I have this gorgeous beta, her name is V. As of late she often shouts in her cute Chicagoan accent, "RIE!!!" I know I make you insane, so thanks.

Disclaimer: The men in the south, mine. Twilight? SM's.

~~Let's get on with it. A/N at the bottom~~

****WARNING: This is DARK and this is slash*****

Four: Incarcerated

And thus it ends.



Startled from reverie, I came to.

In need of numbing forgetfulness, I had pulled myself down into a passive trance, my thoughts turning fanciful. Less dreary images floated through me, dreamily reminiscing of what it would be like were Jasper and I mortal men instead of doomed vampires bound to walk disparate paths that led away from each other. To be human, in love, and for that love to be returned with the promise of a just life instead of a history of death and curses and beasts and blood spilling.

To marry. To be accepted. Liberated, and allowed to have our own family.

I reproved myself by the minute, hour, second. That fucking everlasting, nonstop tock tock tock of time tarried its torture over me. With no hope for improvement from this chaste lonely waste of death that was my existence, I embraced agony instead of the man I loved.

That fucking silver pocket watch taunted me! Pounding out seconds that leaked more and more time that kept us apart.

Even under hallucinatory visions, I fingered the engraving as I held the heft of its metal in my palm.


Still engorged with rage, venom, jealousy, spite, and hurt, I wanted to toss it off the elevated pavement of the Battery with its surrounding mansions and sightseeing families who plagued my lonesomeness. The used-up Civil War cannons seated behind me in White Point Gardens only reminded me more of him. The tidal surge that was both salty and fresh and just over the railing compelled my fist to let go the souvenir.

How dare he?

I hated Jasper.


Was that a fucking joke?

It wasn't even a question.

I had no choice in the matter. There was no other. There never would be.

His soft strength so entirely masculine, untidily bound to Alice.

Once coupled, once chained to another, the vampire union was prophesied to be unbreakable. Was that Alice for Jasper? My last few months at the plantation, Alice had distantly accepted my partiality for her mate. Knowing that she could sense some variation on the future, I surmised absolutely nothing from her courteous dealings with me, but I suspected her actions were deceptive and defensive. Her continued bitchiness would only botch her relationship with Jasper, because he truly did have feelings for me.

Or maybe it was just blind hope, on my part.

They still fucked rampantly, causing me to growl and pace while sorely abused and achingly aroused for my man. Unspeakably enraged by their odious ardor.

From our initial meeting, when the dusty, musky, manly, soil-sea scent of him had flared my nostrils and hardened my cock, Jasper had known everything I felt. Proud of bearing, I faced him head on, him and his luscious mouth grinning in expressive, innate understanding.

Gallant and principled, Jasper kept my secret but made his perception clear to me.

I was too far gone to be ashamed.

Only through his companionship that I first denied did I feel…alive! My skin wept, my flesh triggered into chills, my fingers itched, and my brain imagined every permutation of me and him together, naked and nubile and so fucking strong against one another.

The smell of him incinerated my being!

Conversations with him incited me. Jasper interested me like no other. Tasting my pain at the forgotten loss of my mother and father, he replayed his own past, the origin of his markings, the beautiful remembrances of his mother, Marilyn Jane, and his affianced Delilah. The mere mention of a feminine name twined with his made me scowl, lower my eyes, and tear up chunks of the grass we reclined upon.

Then he spoke of his first true lover, Peter. My stilled heart raced with the possibilities!

Sharing his lives with me, Jasper unwittingly snared me further until I could no longer think straight.

Even just sitting with him in a hushed room was an easy, homey pleasure. His erudite homilies enchanting.

Our days were spent in the library, swimming in the creek with his long shaft as a buoy, being teased and tempted in the bower, and making a friend when all I wanted was untenable and unattainable was the most exquisite affliction. I should have at least known chagrin that he had watched me getting myself off in my bedchamber, but I did not.

Jasper had tasted my cum.

The trial of being an ami, attempting and failing miserably at remaining lighthearted raised me and dashed me all at once.

When he had made a heated trail up my throat with his tongue, I had no choice but to leave. Running blindly to the copse of green and swamp, away from Jasper and the blitzkrieg of emotion he caused to riptide through me, I mumbled as I distanced myself. Only falling to my knees when I heard his whisper rumbling, "I love you."

