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The Scent
By : LadyNarayamaan
Category: Twilight Series > Het
Views: 5059 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or make any money from this story.
Chapter List
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[...]
“He is… going to kill me.”

-**The Taste**-

Her eyes had closed at the sound, too afraid to keep looking. When nothing happened for, what for her had been an eternity, but in reality just a few seconds, her eyes opened slowly, her tense shoulders that had curled protectively relaxing a bit.

Another breath had been taken. His eyes almost rolled inside his eyelids, as they closed. And the look of utter pleasure written all over his attractive visage made her heart stop dead for a moment.

It was… beautiful. His eyebrows creased as he inhaled once more, in an almost pained expression, and it was simply magnificent.

Her hands, previously in a white knuckled fist, relaxed. Her lips parted slightly, and her heart, on cue, started trying to burst out her ribcage.

How can a man this size, this rough looking, look so terribly, beautifully anguished like this?
Her hands tickled with a sudden need to touch him.

He leaned closer to her, faces less then a palm away. She lost focus due to proximity, but kept her eyes opened. In shock? No, anticipation. She could feel his staggered breath against her lips, the warmth inviting. Her neck’s muscles tensed, as the thought of moving closer was as normal as the will to breathe.

Her hands aching for touch opened against the wall, fingertips scraping against the surface.

There was a weird sense that she must not aggravate him. It was as she was in the presence of a wild animal, one that would interpret any movement as an attack, and strike her down.

But contrarily of what would be deemed as normal, she was fascinated and not actually afraid now.

Suddenly, as if confirming the beast analogy, a deep, almost purring sound could be heard from him, born deep within his chest.

She gulped at the all but human sound, and her breath itched, her eyes shutting tight once more.

She could have screamed, but her voice was lost.

And then she felt it.

The tip of his nose against her cheekbone, sliding slowly towards her temple. Her heartbeat thundering in her ears, as the touch sent her body in a turmoil of sensations that rendered her motionless.

Electric. Warmth.

He took in her scent again, amazed on how the more he took it in, the more he wanted: an unexplainable, greedy feeling.

His nose continued to travel towards her hair, a bit above her ear, that his lips almost grazed, and he inhaled inside the dark blonde strands. Between his parted lips, something akin to a moan slipped, low, rough, husky, making her eyes snap open and close right after, her hands clenching over the wall, as his did the same on the surface at each side of her head. Her body arched without her conscious awareness, responding lustfully to the sound, getting closer, in an offering of her most sensible part, almost as an animal would lay down with its abdomen unprotected, in a show of silent surrender.

His parted lips brushed against the shell of her ear, and the feeling made her tremble, ripping out a soft moan from her own throat, that seemed as animalistic as his.

And this sound, from her, made something snap inside him.
His face moved down a bit, for his lips to set parted bellow the beginning of her jawbone, his tongue slipping past his lips against her skin, tasting the flesh up behind her ear.

The feeling shot all through her, ripping another grunt from her chest, her body reacting to it in ways she never thought possible.

There was no logic to consider. No, it was gone. All that mattered was the touch, the warmth emanating from the man in front of her.

There was no placement to consider. They could have easily been somewhere else and it didn’t matter.

Suddenly, in that place, she wasn’t alone anymore.

There, with him, she wasn’t lonely.

Like a strange sense of fulfilment, that she couldn’t and did not want to verbalize or even think about.

“Just feel.”

He couldn’t go away. Not now.

Possessiveness to its most primal meaning.

Her hands snapped from the wall to grab onto his shoulders from behind, fingernails digging onto the fabric of his shirt.

His hands, almost as if waiting only for this moment, snapped to her waist, his big warm hands almost occupying the entirety of her back as they slid up to her back, making fabric rise.

“Yes…!”

Her hands, clawed over his shoulders slid down over his shoulder blades. More warmth - more of him! - her mind seemed to scream. And her hands complied, sliding to the middle of his back and clawing at the fabric of his shirt, upwards, upwards, until her delicate fingertips could feel blazing skin under them. Greedy, greedy, her hands opened for the entirety of her palms to receive it. Warmth and muscles.

The willing touch and passion fuelled his own: one hand slid to her waist, fingers in a spider like motion pushing fabric up until they were touching skin, thumb scraping over her hipbone, sliding over and downwards until they reached the border of another piece of clothing, almost as soft as the skin under his fingertips, making her arch again to the feeling.

