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The Season For It	By : IcarusComplex Category: Twilight Series > Het Views: 8510 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight, or any of the characters from it; nor do I make any money from this writing. It'd be nice though.

Chapter List
- 1-The Season For It
- 1
Repost of an old story, reworked. It hasn't been Beta'd (though if anyone would like to volunteer...) The re-writing kind of got away from me; I blinked and it had expanded. Like space jelly.
As a point of caution: there is a brief point where it goes all out rape-y but it's short, and Jake reins himself in pretty quickly.

The Season For It
    A twig snapped underfoot, echoing like a gunshot to his newly acute hearing. Jacob jumped back a step. Cursing his luck at finding what had to be the only dry stick in the Olympic Peninsula, he froze and cocked his ears forward. A full ten seconds went by. No change.
    Letting out a breath, he continued towards the intriguing sound.
    Why would someone have a radio on out in the forest? Okay, so not everyone was so aware of the stupidity of wandering around the forest while there was an infestation of bloodsuckers living next door, but seriously: why. Why would you be that moronic? The day had been fine, sure – by Forks standards – and it hadn’t rained, but come on. That didn’t explain why he was hearing music all the way out here.
    Common sense said don’t go into the dark scary forest after the sun goes down. Didn’t it?
    The strains of music continued unbroken. Now a faint melody had began to creep through the bass pulsing through the earth underfoot. Jacob padded forwards again, satisfied the snap had gone unheard. Tail brushing through the damp mast of the forest floor, he sunk to his belly to sneak up to the edge of the clearing the music trickled out from.
    What crawling up to the edge of the clearing revealed stopped him dead. Someone was dancing around in the moonlight. Half-naked.
    Sure, okay, she was clothed. Sort of. Jean shorts and a loose wifebeater didn’t go a long way in these woods. And she might as well have been bare-assed for the way she was moving.
    The girl, maybe seventeen or eighteen, threw herself from side to side sinuously as kelp caught in a swell—or as if possessed by demons.
    Were demons real? He’d have to ask Sam later…
    Hands made their way up and down her sides, now tangled in her hair, now cupped around her knees as she rocked down to the shin-high grass.
    Jacob cocked an invisible eyebrow. Right. She couldn't have found some quiet little corner of town to practice for her talent contest? He rested his chin on the leaf litter, amber eyes fixed on the girl writhing her body to the music in the clearing.
    What the hell was she doing out here? The girl slid her hands up her thighs and over her hips, straying around to brush her back pockets. Jacob narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Maybe she was with the bloodsuckers.
    Mm, no; she wasn't 'glittery', he thought, with the emphasis of disgust on the last word. Human then. Didn't she know it was dangerous to be out in the middle of Buttsville, Nowhere in a forest at night? Especially this forest.
    Maybe not; she didn't look familiar. Maybe she was from out of town. An instinct rose in Jacob, new but familiar: he should tell Sam. The rest of the pack was back in La Push, barbequing skewers for dinner. Jacob had wanted to stretch his legs. Now he was thinking that was a very lucky twist of fate. He should report to Sam. The Alpha had to know people were wandering around in dangerous territory... but Jacob didn't want to leave. He stayed where he was.
    The girl danced on, oblivious. Long black hair tied into two neat braids flopped back and forth over her shoulder, whole chunks escaping to frame a face bleached by the moon. Rough bangs ended short of her chin. Her eyes were closed. Her mouth was slightly open.
    Not a fighter, then. And not particularly aware of her surroundings. He huffed. Stupid. She was just asking to be snuck up on.
    The source of the music was a small set of white speakers on the ground by a rock. Atthe moment they pumped out Muse's 'Sunburn'. Something dark was draped across the rock, maybe a jacket. So, she hadn't come out here half-naked, she was just in the habit of stripping off in random locations. Great. A mostly empty hiking pack sagged against the side of the rock. Beside it was a set of discarded hiking boots, laces fuzzy and frayed. His eyes strayed back to the girl— now swinging her hips in time to the hypnotic beat.
    Actually, she was a pretty good dancer. He wriggled, settling in the damp leaf litter. It was like she was straining to actually melt into the music. There was something – what was Quil’s word of the week? – ‘sensual’ about her movements. No, scratch that: sexual. Seductive. Her small hands draped themselves on her hips, sliding up and down with rhythmic languor, caressed her stomach, arched towards the sky as she shook out her braids... He jumped guiltily as those hands dragged down her neck and forward over the swell of her breasts, pulling the singlet tight over them for a moment. But she only did it once, biting her lip. As if she was embarrassed by her own boldness. Jacob had a passing thought to wonder what that would feel like if they were his hands – and Bella’s breasts – but the girl’s swinging hips caught his attention again.
    It was quite enthralling to watch. She rotated her hips to the rhythm and rolled her ribcage, dancing with her eyes squeezed shut.
    She swayed faster—more seduction in every move. Her hands gravitated towards her hips, ribs, thighs… Like she wanted to touch herself but didn't dare. Jacob shifted forwards unconsciously, eyes burning into the figure as she etched herself on the insides of his eyelids. All thoughts of Bella forgotten, he focused solely on Her in the clearing, images burning and re-burning into his eyelids with every beat. The wind shifted, carrying the mingled scents of sweat and shampoo to his nose. Jacob sniffed the breeze again, tilting his head. She smelled good. Really good. Another scent under-laid the first two; he ignored it, unable to put a name to the taste on the breeze.
    Again, there was a shift in the pace when the song changed. He almost snorted. Boys of Summer had some very pertinent lyrics. The girl was familiar with the song, mouthing the lyrics as she swayed. At this point, he'd almost forgive her for wandering into the middle of the Olympic Peninsula Reserve, just so long as she kept moving. A whine forced its way out of his throat but he kept absolutely still, ignoring the faint warmth flickering to life low down in his body.