Now I had his heirloom watch and a mash of memories that I stole up into future longing.

I wanted him to be my beau.

Tall and strong, so fucking blond and lion-like, a predator, a hunter; a warrior, a weapon. The wealth of his mane made a shivering mess of me just through recollection, and it was not just Jasper's tantalizing body. It was his power of emotion, his affection, his steadfast wit, his own feeling that made him bare his soul to show his life to me. Even, abhorrently, the manner in which he would not leave Alice.

I had to admire his devotion

A man of pride. Honor. Fortitude. Truth and beauty.

Instead of becoming a better person for him, I hid and licked my wounds.

I should have flung myself to the far reaches of the earth!

I couldn't. I had to know that Jasper was only minutes away. I was weakened. All the while my defiant unrequited love sat like the bitter taste of tannin at the back of my tongue.


Now, holed up in downtown Charleston, ruffled pastel azaleas erupted their blooms, the first of the spring's bountiful perennials.

Jasper remained a chunk of carbon compacting into a diamond within my soul.

Not a whim, never a silly notion, not a passing fancy or dalliance.

This waiting was a hellish limbo.

These were the Ides of March.

In like a lamb, out like a lion.

Power had shifted; I felt it in my wearied bones. My ability to see through the falsehoods into the mind's eye of everyone in my vicinity, my power was meant to be a security blanket, keeping the Volturi at bay. No more. Tides turned, anarchy was alive and well in Volterra. I was to be the Crown Jewel to their stone towers. They would destroy all in their path, even obliterate their immaculate reputation to gain the feats of my mind, so I was satisfied that I had made the way to me clear and unhindered.

I would meet my curse alone, as befitted a bastard such as myself.

At least the others were safe in their stronghold, three clicks northwest and two rivers removed from my hellhole.

My own keep was nothing like the Cullen Plantation on the Ashley River. With one measly dollar, I became the owner of the Old City Jail, situated centerpoint in downtown Charleston. I lived amongst the squalor of government housing, Gullah fish-fries, and worn clothing hanging from the line. Corner shops were sheltered beneath shutters in case of gunshot that crackled across streets. People were carjacked daily.

I certainly was not worried about the dangers of my surrounds.

If I turned the corner and went two blocks down I was folded into jasmine and hidden grottoes of sago palm, fountains and stone palaces that spoke of filthy new money bought on credit, and antique Antebellum inheritors that had owned this land preemptive of the most uncivil war.

Brother pitted against brother.

I wanted Jasper with all my dead soul as the gates of hell fired pure odorous brimstone into my nostrils.

Most decidedly not as my brother.

My home, the Jail was a squat, square structure footed and shouldered by four tall towers. Of crumbling stone, new cement, the rotten timber casements riddled by insects' eggsacks, there was a gallows tree in the yard and an iron prison of a wagon that had formerly shuttled prisoners to marketplace for heckling and jeering. In the good old days.

Purported to be haunted, housing rumrunners and pirates, serial murderers and the infirm of mind, I was the disturbed monster that stalked its unlit hallways now. Incarcerated of my own free will. Ascetically furnished with the barest of necessities, light lacked through the dim, dusty windows of this falling-to-pieces fortress.

Just like me.

Scurvy-infested citadel. Infected and diseased mind. Wastrel spirit.

There was only one thing I wanted; to die completely, for fucking ever. Ending this non-life. Or to be with Jasper. Forever.

I had not fought a war, but I was about to. Becoming quarry from predator. The far-reaching, death-dealing arm of the Volturi neared.

My time had come.

Time to meet my maker, the marker of doom, my nemesis, the grim reaper amongst fields of callow wilting cotton. The leaves were eaten by grasshoppers the size of my thumb.

This, this is what unending non-life had made of me.

A beast. A man. An ancient. A boy. A hungry fiend. More than blood, I wanted Jasper. More than my grave pelted beneath rocks and filthy soil that would keep me under forever, I needed him.

I was lifted from my daydream of living at large with Jasper as my human husband by the heavy cast knocker on the huge wooden portal below.

Once, twice, thrice.