Sides of faces were against each other, as breaths were blown against each others ears, vocalized. Hard. Rubbing, augmentation of touch by friction. Her lips in a toothless biting motion, wanting to touch his face, but not wanting to miss any of the grunts that were making her insides clamp expectantly.

“Closer damn it, I want you closer!”

Her hands slid upwards once more, not able to rise more then his neck due to the buttons that were still in place. So, one of her hands snapped to the front, fumbling with the circular objects almost as if they offended her. They did in a way. Other hand slides upwards inside the shirt, out the collar of his shirt, tangling in dark longish hair, grabbing handfuls of it.

His hand slid under her own clothes, taking in by touch all the skin of her back, making her stand on her toes, face rubbing upwards on his, causing his own posture to become less hunched.

Buttons were all off by this moment, a victory her mind growled, but soon it didn’t matter, due to his shift in positioning; his hands gave pressure upon her back, making both fronts clash.

Indescribable feeling.
Greed inducing.

The hand between them was caught against his skin, and her torso’s skin resented it. It was an intoxicating feeling, when his skin touched hers. Inebriating.

She could feel her bosoms complain for being enclosed, for not being also able to feel that warmth, even if the heat emanating from him penetrated every pore, even over clothing.
Her lips were in a permanent parted state, vocalizing breaths, hand sliding from between them as her other left raven locks to slide on the sides of his midriff. Tight warm muscle was all she could feel, and her teeth clenched with the feeling, as her palms set over his sides, sliding to his back once more, sliding over the skin and reaching his spine, clawing for her nails to leave tiny crescent shapes over it. And the sheer will to have him closer made her nails rake over the skin, scratching him as well as pushing him closer.

With a growl rising into a hiss, the side of his face pushed hers to the side, with a little bit of force, her neck’s muscles, unresponsive due to the feeling of his heated growl, made her head fall to the side, with a raspy sigh, her unresponsive hands over his back.

And not even giving her time to register the quick move, his lips set parted, jaw opening to its full length almost, to scrape his teeth over the soft skin of her neck.

Undulating body in a whiplash motion, making her chest smash itself against his bare chest, a full fledged moan escaped her lips. She didn’t even recognize the sound. Her body charged with the biting caress make one of her legs rise to slide against the side of his own leg: his arm taking cue, almost as they were following some wild choreography, slides until the back of her knee is set on the crook of his elbow, his hand going upwards impelling towards the wall, fingers denting it to keep in place as his elbow moved to the side, making her almost rise up the wall, his other hand poised at the side of her hip again.

Realization dawns. Naked skin. Her legs are bare. The silky clothing he again grazes with the tip of his fingers is nothing but underwear. The black that draped her figure is nothing but a dress.

Her hands, in search for support snap towards his neck, arms sliding over his shoulders as again his jaw opens and tongue tastes the furious heartbeat in the skin his lips enclose. The vibration of a moan from her tingles against the tasting muscle.

The purr from him is almost permanent soundtrack, along with her fast inhales.

Using his arm as support, her muscles contract, making her lower region sway towards him, but his hand on her hip maintains distance. Infuriating distance.

The pulse all over her body concentrates on her womanhood, that clamps, calling shamelessly for a companion. His nose, not his lips slide over her chin, in the dent between lips, towards her other cheek again. Her lips tremble, her brow creases, as again she tries to get closer, since he is still avoiding her lips, and the calling of her swaying hips. Isn’t he aware?

He is. And the scent has become even more… ferocious. Her whole body smells and tastes sweeter now. But this has become a conquest. Even if the animal in him makes up a significant part of his conscious self, he has enough self control to want her to do that again. That growl, that moan, that acceptance of his motions.

Why? The answer is not available. Not right now at least.

She almost whines, then growls and one of her hands goes again to tangle with raven locks, pulling his hair very non-politely.

“Are you trying to drive me crazy?”

His head comes back to be able to face her, although the pull at his hair is nothing but a slight discomfort. Blacks meet green again.

“Ask me.”

Hers are angry, fierce, blazing and filled with accusations, as again her hips impel towards him.

He allows a smirk to slide to his lips, as she does the same motion again, growling low in her throat.

Intense, demanding, in control. And it’s beautiful.

As she is about to protest in more vocalized manners, his hand slides over her hip to the small of her back, and lets his body fall against her, hand moving to cup one of her buttocks as the dull sound of a thumping body against the wall is heard, along with a hiss and a very improper word.

Praises to gods in both minds.

He wasn’t counting on the feeling. That fitting marvellously feeling as the member that raged inside his pants finally was given what it wanted. Almost as if he hadn’t been aware of the state of his body was until he touched her there, both heated sexes only parted by clothing.