    Her courage was back. The girl dropped into the grass, sliding her hands down her thighs as she split her legs in a crouch. She came up with her hands dragging over the crotch of the jean shorts, pulling up the singlet as they passed over her midriff and skimmed her breasts again. This time they paused to cup each for such a brief second Jacob was sure he had imagined it. Releasing her breasts, they flowed up one side of her neck together and into the air. Jacob remembered to breathe a moment later.
    The girl swayed and gyrated to the slower beat of a verse, writhing as her muscles flexed and rolled. The pace picked up as another chorus burst out of the speakers and she ran her hands up her sides. On the return this time they bypassed her chest and curled around her hips. Jacob’s eyes widened. Splaying her fingers over the back pockets of her shorts, she bent at the hips and pushed her rear out in a full circle, rolling her shoulders on the rebound.
    Then she opened her eyes and looked straight at where Jacob was hidden. He tensed, crouched fully phased on the ground.
    For a split second, their eyes met and a bolt of electricity scorched through Jacob's body—everything from his nose to the tip of his tail electrified.
    He went rigid. No way had she just seen him. No way! ‘Fuck!’
    Wait...
    He must have been mistaken. She apparently hadn't seen him because she merely blinked and continued scanning the clearing, feeling something off, maybe. She hadn't stopped dancing, whatever unease she felt, and after a moment she let her eyes drift closed again. With her drop in attention, her concentration turned inward—exactly where Jacob’s awakening sex drive wanted it to go. The movements, sinuous and serpentine as they groped with increasing fervor at her body, became blatantly erotic.
    Leaves crumpled beneath him as he rocked forward, pushing down. The pressure sent frisson up his spine. Jacob faltered, jaw dropping open. Trying to repeat the sensation, his hind legs splayed further and his hips pressed harder against the forest floor. The foliage of his concealing tree brushing his fur was distracting, but not overly so. The girl brushed her fingers over her cheek and sucked the tips of two teasingly into her mouth, letting them catch on her lower lip. Jacob jerked as his hips pumped forward. The corners of his mouth pulled down: they had done that of their own accord.
    He froze, realising abruptly what he had been unconsciously doing. Ignored by his conscious mind, his unconscious had been taking care of something without bothering to let his higher functions know. Now deprived of friction, his groin throbbed angrily.
    How had he honestly not noticed that? In the clearing, the girl threw her hips out in another grass-flattening drop and undulated on the rise. Her fingers toyed with the hem of the singlet. Her other hand wrapped around a strap and tugged it off her shoulder, sliding underneath to stroke her collarbone.
    Jacob swallowed hard. Ah. That was how. It was more than that though, he thought, biting his lip as a spike of heat lanced through him; the girl had just thumbed the top button of her shorts’ fly.
    He wasn't so out of control he could get off by watching girls dance, however raging his hormones might have been. In answer, a memory drifted through his mind. Sam had mentioned something about 'going into heat’ as part of growing into his were-self earlier that week, only he called it rut. Like deer. Jacob hadn't really paid much attention but he remembered sniggering. Ah, he should have known that would come back to bite him in the ass.
    He grimaced. It would have been nice to get a little more warning than Sam's vague comment, though. Still, there was a simple way to deal with it. If he was game. Not like he hadn’t done it a thousand times before… but in the open? To an actual girl, not just his own imagination?
    Another pulse of painful heat informed him that yes, he was game. He was never going to live this one down, he lamented, and rocked back onto his haunches. Scanning the surrounding woods briefly, he phased back to human form. He crouched in the darkness of the forest around the clearing. Future note to self: shifting with a hard-on: not recommended.
    He had a hand on himself before reality struck back with a vengeance. Knowing he had to be bright red, Jacob sent up a prayer of thanks that none of the pack were around. If they had been, he would never ever live this down. As it was...
    The music flowed into a husky male voice growling about sending an angel. Jacob’s eyes flicked away from the dark trees to the girl in time to see her palm her crotch in earnest, tongue flicking out over her upper lip. His hand clenched and he bit back a grunt.
    He’d thought his libido, to use Emily’s word, was being optimistic, but hell, if he sat there long enough, he could jerk off to a girl getting herself off.
    No: he needed this now. What she did was her own business, just so long as she didn’t stop. Jacob shook off his embarrassment and got comfortable. It wasn't like she would know...
    He hissed as he readjusted his grip and flicked his wrist a few times experimentally before setting the pace best timed to bring himself off faster. No sense in drawing it out. He realised it might be a while before he had this opportunity again – if ever – but the thought of putting himself off just for that seemed too torturous to even contemplate.
    Jacob kept his eyes fixed on the writhing figure and bit back his moans while he stroked himself. Who needed an imagination when they had this playing out in front of them? Just the same, he figured he'd have a few music-themed dreams before the month was out.
    The girl fully cupped her breasts now, squeezing and kneading as she twisted her hips. Her nipples stood out clearly against the light grey of her singlet. Jacob now freely gave in to the urge to imagine doing that to a girl—heck, to her. Bella was barely a ghost in his memory at this point. The warm fullness in his hands, the girl’s nipples hard against his palms…
    He chewed his lip, leaning forward as he threw a twist into his strokes.
    Pulling her down into his lap, sucking her tongue into his mouth as he dove a hand into those little shorts he was starting to hate. In his head, he discovered she had no panties on beneath the denim. He groaned out loud. The heat coiling low in his abdomen redoubled. That same scent curled around him like wood-smoke, tantalisingly familiar but maddeningly elusive. It was musky, and rich, and peculiarly spicy. Every breeze brought heavier currents of it. He could practically taste it on his tongue and the thick sweetness to it only made him more delirious. He opened his mouth and breathed in deeply.
