"You don't scare me. Not like you used to."

"Well, that's really a shame," he muses, trailing two fingers down her pale neck. "I rather liked having that kind of power over you."

Her whole body trembles, but she swallows hard and answers him defiantly. "You already have all the power you need."

Her forceful tone is a direct contradiction to her words, and he arches a skeptical eyebrow. "Really, now?" He lowers his voice and adds, "You don't want to play games with me, my dear."

"No games this time," she informs him on an exhale. "Just you and I, real for once. No more secrets, no more lies." She takes a shaky breath and ducks quickly to rest her head in the crook of his neck.

With a feather-light touch, he brushes away her hair so as to expose her delicate profile. One anxious amber eye stares up at him, silently imploring. He strokes her alabaster cheek with uncharacteristic tenderness, idly noting that there's no real contrast between the snowy whites of their skins.

Ever so slowly, he extracts her from the hollow between his shoulder and neck, instead placing her gently just beneath him. He leans down with great care and brings his lips to her collarbone, lingering there for a moment before moving silently upward.

Her eyelids flutter shut and her head falls back, all the stress gone from her face. He smiles against her skin and draws his teeth lightly along the curve of her neck, leaving stinging trails of venom in his wake.

She opens her eyes slowly, and he loses himself in their warm honey. He traces back up the path marked in faint silver along her flesh, this time grazing it with his lips. Her head tilts away from him with a sharp gasp, her neck arching. He lightly outlines her cheekbone and jawline with one fingertip, and she smiles blissfully under his touch.

He inhales deeply when her hair fans across his face as she raises her head to his level, breathing n as much of her intoxicating scent as he can. She sighs, blowing his sweet drug straight into him. Then she wraps her small arms around his neck and makes the move they've both been awaiting with equal parts eagerness and dread.

Her lips are flawless and full under his, utterly soft and perfect. His mouth is harsh over hers—greedy, demanding—but she's more than willing to give him what he wants. She's being unusually submissive, letting his tongue explore her mouth freely but not asking anything in return. He grips her shoulders tightly, domineering and passionate.

When he pulls away at last, he sees the flicker of unease in her tawny eyes. His smirk is instantaneous. "So you are afraid."

She nods boldly, meeting his eyes. "Tell me why I should stay that way," is her simple answer.

"Oh, I can do more than tell you," he whispers, pushing her shoulders down and leaning in for another searing kiss.

Neither of them hold back this time, and their mouths lock in a crazed frenzy of passion and terror. Her hands tangle in his hair, while his move to her waist, holding firmly.

Afterwards, he breathes the question raggedly against her neck. "Stay scared of me?"

She looks directly at him and her lips curl into a smile as she utters the three words he's longing to hear:

"Please, make me."


I know, I totally should be working on stuff for Hindsight and Those Left Behind, but I'm acting like any lovesick teenage girl and writing about my crush. I can't help it. James is just so epic. There's really no other word for him. Right, speaking of which. It's James and Bella (or me, really), in my mind. I just like not using names.

This is what happens when SOMEONE (*cough*Nuzzo*cough*) tries to convince me to write a lemon. (She has a really epic Bella/Felix one in progress, btw.) It turns into my version of a sappy romance scene, which is an angst-ridden James-centric oneshot, basically. I tried not to rip off the movie too badly with the whole "I'm not afraid" thing, but I'm worried it didn't work. I just feel like any James-related relationship has to be built on fear and danger, because otherwise you're changing his character. He's not a sappy guy.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a Team Mike T-shirt, a copy of New Moon, two copies of Eclipse, and one of Breaking Dawn (which I regularly glare and throw things at).