that he realized she had been braless all day. The thought that she had done that for him was what pushed him over the brink and as he slammed home once more – this time cock human again – he let out a long, low howl.

They collapsed together against the chair then slid down into a heap on the floor, panting from exertion. She turned and curled against him, head coming to rest on his broad shoulder, hand playing over his smooth, hairless chest. Her fingers brushed over his still-sensitive nipples and he groaned loudly. He could hear her smothered giggle, feel her breathy laughter skating across his sweat-dampened skin and he grinned. After a long moment she spoke.

“You changed back, at the end.”

“I was too close and I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“You weren’t hurting me!”

He rolled to his side, displacing her, and looked down into her wide, inquiring gaze. “We’re walking a thin enough line here as it is, you know that. What we just did borders on illegal; that dark grey area that could easily land me in jail – or very, very dead – if your father or mother ever found out. But have you any clue what happens when a wolf reaches its peak?” He smiled gently at her faint blush and brushed her bangs back away from her face. “The head expands, locking them into place, and as wonderful as your body is, it wasn’t made for that. Orgasm can last up twenty minutes; something like that could damage you more than I’m willing to risk.”

“You love me,” she whispered, and all he could do was nod as he pulled her once more into the shelter of his arms.

“I do,” he said into the otherwise silent room.
- 1
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In the Stacks	By : SamHill Category: Twilight Series > Het Views: 12761 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or make any money from this story.

In the Stacks