Then again with impatience, the force of the hand behind the striking almost beat the planks asunder.

I squashed a scurrilous scurrying palmetto bug underfoot as I made my doomed way to the portcullis. Giving up a satisfying squelch, it was the size of a clacking fiddler crab in the muck of the marsh. Hit my boot doubly against the composite steps to loosen its hold under my boot.

The soot and silt on my sole was caked with putrid insect innards.

Pale red light of fire exits glowed like fiery apparitions and shadowed down the staircase in the dead of this night.


He's here.

Rain was shredding leaves off the live oaks outside as a portentous wind ripped limbs and rasped branches against the thick leaded pane of the Jail's windows.

I stopped at the double doors. Wide lathes of decaying wood clasped in tarnished hinges, a huge heavy metal deadbolt, and a large rusty handle that had seen better days was all that held us apart.

Hoping. Dreading. Halting.

I felt him on the other side, his impatience. And…longing.

Caressing the timber with my long fingers trembling, my flesh wept at thoughts of him so close. Venom-like sweat dripped between the palisades of my shoulder blades. My black t-shirt stuck to my back. My parched throat hungered for his cock.

Turgid with want. Torrid. Immediately and enormously aroused. I rubbed my erection against the unyielding aperture that estranged us and moaned. Rolled my hips left and then right and then crushed tight, seeing him so close, imagining that it was his own flinty hard cock that I was rolling across with my own. Stark, white dick throbbing with pulsing toxin that made blue rivers amongst pure, arctic planes. Full to bursting. Leaking and humid.

On the outside, I heard the whisper hush of his hand. Meeting mine across the barrier. He had heard me, knew I was here.

Steeling myself, I slowly opened the door on its whinging mechanism.

Jasper stood outlined by the streetlamps, with both arms braced to either side, his head held high. I squinted and took in all of his masterful resplendent stature. Glowered at him from inside even while I wanted to jump across the threshold and into his embrace.

Paralyzed by fear and want and loathing, I caught the door as it swung wide, and hesitated on the precipice of everything I wanted, touched by the grave.

He looked grim.

Grimy and hopeful and overtly torn up by the sadness of his many, many decades.

My resolve was failing. My heart fleeting.

Finding voice, I beat out like jagged razors cutting skin, "I don't want a friend, Jasper. So unless you came here to be mine, to give me what I need – a man, a mate, you – just walk away now." Expecting him to leave at my insolent statement, I broke back, turned heel, but then thought better of it.

Pulling the chiming timepiece from my pocket, glaring at it, wanting the sentiment to be real, I shouted rancorously, "And you can take this damned thing with you!" Throwing his beloved watch to the grime-splattered floor, we both watched it bounce, clatter, and then stop.

Too many months had passed. My knuckles paled and curled and I felt like I was dying one more time.

The clockwork faded, inside.

He didn't balk or blench. Jasper was a silky handsome roadweary picture of sunbursts and harvest moons against the black night that caressed his back.

Our eyes met, turbulent gold to fossilized amber.

"You know we're going to die, right?" Jasper finally spoke.

I sneered; he had taken too much, "Ha! I am long gone!"

Stepping inside, uninvited, Jasper stood tall against me and lifted my chin. "They're here, Edward."

I jerked out of his hold when I caught quick flashes of a fantastical be-cloaked battle taking place. Alice. She was now near enough to see us, to pull me into her head.

Jesus Fucking Christ!

I tried to shove Jasper back out the door! Beating him with my fists that he just captured in his hands, I would never be fast enough to overwhelm his strategic mind.

He has to leave! They all have to go. NOW!

Unraveling like the woolen story of the Bayeux Tapestry, Alice's reels continued to stroll over me like the historic invasion of Normandy. Our D-Day. Except, we knew what was coming to us.

Why didn't they leave?

With the horizon, upon dawn, they would come. The Volturi. And none of us were safe.

Fractious, fucking insane, I beat against Jasper's tight grip, foul and frightened for his life!

I didn't give a shit about myself. Despised my desperate past. I had crawled headlong into the demonic cavern of my future. Death would be far kinder than this terrifying solitude I had lived. This un-fucking-ending interlude.

But not at this cost.