His lips parted as strangled vocalizations left him, eyebrows creasing in again that beautifully anguished expression that her half lidded eyes caught. His hips moved again towards her, rubbing himself as her body also swayed to increase the motion. His muscles were swollen under her hand on his shoulder, her hand scrapping his scalp, the wall suffering under the firm pressure of his fingers whose arm still provide poise for her dangling leg.

Licking his lips, black eyes lock again with green in time to register her move.
She pulls his head closer, forcefully, her own face coming closer, smashing her lips against his, already parted. As soon as they meet, incredibly warm, her tongue lashed out to claim his own, that reacted just as instinctively, just as passionate.

His hips move a little stronger against her, and the feeling made her hand tighter making his scalp tingle, her lips parting from his as her head slams against the wall. Lips curled up showing clenched teeth that let a hiss pass by them. He sways his hips away and again to her, pressure increasing slowly, in a painful torture for both, and her lips part unmoving in a sucked breath. And he watches these reactions with awe and triumph. He takes the opportunity to lean his face closer to hers, tongue sliding in an upwards motion over her lips, in a lustful lick. Her tongue lazily slides out to do the same and a dance of saliva coated muscles resumes, now outside the privacy of joint lips.

It is animalistic, instinctual and rising in need and rating. Her nails scrape what they can: the side of his strong neck, sliding to nape, while the other tangles with dark, surprisingly soft locks, pulling. As tongues pause, her lips and his bite each other, sometimes greeted by hints of teeth, only for tongues to again resume their battle for the need to taste each other.

His only free hand slides over her back, following spine, going down again and to the side of her midriff to her front. Tips of fingers first, able to snake in the small space between their torsos until they hit the underside of her brassiere: exerting pressure between the piece of underwear and her skin to pull it over her breast, that appreciates the feeling of his touch, making the hard pebble that anticipates his arrival to harden even more.
And his touch does not disappoint, first rolling the flesh with the tip of his middle finger, then allowing his whole hand to enclose the swelling mount, making again another hiss, laced with a non lady-like word, to slip past her lips in the middle of a heated kiss.

One of her hands slides, no, snaps downwards, snaking between them in search of him.

Taking the opportunity of a sway backwards of him, she slides her hand, that is immediately trapped between them as his hips come to meet her again. She can feel her own warmth and moist on her core, and he pauses feeling the intruding hand between them.

Dark black look at green. Half lidded and clouded by lust, and her hand rotated for her palm to touch him.
He hisses and in response, she does so back.

The streak of his thoughts drifted for a few seconds towards someplace where this wrong, but it was fleeting: the moment her hand moves to grab the member that pulses rhythmically still inside the enclosure of his pants, he hissed and all was again lust.

And not a single thread of humanity other than the thought that he could break this delicious being in his arms was found in him.

Just like a knife’s blade in a tiny shred of self control. Snap.

His hips impulsed towards the feeling, the growls returning even more fiercely, and the idea that this body against his was his to take.

Lips meet lips with no care whatsoever, the scent that had driven him there to that little compartment dictating all the moves.

She gasped, body twitching, his free hand sliding in gropes over her body, pulling the stretchy fabric that clad her up over her breasts, as her own hands worked to get rid of it, and sliding to push at his shirt’s front to unclad his arm.

Bites over lips, and licks that know of no decency as tastes are shared and searched for. Half his shirt is off by now, as he shakes his arm helped by her hand to get it off the sleeve, her hand greedily going to the muscles presented to her sight. Greedily scratching as her other leg impulses her weight up in a bounce and snaps around his waist. His own hand coming to the beginning of her thigh, sliding to backside to push her up, her dangling leg helping her go up the wall, as his lips taste her lips, chin, throat, chest and diving between her breasts, head moving to the side to taste the aching breast that calls for his attention. Her arms are around his head, for support, as all that is heard are hisses and little grunts laced with swear words the moment his mouth encloses one nipple inside it, and sucks to almost painful extents, tongue flicking it, his own hips moving in search for something that is not available now. The taste, that taste against his tongue: could it be any sweeter? Other breast is taken next and her nails try to scratch what they can, her lips against the top of his head, taking in the scent of musk and woods that emanates from him.

Her walls clamp so fiercely, calling so longingly it’s driving her mad, nails taking revenge on his back. His hand leaves her thigh to slide to his front, as the call of his raging member to be released and enclosed by wetter walls wins the battle for the will of is tongue to taste her. He grunts as he is able to release himself, her heart in booming heartbeats as she hears the sound of the zipper, loud for her ears because she had been earning for it.