    The girl dipped a hand down her stomach into the top of her shorts. Jacob did so much more than that in his fantasy. Spreading her slit, he plunged two fingers into the slick heat of her pussy. She was so ready for him…
    Jacob could already feel his muscles starting to tense in preparation for release. Damn, if this Rut thing was going to happen a lot he'd need to find a more ordered way to deal with it. In his head, the girl clawed at his bare shoulders and bucked her hips, tensing around his fingers. Although he’d never heard her speak, she moaned his name and wriggled her shorts – now undone – down her thighs to give him better access. In the clearing, she slid a hand up her singlet and fabric rippled as she thumbed a nipple.
    Jacob shifted rigidly, his knees grinding into the dirt under the leaf litter as he altered his body angle slightly, finding just the right spot, and... there! The heat compacted into a single bright spot—release was just a little higher. Jacob panted, sweat sticking his loose hair to his forehead as he stared into the clearing. In his head, the girl threw her body up against him as she came hard around his fingers with a scream. He tightened his grip and jerked in a single smooth stroke from root to tip.
    A light breeze ruffled his hair. The wind had shifted again. Jacob went rigid went a nauseatingly familiar scent hit his nose.
    He doubled over as arousal soured into the urge to vomit.
    'Vampire!'
    Release forgotten, he leapt backward free of his tree to scan the woods mid-phase, landing on all four paws. He glared into the darkness, trying to locate the offending leech. His upper lip retracted to bare gums in an automatic snarl. Nothing moved in the blur of the trees. He swung his head back to the clearing.
    A movement in the forest across the clearing alerted him. Stalking closer to the light brought him into clearer focus: the vampire looked vaguely familiar. Jacob searched his memories for the face as he lurched into a half-crouched posture of aggression. He was still concealed by the same tree as before.
    Recognition struck. That was where Jacob recognized him from.
    The male from the Cullen clan hunkered in the shadow of a tree, a heavy pine, watching the girl's every move with hunger blatant in his eyes. She had pulled out her braids and was shaking them out with rhythmic tosses of her head. The vampire’s eyes followed her as she swayed her torso closer to the grass, walking her fingers down the front of her thighs as she bent from the hip.
    Jacob calculated the respective distances between them and realized that, if it came down to it, Jasper would reach the girl before he would. And here was the clincher: Jasper knew Jacob was there. As the girl dropped her rear to the level of her knees, Jasper met Jacob’s stare over her bent back and his eyes flashed.
    It had to be Jacob’s night or something. The only dry stick in Washington, the only person in Forks a vampire had decided to target. It occurred to Jacob as he studied the impasse with growing consternation that the whirling figure was dancing along the treaty boundary line. If he could get her across this side, he could protect her. How though? He needed to be phased to defend against the leech. But if he simply jumped out of the undergrowth, she'd freak and run in the other direction: straight into the waiting arms of a ravenous bloodsucker.
    Puzzling over this, he shot a silent snarl at the crouching vampire, who bared his teeth in response. They stared each other down in a mute battle for dominance, all the while both keeping an eye on the twisting shadow-figure in the clearing—who still hadn't sensed anything. Weird, given it seemed like she’d picked up on Jacob almost immediately. Jacob almost pitied her that careless oblivion.
    He drew his upper lip back over his fangs and glared across the clearing, thinking quickly. Jasper rose to take a noiseless step toward the clearing. A lull in the music dropped ambient sound to nil.
    Jacob tensed—but the girl went totally rigid. Her head flicked around like a wet towel aimed at a patch of bare skin and suddenly she was casing the surrounding trees with wide eyes and bared teeth of her own in an instant. She teetered on the edge of flight. Fear drenched the sweet smell that had been blowing past Jacob's little hollow—and all of it overpowered by the domineering stink of vampire.
    She knew. Jacob wasn't sure how exactly, but somehow, she knew.
    Odd. Even he hadn't heard the blond immortal move.
    Without even grabbing her speakers, she bolted—straight into Jasper's iron hold. She rebounded with the force of her run. Jasper latched onto her upper arms with the speed of a bear trap springing and put all his teeth on show. He had her caught.
    The fear scent vanished. To Jacob's complete surprise, she didn't scream. She did cock her fist and deck Jasper across the face. Jacob winced at the loud crunch as something in her hand cracked. Now she screamed.
    As she cried out in pain, Jasper gave her a malevolent fanged smile and loomed over her. The girl bent backwards as he pushed her down.
    Cradling her broken hand, she twisted and jammed her shoulder into his sternum. The bloodsucker pushed her away and thumped her, back first, into his body, locking her arms against her sides with an arm like an iron band around her waist. He freed a hand of his own. Knotted into her braid-kinked hair, it wrenched her head to the side, stretching her neck until the tendons stood out. Dinner was served.
    He dropped his head.
    Time to step in. Jacob unleashed a howl and surged across the clearing. Ten feet from them he resumed the half-crouched attack posture: shoulders high, chest expanding as he puffed up. Jasper narrowed his eyes.
    Jacob’s hackles stood up and his ears flattened against his skull, but he stood his ground. Copping a faceful of fear scent again, he dipped his head into offensive position, lips straining back from his gums. The vampire raised his chin and gritted out a sharp response.