Oh, I wouldn't just hand myself over. Lusting after a fight, I would bare my canines, rip into their vellum skin, coil around them, eat them, tear them apart, and thrust my curled fingers into their viscera until I was up to my knuckles in their ashes and dust and carbide skeletons. I fidgeted beneath the need to fight, even if I had no will to survive. If I could kill enough of them, perhaps I could save my family. The rest would be my comeuppance. Just desserts, a crypt from which I would never rise again.

If only Jasper would get the hell out!

It was useless. Fruitless. Every strategy I tore through like limp muslin curtains was dashed by Alice's thoughts. Nothing would sway them. Nothing would stop them.

From miles away, I heard them, my family. Beseeching me to stay away. To let them meet this doom on their own, to stave off the armies. To let them gift me this man, and at least a few hours of respite, together. Esme wept tears that would never exist. Not over the forthcoming ending, but that she would cease to be without saying goodbye to me. That she would never embrace me again. Carlisle silently tried to convince me that my soul was a winged thing that would take flight. That the heavens would forgive me, and that we would all meet again.

In time.

Would we?

I didn't want to.

I had hurt them too much.

There was only one I wanted to meet the scraping, knocking, scratching call of the Reaper with.

And he was here.




Less than days. Scant hours. Coils of mortality for the immortal. Finality. Begetting eroticism and denying the forlorn.

I was starving. Strafing from hunger to wretched wrath and back again.

Could I do this?

Would I accept this gift that was not mine to take?

"You should go back to your wife," I felt the bile rise and shoved it down with a ramrod to the barrel of a musket. They were going to end, and his last moments should be with her. Hateful. Noxious. Spleen. I unleashed him, liberated him, and gave Jasper my own helping of humility.

Shaking his head in denial, gilded tassels of loose curls coiling in the air that was filled with slight motes of starlit specks, he carved out in a whisper boiling with thankfulness and solemnity, "Alice has always known, Edward. She gave me leave," self-deprecating and somber, "Claiming that she's had me on borrow for more years than she should have taken." A murmur of shushed volumes arched out his mouth that was to the side of my neck and I enclosed him in a pure hug. Acknowledging the loss of another, his sorrow, my bereavement, my appreciation for the sprite that had bestowed me these hours with the man I loved.

In the blink of an eye, with slaughter too fucking close, I was desperate once more to repeal Jasper!

He could live!

Sobs and hurt and scorn and denial and trying to blaze past him to deliver myself, to do one fucking thing on this earth with pride and righteousness, I sought to propel him away!

Blocking the door, Jasper stopped my suddenly revived storming, "This is what they want, Edward."

There was no smile, no joking; just bleak wisdom. Man to man. On the very narrow ledge above purgatory. With angels fighting our battle.

How could love like this be so fucking futile?

Capitulating, I pulled Jasper further inside, took him by his hand up to the second floor where I had bedded down to un-sleep and disregard.

I had come here to escape him, seeking a separate peace that never came. To lead the Volturi to me alone, to keep my family safe! And they were running to the forefront of the fray.

So that I might have Jasper?

Beholden, angered, too many emotions racked me.

Incensed denial was high.

Eviscerating rage made me manacle his wrists, thick and ropey with muscle and blue-venomed veins – just the touch of them made me cower back into a semblance of humanity -- to the square, patterned, wrought iron gate of the cell I called my bedroom. Within my stronghold, rough hewn flesh, I licked his palms and watched his eyes redden. Ready. An echo of mine. His halo was tarnished, sopped in mildew. Just as mine.

"I would rather die than have them do this," I whispered a crushed thing against his ear and the wheaten locks that framed the uncovering shell.

It was inevitable; wheels had been put in motion. The Volturi chose this moment to attack precisely because I had broken off on my own. Had Iremained with my family this would never have happened!

At the sober smile etching his plump wet pink lips, I lifted my head. Jasper winked his strobing, bullion eyes, "I'd rather you lived, love, at least for a little while."

Even while I taloned and clawed and denied him escape, I felt older, wiser, stronger, sadder, more sick, more tainted, more hurt, more raped by this never, never, never. I dared Jasper, too close to his cherubic mouth; the ghosts around us held their breath, as did I. I could just lick those curves that were a severe smile, an ellipse, an incantation. Swollen and tight and worried and wondering and fearful and needful.