Her legs are trembling, muscles tense, hands trying to grab onto him and at the same time keep her in position as she tries to slide further down the wall. His hand comes to her core, fingers fumbling against the silky cloth that clad it, pushing it to the side, as her body comes lower, again almost choreographed, his thumb against the head of his erection, for guidance to the lips that await him.

And she lets herself fall easing the tight grip her leg has around him, at the same time he impulses upward, sheathing himself in one quick, hard thrust.

He grunts and she screams, hoarsely. His lips crash against hers, taking in the scream inside his lips.

It hurt, but oh did it hurt so wonderfully. He was filling her completely and it was hard to get used to the feeling of his long pulsing warm member inside her, but her walls welcomed the flesh in mad pulses around him.

His hand returned to her thigh and it was a miracle the wall he had his fingers in by now was still able to maintain under his tight grip. He looked at her, faces a bit more apart for them to be able to face each other. Fierce gaze as he didn’t move waiting for her to be able to open her eyes that had been tightly shut. They open slowly, not managing more than half-mast.
Bright, fierce, lust filled green. Deep, fiery black.

Her hips move to him, and the cadence started slowly, as little grunts and hisses again are heard in the midst of rapid breathing.

Tongues that play, lips that caress blindly, as eyes even loosing focus do not tear from each other.

Her body rocking upwards at strong thrusts, body thumping against the wall at each one.

Hand greedily grabbing thigh, a fierce thrust as his lips smash the louder moans before they have time to slip past her lips.

Wet walls that massage pulsing flesh at every entry, almost all of them full, as he insists to slide out only until his head is left gracing the rosy swollen lips, to again slide in again in fast thrusts, lingering inside in a delicious grind only to resume it again.

Hands tangled in ebony locks.

Whispered language not of words but sounds.

But they can take only so much.

Her hips move wildly, growing wilder as her legs tingle and seem to freeze.

His mimic hers, as thrusts are faster and stronger and not grinding so much.

Sounds are becoming more frantic, breathed. Eyes loose focus on each other, glazing over, as muscles tense, tense… and explode.

Hips move erratically, spasming, soundless curses or praises leave lips that move over each other in imprecise, orgasmic bliss motions.

And her legs die, one sliding over his side until her foot finds the floor, muscles trembling strongly.

On the place his fingers were there is only a hole on the wall. His hand moves from it, her other leg falling very non gracefully, until her other foot also finds ground, him sliding from her at the move, making both hiss quietly.

Her face falls against his neck, her mind a blank canvas, her hands set over his shoulders for support.

His hands come again to the wall, at her head level, his shoulder softly bumping against her for her to face him. She wills the muscles of her neck to move her head back, until it thumps against the wall, greens opening and meeting black ones, as both are still trying to catch very much needed breath.

There is so much to be said…

Three knocks on the door startle them both.

"Next stop in five minutes." The dull voice announces.

She breathes out a curse word. He moves from her, and she crouches to grab her dress, sliding it on. They didn’t talk, as she dressed, smoothing her hair: him zipping his pants up, mind slowly getting on the normal pattern of behaviour. She looked at him over her shoulder as her hand set on the door.

She wanted to say something, but what?

Opening the door, she got out, her legs complaining miserably, making her wince. The train was slowing down, and she remembered her bag. She had left it on her seat, in her hurry a little while ago. She went to get it, not looking back to see where he was.

There were other passengers getting up, getting close to the door. She looked around. It was her stop. She saw him getting out the bathroom, and her eyes said it.

“It’s my stop… will you?”

The train stopped and she went to the doors, looking back. He was coming.

He was coming!

She smiled despite herself, still unable to think beyond this.

She stepped out, in the middle of more passengers, others waiting to board the train.

He was in a daze, not even seeing any of the other passengers, anything at all, as he grabbed his backpack, slowly coming to his senses.

What had he done?

What happened?

Did he just…?

The questions overwhelmed his mind.

And the doors closed. He didn’t see her go out. His eyes went around the composition. She wasn’t there. He looked around frantically, until he caught her eye. Outside. The train was moving again. And she was looking at him with a look of amazement, disappointment and even a bit of disbelieved anger.

He was glued to the floor.

And she was out of sight.

_________________________

Lady Narayamaan
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The Scent	By : LadyNarayamaan Category: Twilight Series > Het Views: 5059 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or make any money from this story.

The Scent