    The girl struggled all the harder against Jasper, but his grip didn't loosen—his fingers dug into her upper arm so hard white patches were spreading around his fingertips while the predator himself ignored her, hissing territorially at Jacob. He was holding the girl between himself and Jacob. Unable to look up at Jasper, she stared slantways at Jacob, her eyes wide again above a grimace.
    Jacob jolted half a step forward with a choppy growl. The Cullen took a step back—dragging the girl with him. Here Jacob got his opening: Jasper had stepped over a raised root to retreat, and the girl unexpectedly got her feet onto it. She bent her legs and used it as a spring-board. Distracted by Jacob and unprepared for the shove, Jasper tripped over a second root.
    The jolt of impact loosened the bloodsucker’s hold. The girl scrambled away the instant she regained her feet with her hand clutched to her chest and sprinted for the satchel that lay on the ground beside the speakers.
    Only down for a moment, the leech leapt after her. Jacob went to follow. Jasper skidded to a halt when the girl whirled with a fencing saber in her hands and a fierce light of terror and threat searing her eyes. Jacob had seen thin, light blades like it in the Regency-era movies Rachel liked, but never met anyone goofy enough to train with one in real life. The edge flashed dully in the moonlight but it looked sharp. Jacob noted Jasper had drawn back half a step—for the first time, Jacob saw uncertainty battling with the hunger in his eyes.
    Jacob’s eyes skipped to the girl. Left-handed, with the damage inflicted, she needed both hands to hold the sword. The strain showed in the sweat that sprung up around her hairline. Jacob noted pain etched in the new lines around her eyes – heard the crunch as bone scraped on bone. The tip weaved an unsteady figure-8 in the air. The girl flinched as the sword teetered in her grip. She whimpered but tightened her hold; the pain of a broken hand seemed to be outweighed by the idea of painful death at the hands of an undead bloodsucker. It occurred to Jacob to wonder why the hell she knew about leeches – or if she really understood what was going on – but it wasn't the issue at hand.
    He snorted a lupine laugh at the leech's expression. The uncertainty was gone. Where she'd pulled the sword from, Jacob had no idea, but it was worth the confusion just to see the sheer frustration on the leech's face. He wasn't interested in a tough meal, clearly.
    Scowling, the white-skinned man lingered, eyeing the sword now held steadily toward his sternum. She raised the tip to his eye-level and exhaled through her nose, nostrils flaring. Her shoulders lowered an inch as her jaw tightened. Irrationally a voice popped up in Jacob’s mind howling, ‘Tonight we dine in Hell!’. He stifled it with difficulty and ducked his head a little deeper.
    The bloodsucker’s eyes drifted from the girl to the wolf hulking a few metres away baring its own fangs at him. Finally, it seemed the bloodsucker decided it wasn't worth the risk: he left with a bitter hiss at Jacob.
    The tiny snaps and rustles of his passing in the forest faded within moments. The tableau in the clearing remained motionless for some minutes more, both waiting to see if he would return. At length, the girl relaxed. The normal night-time noises had resumed: cicadas chirruping, rustling feathers. Their return tipped the werewolf off to something. He could have smacked himself. Of course she’d known something was up: moments before the bloodsucker appeared, the forest noises went silent. The speakers had nearly blotted them out entirely, but now that Jacob was aware of them, they were nearly deafening in their omnipresence. The rumble from his own chest dropped off as he listened.
    In the middle distance he heard the muted woosh of air as an owl swooped down on something. Leaves rustled as something small foraged. But no sounds of a vampire returning.
    Satisfied that the threat was ended, he turned his yellow eyes to the girl. She swung around to face him in an instant, raising the sword point that had dipped after the vampire left the clearing. Her chest was heaving with the effort and adrenaline. Jacob could actually smell it thrumming, acrid and thick, through her veins.
    He shook his head in the rough equivalent of a 'no'. It took her a moment, but, warily, she lowered the blade. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. Now that they were open, Jacob could see they were brown—although they looked black in the low light. Clouds were rolling back in over the moon.
    They stood and stared at one another for what felt like a century. Jacob’s back leg began to itch. Before he could break the truce and risk upsetting her again though, she cocked her head and backed up a careful step. With no movement from him (seemingly discounted him as a threat) she half-turned to sheath the sword Jacob could now see was definitely sharp. One eye stayed on him the whole time.
    Jacob relaxed out of his quasi-crouch and raised his head. What, a giant wolf wasn't as scary as a geisha reject with bad teeth and a blood habit? He wondered if he should be offended.
    "Don't be aroused... by my confession," husked the radio, "unless you don't give a good Goddamn about redemption..."
    She glanced back it and snorted under her breath. Her scent was shifting again, possibly similar to Jacob's automatic relaxation now that the threat was gone. He wondered if she knew. He tilted his head and eyed the girl curiously. The unnamable scent was back, teasing at his memory—but he still just couldn't place it. It continued to elude him. He narrowed his eyes at her. So familiar...
    Flicking a fold of hair off her shoulder, she turned back to the clearing and jumped with a startled squeak. Jacob was standing right in front of her.
    She hadn't heard him padding up, clearly. She stood religiously still, monitoring him with animal wariness in her eyes. He could smell her. But… It was different to before. Heavier. Sweeter, if that was possible. Inviting.
    Memory clicked into place. Jacob was having a lot of luck with that, lately. Sam again. Good old Sam. Now Jacob remembered that scent. He'd picked it up on Sam after the Alpha had returned from visiting Emily: this girl smelt like arousal. Residual arousal, granted, but...
    He lowered his head to her crotch, ears flicking forward in interest, and nuzzled her. She stiffened.
    He was here now—halfway to his fantasy already. A puff of spicy-sweet stained the air around her hips. Jacob made a low noise in his throat at the replying spark that skittered from his nose to his groin. His fur stood on end, ears straining toward every small sound in her throat.