"You are not mine." I meant it and compressed him further to the chamber.

"I will always be yours." He leant low into my lips with a kiss that was both searing and endearing.

Finally, finally! To taste him on my tongue, to feel him with my teeth, swirling inside his mouth and licking every slick, pink surface with all the love and pointlessness of everything about to happen, I moaned, moving my head sideways for dearer purchase. Punched in the gut by divine deep-seated desire, I dove closer to Jasper.

Tremors crackled all over me, my lips trembled to be this close, this close, this close to his mouth.

Denying the knowledge that Jane and her sick whey-faced little piece of shit sidekick Alec were closing in, I shut my mind to all but this moment, this man.

Enormous, unutterable carnage made me feast upon Jasper like a famished man.

A heartful optimistic beat pulsed through me. I let loose my cuffing hands, folded my fingers to his long-roughened digits. Linked, in another manner.

And I cast them away, just at his caress and kiss. Emmett, Rosalie, Esme, Carlisle, and Alice.

I took what they gave.

The notch of my breath grew choppy. I nudged his mouth with mine, groaning into his feathery licks. Our biceps rubbed together as t-shirts were pushed up to our shoulders, hands held tight and extended and high up in the bars of the cage I'd pulled him into. The undersides of our forearms sampled each other, our hips aligned when Jasper crooked his knees just a might, and our stiffened cocks scrolled designs through cloth barriers.

Slender, soft, supple, solid. I shifted just to the side and hissed as our erections took up parallel lunges, feeling him so fucking long and broad through his trousers rasping against my shaft.

Sucking in a stunned breath, I grated out, "Christ, Jasper!" as my mouth tackled the gloriously muscled reach of his throat and the taut highway where his neck met shoulder, nicking, sucking, nibbling.

Whimpering and grinding harder, the hurt on my face turned to a frown of furious lust! Releasing his grip, I grabbed the back of his sweet damp neck, clasping fine wires of gold curls that waved there, shoved my other hand into the back pocket of his jeans and brought him completely against me. He was so hard, so right, so insanely every fucking thing that I never known could be mine!

Turning a circle, it was if we were dancing. Knees dipping, hips swiveling, lips opening to growls, tongues, soft budding flesh of red tasting wholly! He shredded my shirt up the back, his callused hands shearing through fabric like knife to butter.

Over the dips and hills of my quivering sinews, into my spine, fingering the dimples just above my buttocks, he paved his way over my skin that cried like my voice, salivating and glorying, "Fucking hell, Jasper!"

Another smile spread his lips over mine at my outburst.

Shanks of laughter trembled us together until I one-handed the very stiff cock in his jeans. His head jerked to the side and a chuckle died in his throat, turning into a lusty deep purr.

"Oh, god, Edward."

There were so many things I wanted to do to this man, there was so fucking little time left.

I scowled, smirked, simpered over the enormous icy shard that charred my palm. Longer, thicker, GOD so fucking big!, his erection beat and I needed to feel the living glacier of it. Skin, bare skin.

There was no justice that could keep us alive.

This seraph was going to meet his maker.

At my hands?

My love.

Planting my palms on Jasper's trim chest, I pushed him back. With one hand, I unseamed his shirt, top to bottom straight down the middle, and pulled the hanging cotton fabric wide, running my hands over the tight drum flesh of his abdomen, up over his pecs that were mouth wateringly sexy, pressed my thumbs into his dusky nipples and took them into my mouth. Pluck, pluck, plucking the niblets rising under my tongue. Grabbing hanks of my hair, Jasper held me in place, arched his neck and growled, "Edward, Jesus!"

Sliding one strong rough hand down into the back of my pants, he cupped my buttocks and rubbed and strolled two fingers down the cleft over my puckered hole and lower to gently fondle my sac. Each sensually dire motion moved me over his erection, and I needed to see him entirely naked before the thick, quick run of poison in my cock spilled completely.

His top fell from his ropey shoulders with the barest whisper of my tapered fingers. His hands still held my ass in a tough grasp. Ridiculously starved, I held air in my lungs as I yanked his buckle free, smoothed the flat of my hand over that huge bundle of flesh beneath the placket, and pulled the metal buttons open. It took both my hands to grip his cock fully and lead it out of the shelter of coarse cloth.

Velvety smooth with broad veins, his shaft was substantial. My mouth formed an 'O' but I was silenced by his beauty. Stringent golden curls scratched my knuckles and I just held him solid. Firm.

The map of scars that lit his chest and arms did not diminish his masculine handsomeness. Watery, wavery, they bled color like the insides of a luminous oyster shell.

I could no longer hear Emmett's voice.

Time was soldiering on.

The hay bales of his locks shook with the greedy strokes I plundered over him, the slither of venom, drops oozing out of the pursed lips atop his blooming reddening head. Wetness traced like tracks of tears over his long, straight tumescence.

On my knees, I planted my face in his lap, suckling his thunderous cock like it was the last nourishment on Earth to be had. Inside my mouth he felt bigger, he became more compact. As deeply as possible I savored the glide of him, in and out. Fat drops of moisture had me murmuring incoherently with their sticky raw honeyed essence.

Rosalie was murdered.

Jasper halted my supping with a choking clutch to my hair. Looking up, I watched him lick his ample ruddy lips, and saw the black of his half-mast eyes. Loosening my pants, I stepped out of them as I lifted; every movement higher was another inch of nude, masterful flesh against flesh.

Long, lean, lithe, and lethal, Jasper went straight for my nipples with his sensational mouth and right for my cock with two handfuls!

"Fuck me, Edward! You are so fucking stunning!"

I laved his ear sweetly and smiled with harsh glory, "Jasper, do you have any idea what you do to me?"

Taking his shining shaft in my fist, we stood just slightly apart, hands slowly walking over shoulders, torsos; the musculature of ribs, the divots of stomachs, the clenching satin of buttocks. I held his cock lovingly, wanting it everywhere all at once, and he tightened his counterpoint stroking on mine. Our nightshade eyes met just as our erections did and the feeling almost brought me to my knees, knocking me near off my feet! But I held his gaze. I watched his lush mouth part as we rubbed circles around each other, trading venom, stealing touches. Hard to hard. Glossy cock to downy, rigid shaft. Our dicks tangled and our balls bounced into each other.

So highly sensitive were we that the feeling was rapturous!

A torrent of turgid flesh fucking against each other, slipping in and out of each other's fists.

"Oh, god, please! Please! Edward, I need you inside of me, now!"

So aroused, erotically charged we could no longer kiss properly, it was a meeting of tongues and teeth and mouths that were opened too wide with need.

I laid Jasper down to my pallet. Wishing for a huge fucking bed piled high with linens warmed from the sun and mountains of pillows, feather soft to the touch, instead of this damn barren cell.

Pressing him back with one hand that I ran down the mizzen of his chest, his stomach, down to his cock that I soothed upward so that is was a masthead standing proud between us, I loved that Jasper watched my every move, and his body vibrated beneath me. Sitting back on my heels, I spread the girth of his brawny thighs, chafing against the fine fired hairs and receptive insides of his legs.

Skimming my hands beneath his ass, I spread those sweet orbs and dipped my cock to his entrance, sketching my drenched head just in and just out. I doused him with my fallow seed that larked out.

When he was nice and moist and sopping, and I so fucking stiff and swollen to bursting, I gyrated into him, slowly. Icy drops of venom trickled into my mouth. Blurry-eyed with the feel of him enclosing me, I cried out!

Balls deep, I almost fell to a dead heap upon Jasper, it was too much!

Arcing beneath me, Jasper urged me on, whispering, "Please, Edward, please," his last word a broken thing as I dashed out of him and pillaged straight back in.

Wrapping his endless legs around my waist, holding his ankles together at the base of my spine, I stroked his thighs as I plied into him with durable, inflexible, sure drives!

My fingers collapsed to his lips and he sucked them inside.

Alice's predictions dimmed.

His own hands reveled up and down my forearms and tore over my heaving chest.

"Jasper!" I moaned deliriously.

Being inside him was indescribable, incomparable. So tight, like a punishing clasp that ridged the base of my cock once fully inside. I almost never wanted to leave that sweet envelope, but the rush of wantonness propelled me further.