    A small part of his mind whispered that this was wrong, but how likely was he to get this chance again? She was here, and he was here, and she knew about vampires—logically, that should have meant she knew about shapeshifters too, but she didn’t seem to know how to treat Jacob. She was reacting to him as though he was a wild animal—an extraordinarily big wild animal. Another welter of the scent crashed over Jacob’s senses and sent his mind careening off over the rainbow. He decided she could think of him however she liked, just so long as she didn’t go running off. In this state he’d have to chase her. He didn’t think she’d enjoy that.
    He nosed her crotch a second time, pushing up against her with a bit more force. A tremor ran through her legs.
    Or maybe she’d enjoy being chased immensely… A grasping heat was swiftly rekindling low in his hips. Certainly he’d enjoy it. Perhaps he could persuade her to run…?
    His back leg twitched and he pressed his nose harder into her crotch. The girl whimpered. That was her first sign of fear. If he tried to make her run, she’d probably fall down again and cry, and even a Jacob half-out of his mind with… whatever this was, wasn’t so much of a monster that he’d let a girl cry and actively make it worse. His eyes and ears filled with screaming white noise as a vision hit him with all the force of Paul in a rage:
    Grabbing that pitiful singlet, shredding it off her in pieces. Her shorts following in ragged mouthfuls that abraded his tongue as she tried to crawl away. She screamed, begging and crying, pleading not to be hurt in words that barely made sense to Jacob through the wall of fire burning off every synapse. Salt churned into the syrup of fear and arousal he could nearly taste running down her bare thighs. No underwear. Just the shorts. The pink slit between her legs beckoned to him. The jumble of insensate sounds she spewed in a broken sob didn’t even scrape the wall of flame. He spat pieces of her shorts in a random direction and leapt after her. Blood burst in his mouth as he chewed into her shoulder and jerked her escape to a halt. She screamed again, clawing at his snout and falling forward when he released her to kick her back legs apart. His tail thrashed. She should hold still—it would hurt less. He had to push her hips up with his nose because the stupid bitch had forgotten her instincts—mating instincts. Didn’t everyone have them? He pressed his hips against her, aligning. He’d had to let her shoulder go for this; he hoped she appreciated that. Deep toothmarks ringed her shoulder blade, dribbling the blood that welled up black from them into the runnel of her spine. He didn’t even think about fitting into her; he was a male, and she was naked and wet for him – he could feel her against the base of his erection, the head of it leaving wet smears on her stomach – what more did she need? He pulled back, tensing, and then thrust into her. The girl screamed and went rigid. Jacob nearly whited out. All he could think of was that he wished she would stop doing that—it hurt his skull. Couldn’t she feel how good this felt, how delirious, how—
    Jacob shook the picture out of his head. A shudder ripped through him, following the exact trail of the electricity from before, the feeling strongest in the building throb in his groin. He knew he should be badly shaken by that image. He should be feeling sick.
    But all he could taste was her blood, and the tingling hint of something from the crotch of her shorts. He imagined for a second that he could actually still feel her writhing, slick, against his erection—or further, squeezing around him, so tight he thought he might pass out if he didn’t move instead.
    As seductive as the vision was – and it was near-maddening to resist the draw of having her so fast, so violently – he pushed it back, burrowing into his concentration, trying to escape the rising drive to rip, tear, fuck, by pouring all his focus into her. He wanted to get her naked—not kill her getting his rocks off. The bloodsuckers might be hot for necrophilia, but Jacob had somehow never seen the appeal.
    But even while he was lost in the rut’s mirages, the girl hadn’t stirred. She was still staring down at him. And the smell of her arousal still lingered—no longer faint, but strengthening by the minute. Why? This strange arousal had to be looked into further.
    Okay, so she’d been dancing. Touching herself. Feeling her own breasts, sensing her own nipples grow hard against her palm, sliding a hand down her pants to slide a finger into her pussy—Jacob nearly lost himself into another retroactive fantasy of striding into the clearing while she danced, before the leech had interrupted, this time foregoing the wolf-form and just throwing her down as a human man and fucking her raw.
    His vision went blurry for a second. The first scenario was looking better and better—that was bad. He ought to stop—ought to leave, before he got in trouble with this girl or his Alpha. But he couldn’t. Not with the way she looked at him in his fantasies. Not with the way his hard-on was demanding they get to know her intimately, in the real world, right-fucking-now.
    Had to focus! Had to distract! He couldn’t leave, but he couldn’t skip to the end. If he tried, he’d have no way to hit stop; fast-forward would just keep on going until he was coming back to himself fully human, body smeared with blood and his cock drenched in it.
    Her. The girl. She was his ticket out of this. His instincts were taking over—so he had to direct them into being consumed solely by the girl. Fascinated by her, they wouldn’t destroy her. Besides his own blinding lust, there was hers: the scent of her, now readily identifiable as arousal in its own right, was slowly boring holes through his skull. Jacob was gripped by the need to intensify it enough to drown him. Drown in her, not in himself.
    All of his senses amped up to eleven as blood flooded his skull and everything went into overdrive. The heavy bass of the music pounded in his ears, blood stuck on endless loop between his eyes – fogging them with red – and his crotch. Every leaf rustling was an aluminium sheet, every jump of the girl’s pulse in her throat – thumping nearly in time to the music still thrumming at the back of his awareness – a drumbeat.
    Jacob gripped the front of her shorts in his teeth and pulled at them. The denim resisted for a second, clinging to her hips, but she had, so accommodatingly to his fantasy, undone the top button while she was dancing. He was sure she’d regret that that, but he couldn’t have hoped for better—unless she wanted to strip down for him. He worked them off her hips and down to her calves.
    The girl made a noise of protest as he yanked at them and went to pull away, leaning backward. Jacob’s wolf side was inches from fully dominating his human side— and it resented the idea of losing of its plaything. As a hand gripped his ruff to push him away, he allowed a growl to rumble through his chest. The hand retracted instantly.
    He gave the shorts a shake, jostling her. She went still. Desperation was warring with fear in the play of her leg muscles next to his muzzle; a hand hovered over the side of his head as though she wanted to try pushing him away again, but it was shakily withdrawn. Jacob gave the denim another sharp tug, and the girl overbalanced.
    Tangled in her shorts, the girl fell backwards her near-bare ass in the grass. She released a sharp cry as her wrist jolted.
    Oblivious to her pain, Jacob pawed the shorts off one of her feet, although he half expected her to make a grab for them. She was in too much shock. Her movements stopped when he got one of the legs off and nosed it to the other side before looking up her expectantly. She simply stared at him, her mouth open, chest expanding and contracting rapidly. Her legs fell apart without the shorts to hold them together. Jacob swayed as scent hit him in the face like a tidal wave, dizzying. He took half a step forward and the girl squeaked—she choked off half of the sound by biting her lip, her eyes widening as she clasped her wrist to her stomach protectively.
    Disappointing to Jacob’s imagination, she was wearing panties—little black cotton boy-leg things. With her shorts around her ankles, she wore only the panties and the grey singlet creased from her grasps and pulls. Jacob recalled the way he had shredded that singlet off her in the Rut-fantasy, and recoiled from tearing at it like he wanted to. It had frightened him as much as it had turned him on—he didn’t want to start acting it out. With the thoughts though came another surge of the drive to simply loom over her as she lay there. The wolf didn’t care that the fantasy meant fucking her bloody. It just meant fucking her, tearing off those little black panties, slurping out whatever wetness was gathered between her thighs, hunkering down over her and thrusting forward. Making her scream—this time with pleasure. Wrapping her legs around his hips.
    Coaxing her into tightening as hard as she could around his cock, milking him.
    For one brief second, the Rut won out. Jacob lunged forward and snatched a mouthful of the crotch of those little black boy-legs. He tore. The girl rebounded to a sitting position like a rubber band, clutching her broken hand to her chest. Without waiting for Jacob to make a move, she went to clamp her legs together. Jacob’s growl resurfaced. She froze.
    Now she sat half-upright on her bare ass in the grass, thighs partially spread. Except for that singlet, naked as the day she was born. Jacob was leery of the singlet, but for the rest… Under a neat little puff of dark hair, her pussy lay in shadow, shaded from the struggling moonlight by one of her legs. Jacob had a sudden rush of vertigo as he was rocked by a quake originating in his groin. Right there: everything he had thought about. Fantasised. His breathing roughened as the unsteadiness in his legs threatened to spread.
    He stepped forward to cover it and thrust his muzzle between her thighs . Barefoot and now genuinely half-naked, the girl shivered as the same breeze that had carried her music-born arousal to Jacob now doused her with chilly air from the returning storm clouds. Jacob noted the goosebumps running up her thighs in stark definition to his heightened sensed, giving it the same fascination he was awarding to everything else: one more texture to be felt out under his tongue and added to the mélange of Girl.
    Later, maybe. The girl tensed. For the second time, fear bubbled up from her in a whimper. A sour note whipped through the breeze licking at his nose and Jacob grudgingly lifted his head to lick her face in a show of comfort. The wince might have made him laugh at any other time. Instead the way she screwed up her face wasn't amusing at all; his mind skipped over the grimaces and screams and moans she’d pulled in his fantasies—this was none of the above, but he knew how to get them.
    Under her singlet, her nipples stood up in the cold. Jacob hesitated as he pulled back from her face and then ran his tongue over one of the cotton-covered nubs.
    She jumped. When he drew away, there was a darker streak over her breast. He was looking for a more vocal reaction. The singlet was rough against his nose as he pressed deliberately down on her nipple. This time he heard a tiny whimper that didn’t sound quite the same as any of her previous noises. He hadn’t done anything to coax her into compliance since removing her panties. Time to change that. Jacob dropped his nose, abandoning his brief diversion with her clothed breast.
    It had to be her that was making this so abnormally arousing. Her smell, her reactiveness. Her taste thick in his mouth although he had yet to so much as touch her—for real, anyway. Ghost-sensations of her pussy clamping down around his fingers reasserted themselves. His erection throbbed with a pulse of its own, putting in feeling of the Rut’s idea of being inside the girl, sliding against her inside her slick heat.
    Jacob was certain he was going slowly crazy inside his own head, despite Sam’s assurance that that had yet to happen to any wolf. This sensory overload would surely send him insane. The girl made an incomprehensible sound over his head, but Jacob merely inched his nose closer to the shadowy line between her legs. She hadn’t tried to kick him in the head yet. Jacob wasn’t ruling it out.
    Maybe she thought he’d bite her. Freeze-frames swirled in his head, drawing a whine out of his throat. Well he might. But not like that. He hunkered down and touched his nose to her slit.
    The girl arched off the ground like she had been electrified.
    Jacob’s logic-centre vacated the building. Its absence made room for the red noise radiating north from more southerly regions. That blind urge driving him up, in, fighting against the human side that didn’t want to kill the girl in its struggle to feel her from the inside.
     The girl was frozen now, seemingly afraid to move, although she no longer smelled of the acrid, battery-acid stink of fear.