He was hot! How could Jasper feel so fucking on fire? Wet and so goddamn slippery with the toxin that raced like thick molasses out of my cock with each punitive thrust.

Storm clouds clashing and billows of gasps, grunts.

Cold fire, glacial embers, snowy draughts of breath in severe gusts like arctic breezes across the frozen tundra of chests, hips, balls, cocks. Baking scorching desert sun that was soaking fucking wet!

Ceasing, this fucking close to caving to pure instinct, I looked Jasper in the eye. A question. At his simple nod and the giant lunge he beat up into me, I gave over to animalistic impulse. He wouldn't break. I was already a broken man. Pounded into him. So immense were my thrusts that a human would have been halved in two. Impressive wild force, the hard slap of his cock against his stomach implored me on; the vessels in his engorged shaft were blue fjords lifting poison higher and higher to the surface, dropping tendrils of cum to his abdomen where the liquid streamed into the ligature of fleshly valleys.

Intensity, insanity!

Two enormous shoves in, two pulls up his cock that was now stuffed and purple, and I howled back into the echoing cavern of stone! Soaking his ass and jerking, jerking, jerking, my hips would not stop reaching deeper.

Jasper sat ramrod straight as his cock erupted like Vesuvius with the matter of his cum. Those arduous arms of his wrapped around me and our nipples met, our lips opened over screams, for one instant time ceased, gripping us in the most powerful orgasm! Unleashed, drenching venom surged out of him, wetting the both of us with its delicious unguent threads.

I yelled in release.

I bellowed because Esme went silent.

And time ticked swiftly.

Hands to hair and over flesh and wet and muscles we shifted quickly.

On my back, I mouthed Jasper's cock that hung suspended like a heavy branch over my face.

With his thighs to either side of my head, his hands beside my hips, Jasper swooped down to my own erection and sopped up the last of my release before pitching over onto me with his lips wide, taking all of me in.

We nuzzled sacs and starved over the tiny causeways from root base to ass, moaning, hardly budged but for small rotations, soft whimpers. I hummed over his dick as I worked it in and out of my throat, loving the ease with which we moved together.

He flattened his tongue and walked it all over my shaft.

"Mmmmm," I couldn't think clearly!

Fluttering the tip of my tongue into his welling slit and down to his crushed crepe frenulum, I snacked. Shakily, Jasper whispered over the pulsing vein he was eating, "Do that again, Edward, and I will cum." I smiled into the feast of indulgent flesh displayed before me.

So ripe and ready that it began to ache in my gut to hold out, I took another deep swallow over Jasper and licked his underside, his balls now hard lush figs of ruched flesh.

A final kiss to my cock, Jasper came up behind me, lifted my thigh, and unlocked me. Lips planted to the nape of my neck, his entrance was soft. On our sides, with one hand bearing my shaking, straining head aloft, and the other reaching forward to tenderly bottomline my dick, Jasper kissed me with his whole mouth to my throat, my lips, my cheek and forehead as he swept in and out. I wrapped my fingers in his.

Aching, longing, we were not ever going to be replete, replenished, with death coming.

Carlisle stopped breathing.

Not retaliatory, just loving regally, Jasper paced faster. Ever soft like the feather-tipped brush of quills, quivering inside of me. He hit my prostate and made me whine out! I jacked up in front of him as he kept on, and it wasn't hard or hurtful.

This was love.

He worked in and out of my at a languorous pace that bit at my heart, made flight of my soul. We touched each other everywhere.

Spumes of venom splashed out into the muggy air, Jasper sank deep inside of me and jilted from side to side, spraying his flume until more than could be held inside of me bled down the sides of his convulsing cock.

This air was sanctified. Blessed, beaten, I turned into his arms and hushed against his lips, "I love you, Jasper."

"Edward, I would rather die in your arms than live without you. I am solely yours." We wound around each other in a web of limbs, destined to end.

A light flickered back on in my mind. Empty black and gray cloaks heaped on the sterile ground and rising plumes of smoke.

Total silence gored my mind. No speech, no voices, and just this one vision.

Even now, with death everywhere, fucking Jasper and then making love with him only begot more passion and I needed to feel him, bare and bold and brilliant, endlessly.