    Still, with her unmoving, he couldn’t get further into to the magnetic zone pulling him in. Jacob whined, wanting her to be animated again. His groin pulsed and he wriggled his hips in a vain attempt to ease his discomfort. He hadn’t actually been able to finish before the Cullen leech interrupted them—him, Jacob corrected himself. What part in it the girl had played was probably unknown to her.
    Huh: no more vampire, magically reappearing sex-drive. He’d laugh about that later – make a joke of it for Embry, maybe – but right then he was preoccupied with more important matters. He lifted his head again to peer up at her face, and her eyes were locked onto his muzzle—perilously close to her pussy. The idea that she was watching him work her over was a powerful kick to Jacob’s human side. A shudder went through him. The second pulse in his groin strengthened. He jammed his nose into her crotch again and flicked his tongue out in an experimental lick.
    Her muscles pulsed in front of his nose. Simultaneously, her legs shifted apart, giving him more access to her. But it had to have been involuntary; she was still stiff as a priest’s collar. And her reaction wasn’t strong enough for the wolf—or for Jacob.
    He bent his head and gave her a firm lick. The pressure separated her nether lips enough for him to get his first real taste of her arousal. If he had any lingering thoughts of walking away from this, they evaporated.
    The girl abruptly found her courage. With a cry, she shoved his head away from her body, and scrambled for her feet. Jacob casually placed an enormous paw on her belly and weighted her down. The other paw was braced against the ground outside her hip, flexing against the grass. That smell was driving him insane, sending waves through his body like an electric pulse. There was a distracting heaviness between his hind legs. He ignored it.
    With her firmly locked down again, he leant in, nose to nose with her, and let the low growl rumble out of his chest. He wasn’t doing anything invasive yet. The least she could do was stay still.
    Jacob started. That had to be the Rut talking. He’d felt the same way – thought the same way – in that first scene he played out after the bloodsucker’s attack. He didn’t want that—but she was making it hard to think. He didn't really care if she wanted to get away; he wanted to get his tongue around the source of the intoxication that was making his head spin and his groin pulse with the helpless need to feel the same wet heat he imagined in the grips of the moment before the vampire. The wolf demanded it. He could barely hear for the blood pounding in his ears, although every quickened breath through the girl’s bruising lips was an icicle cracking off a gutter. He was blind to everything but the hunt for this delirium.
    Pushing her legs apart again, he licked again, slowly this time. Her whimper sounded less fear this time; Jacob rubbed his cheek against her leg in absent encouragement, all his attentions focused solely on that point at the juncture of her legs. Her hips shifted a little uncomfortably, breaking grass turning into snapping balsa wood to Jacob’s insane hearing. She couldn’t actually move though, pinned by his paw. He didn’t think she was going anywhere anyway. This time, he moved in carefully, rolling his tongue up and pushing it past that first bit of resistance blocking him from fully sinking into this taste.
    Jacob’s spine arched as the same electricity from before hit him like a bolt of lightning. The girl grabbed with her good hand for his paw, but Jacob didn’t even notice.
    Holy fuck. It was overpowering. Without a thought, he dropped his head back down and stabbed his tongue in the direction of the liquid. The girl tensed, her hips jerking towards his mouth. She made a noise of distress, tugging at his paw. He pushed his tongue into her and curled it, trying to find the best way to get as much as fast as possible. God, she tasted so sweet, and tangy. He could easily get addicted to that. Heat stabbed at him, and the pain would soon be crippling, but he couldn't give this up—not now. The taste was addictive, too addictive; he couldn't get enough of it. He worked his mouth faster, alternating between broad swipes down her slit and pointed digs into her.
    She wasn't whimpering now—more like moaning. Jacob could feel her stomach flexing against his paw as she strained against the restraint, writhing but unable to move. A bead of sweat ran down the line of her neck as it arched backwards with her struggles, grabbing onto his paw and clutching at him for all she was worth. Confined by the heavy paw on her stomach, she still managed to drive her hips up in time to the rhythm Jacob had set, meet his tongue with synchronized rolls, a groan building in her throat. His nose between her legs, Jacob looked up past his paw to see her face. Her chest was heaving beneath the singlet, and her head was thrown back, but as though she could feel his eyes, she dropped her chin and stared down the length of her body at him with cloudy heavy-lidded eyes. A wave of heat washed over Jacob. When he touched a tiny hard nub at the top of her pussy on an upstroke, she let out a sharp cry and went totally rigid, arching off the ground hard enough to lift Jacob's paw.
    The werewolf was otherwise occupied: with her orgasm, the flow of the liquid increased dramatically, soaking his nose. Jacob whuffled happily and lapped up all of it. Satisfied he'd gotten every bit, Jacob sat up and licked his nose clean, looking up at her expectantly.
    As the tension faded from her body, girl went limp and started to cry. Jacob removed the paw, but she didn't move, just lay there, tears dribbling down her cheeks and into the grass. She had her eyes squeezed shut again. He could smell the salt.
    A vague sense of guilt set it, but it was still more curiosity that prompted him to action. He moved over her until he could lick her face.
    Beneath him, her heaving gasps pressed her breasts into his ruff, tousling his fur. She’d been so fascinated with her own breasts. Jacob was a little – a lot – fascinated with them himself. So in his vision, tearing her singlet had been the gateway to doing so much worse. He’d done okay up until now, hadn’t he? That, and it was coming off now.
    Grasping the singlet, he ripped it, shredding the material. The torn halves flopped aside, exposing her white chest to the sky. Girl needed a little more sun. Moonlight turned her to marble. He couldn't help but ponder how close she'd come to turning into just that tonight. Her breasts and flat stomach were beautiful, and he told her such with a long lick of his tongue from her navel to sternum, dragging warm wetness over her torso. She hiccupped, chest heaving jerky little breaths as she fought suffocation. She wasn't even looking at him: her eyes were squeezed shut as tears streamed inelegantly down the sides of her face and pooled in her ears and hair.
    Jacob barely noticed. Once more diverted by the mundane, he swiped his tongue over one of her breasts. He watched in interest as the nipple pebbled at the extreme contrast between the cold air and his hot mouth.
    The throbbing in his groin reasserted itself with a violent demand. This wasn't enough. All right, she'd had her fun. What now?
    He had to be closer...deeper. More. He arched his spine, rubbing his huge erection against her. The girl twitched, but didn't open her eyes. Jacob rumbled an appreciative growl and pressed closer, sliding his hips against her; it felt so good. Better. But still not enough.
    The girl's crying came to a hiccuping stop. Alerted to her renewed attention, Jacob glanced up. She was staring at him, wide-eyed. Dark eyes huge, she looked terrified again, fear flooding her scent over and burying her lingering scent of arousal. Her hands flattened against the ground and her muscles tensed. Damn it: he'd removed the paw. She was going to run. Jacob whined. This still wasn't enough. He wanted to be in her, wanted to feel her around him. But...
    He'd hurt her like this. Damn him for a fool, and sometimes he really wished he didn't have moral qualms. But hey. He did. Tough. So: distract the girl. Easy enough.
    He swallowed hard, looking her over with intent amber eyes. Hunkering down, he pressed his ribcage to hers, enjoying the sensation of her small breasts pushing up against him in rhythm with her frenzied breathing. Fur brushing her bare skin and sending visible goosebumps racing over her body, he licked her neck, nuzzling against her, breathing in the delicious earthy scent about her.
    Her eyes squeezed more tightly closed. More tears sliding down her face. She didn't sob, though, seemingly resigning herself to her fate.
    'All right, you don't want to look? Don't.'
    Still nuzzling and kneading, Jacob phased.
    Human, he ground his hips down on hers and buried his mouth in her neck. Sure, he hated the idea of a bloodsucker doing that, but her skin was salty and earthy and somehow metallic in his mouth in a way that her come hadn’t been, and he reasoned that one could just as easily be as addictive as the other. Red marks rose around each place he bit into, purpling with arousing rapidity.
    The girl's breath caught in her throat, and she choked. Black eyes cracked open at the speed of light but she didn't get more than a glance before she was flinging her head back with a moan. Jacob thrust deliberately against her clit. He chuckled darkly into her neck and allowed his head to be pulled to the side as she grabbed a handful of his hair.
    There were distinct advantages to being human, he noted with a grin. Opposable thumbs, for one thing. Grin still evident on his face, Jacob took advantage of having hands to palm one of her breasts. A little smaller than a handful, he amused himself by molding and kneading, noting with interest the way her unhealthy pallor seemed to glow under the moon. He could smell her rising arousal again; less clearly than when he had four paws and a tail, but still palpably evident. He grinned outright, and palmed her breast roughly. The girl bit back a gasp but she couldn't stop her hips jerking in response, and Jacob groaned when the action ground his erection into her. Right.
    Procrastinating: bad. Sex now: good.
    Hissing in a tight breath, Jacob positioned himself at her entrance and thrust in one smooth motion. The sensation just about made him pass out. The girl arched up into him with a wordless cry. Her hands flew to his shoulders and latched on. If he’d still been a regular guy, he’d have fingerprint bruises everywhere. The echo from his solo fantasy made Jacob dizzy, but he didn’t dare move yet. He’d made it so far. Why stop now?
    When he recovered his composure, he shifted his weight onto his arms and began to thrust. Everything but the need to alleviate the ache burning up his insides faded out into a screaming blur. Sweat dripped off his nose and he stared down at the girl writhing beneath him in a state of bemused ecstasy and had the sudden strange thought that he couldn't have wished for a more attractive view.
    For her part, the girl twisted and ground up against him, groaning fit to drive him insane. Flexing her hips, she pushed up to meet him in ragged countertime. Her broken hand was thrown out to the side. Pleasure battled the pain across her face. She let out a sharp moan when he accidently brushed that same swollen nub from before. The same legs he’d had his head buried between before wrapped around his waist, thighs tensing against his sides. The feeling was enough to tell him that if she ever got a kick in, it was going to really hurt.
    'Let's see what this does...'
    Jacob adjusted his angle to hit the nub every other stroke. Her keening rose to a scream. Smirking, he bent his torso over her and grabbed her shoulders for better leverage. His rhythm became more and more erratic as the release that escaped him before coiled began to coil in low in his abdomen. Pressure built at the base of his spine.
    Knotted around his hips, the girl's legs tensed up. The rest of her body arched like a bow as she came with a high-pitched keen. Jacob groaned at the feeling of her flexing, tensing core. She spasmed around him. The added constriction was all he needed. Something in him burst. Jacob gave a hoarse cry and arched his back as he came, releasing into her molten heat.
    Jacob’s arms gave out and he collapsed onto her heaving chest. A second later she started to struggle and he hazily realised what the problem was. He half-rolled away onto his side. The girl went limp again. Eyes closed, Jacob focused on recovering enough to stand.
    Well, this would be awkward when they got their breath back.

A/N: I really had to fight against the urge to add 'and it was his appendix' in that last part.
I love Jasper. I do. He's my favourite main character vamper. However. He does have that pesky addiction thing going on.
Sequel, The Sweet Hereafter, is over at http://books.adult-fanfiction.org/story.php?no=600095365 . There's more bad behaviour, shaky self control, and hazardous interactions. Just not quite in the same way...
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The Season For It