Only now was I brave enough to tell him, "I can't hear anyone."

We held each others' faces and met pain for pain. Tears that should have been, carved fault-lines in our jagged, keening features.

More courageous than me, so fucking much stronger, Jasper nodded succinctly, withholding his grief and his voice.

He had known this was to come.

Blanching, bitten, I killed hope, "They knew, didn't they?"

His words a limp rusk of sound, harsh for its intense feeling, "Yes."

His lips were still swollen and berry red, and I was shocked to remember the feel of them on my own; even with the propinquity of mourning I was greedy for his kiss. My unearthly horrific need for him, again, right now was evident as I sat up and brought him onto my lap, a half step away from situating him upon my shard of a shaft once more.

"They're dead." Leaning closer, I kissed Jasper with appalling lust, feeling specious. Yet knowing this was right.

"For us." Spacious palms caged my biceps.


Inclining closer, clinging to the one goddamn thing worth fighting for, I brought Jasper onto me, settled him down over me, and sat with him on my lap and my unbearably aroused cock inside of him.



Our lips plucked at each other, tasting the drizzling rain of tears that could not fall. Mourning loss.

Suddenly there was more than insufferable stagnation.

Incongruously, I heard nothing of the Volturi, and it wasn't just that Jasper was sliding all over my cock, drowning out thought.

"Jasper, they're gone. The Volturi have fled!"

I held him static with my muscles clamping down. Jasper whimpered in relief and the need for me to continue moving.

"Shhhh," I begged. Keeping Jasper tightly coiled to me.

Jasper reared up and tried to sink back over me, "I can't, I'm sorry, I just-"

A finger to his mouth silenced him. A shake of my disheveled hair made him drearily curious. I looked through the room, my eyes wanting to know who was at the door downstairs.

"I need quiet," I carefully intoned to his ear, "Someone's coming."

Upon a deep breath, Jasper anchored himself to me with arms and legs, hope meeting gloom, "Who is it? Oh God! Edward! Who is it?!"

Tiny footsteps, a sanctimonious knock.

I grinned over his mouth, and stole away his grimace with my words, "Alice survived."


~~How are you feeling? I'm a lot bit weepy. Oh yeah, that was really my first slash lemon, so tell me what you think~~

I'm not saying that there won't be a sequel on down the line ;). I mean, obviously. Right? Hit the alerts, faves, and most especially, that review button if you want more.

Gushing thanks to my Double Wide deviants! Huge fat hugs to C-Me-Smile and RedVelvetHeaven (I could just squeeze on you hard)! Vi, you are simply amazing, and always on-call.

Brilliant love to all who supported me in my passing fancy by favoriting, reviewing, and mentioning at The Gazebo, A Different Forest, and anywhere else!

PS. There's a slashy o/s I am doing for my Portentous Prompted Twi 25 Challenge, see my profile. The slash is coming soon and will be titled Wood (ha ha ha). So keep your eyes wide open for fun southern lovin'. Vamp Jasper, human Edward, sultry sweet!

This was what I was listening to while I wrote:

Rearrange Beds, An Horse

That bit before you remember
Everything you own begins to blend in
To bones that ache with things that you can't spell

Rearrange beds to make sure thoughts flow straight from my house to yours
When you're asleep you can forget about us all

Aches that sail like ships through cartilage you never did anything to
For some reason it wants you to know it's not so happy with you
When your eyes open wide for just one second inside
The morning is your own, the morning is your own

When your eyes start to clear up and you come to terms with everything that you've got
The loves don't fall out like they used to, they just fall straight back into you

Aches that sail like ships through cartilage you never did anything to
For some reason it wants you to know it's not so happy with you
When your eyes open wide for just one second inside
The morning is your own, the morning is your own
The morning is your own, the morning is your own

Save a piece of strength for me
Keep it safe and clean and tidy
I swear, one day, it'll come in handy

Save a piece of strength for me
Keep it safe and clean and tidy
I swear, one day, it'll come in handy

Aches that sail like ships through cartilage you never did anything to
For some reason it wants you to know it's not so happy with you
When your eyes open wide for just one second inside
Aches that sail like ships through cartilage you never did anything to
The morning is your own, the morning is your own
The morning is your own, the morning is your own