Yours, Mine, Ours
Disclaimer: SM owns. I don't own shit.
Pairing: Bella/Unnamed Wolf
AU, 3 years post-New Moon, no cliff-jump, no suicide trip to Italy to save Sparky Sparklenuts, in a perfect world where the Cullens sparkle magnificently somewhere other than Washington. Bella's drawn a lot closer to some of the pack, made lifelong friends, but these boys don't share well. Wolves are territorial even on their best of days.
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I heard the distinctive rumble that heralded her arrival on the rez. Everyone knew that sound. The other wolves could hear it for miles. There was no way to conceal her presence this time. Everyone knew she was coming home from school for the weekend anyway. She loved autumn in La Push too much not to come home for at least one long weekend in October.
We were taking a hell of a chance meeting in secret on the rez as it was, but with that racket her truck made, there was no way her other wolf wouldn't come looking for her when she didn't turn up at his house within minutes of passing over the border this afternoon. She usually avoided driving out to the rez in favor of wolf-back rides that wouldn't announce her presence to the other guys who spent their free time sniffing around her.
I wasn't sure if she wanted to get caught or just didn't care anymore, but I knew for certain this was her way of upping the ante. I could hear her voice now, laughing, "Your move, asshole."
That's what you get for baiting one of your best friends; the girl you love to fuck.
I phased back and licked my lips in anticipation, not bothering to pull my shorts on while I waited for her to crest the hill. No point putting them on only to have to take them off again. I might not have those seconds to spare today. We'd have to make the most of our few moments alone this afternoon before the bonfire down the beach at Sam's place tonight.
I stroked myself impatiently, keeping an eye out for the hoodie- and jean-clad figure to round the trail head above the cliffs as usual for her fix.
She surprised me this time, though.
It was an unusually warm fall day and she took advantage; tiny denim cutoffs, barely-there, navy bikini, long silver necklace dangling invitingly between the soft, creamy swells of her breasts. She wore one of my old dark green hoodies, but it had slid down her arms, baring her shoulders, the sleeves only pulled up far enough to keep it from falling off. Eighteen year old Bella would never have dreamed of wearing the rest of that in public. The teeny bikini top, the fucking cutoffs, her slick navy swimsuit bottoms peeking out at the juncture of her thighs.
Never had I been so glad that someone was twenty-one and more than of-age. I'd had more than my share of high school girls throw themselves at me since I bulked up after my first phase, but none compared to what this woman did to me and my wolf with just a look, a smirk.
Fuck, I loved that smart mouth of hers.
She had her hiking boots on and a pair of thick, padded boot socks drawn up her slender calves almost to her knees. She knew herself well enough not to risk the short hike from the truck in anything but the appropriate footwear.
"Fuck. Is it wrong that I want to strip you down and bend you over so I can fuck you in nothing but those ugly ass boots?"
Her rich laugh peeled sweetly over the hilltop like birdsong as she approached, "Aww . . . you did miss me, or did you just miss having someone willing to play groin-tag with you in the woods?"
I snorted a laugh, then got my first good look at her since she left for school again in August. Had it only been seven weeks?
Her hair was down, the wind blowing soft mahogany tendrils across her milky, rounded shoulders. The contrast between the light and dark made my mouth water. It reminded me of the contrast between our skin tones as I watched my burnished, bronze cock disappear into her petal pink pussy the last time I fucked her.
"You sure you want to do this here, babe?" I asked, giving her one last chance to back out before we got caught for sure this time. "You know he heard your truck. He could come looking for you any second now."
She nodded, wrapping her arms around my waist, "We'll have to be quick, though. You'll have to be quick. I don't want to hurt him and you aren't making me promises any more than he can."
"You know I'll never imprint. Even if I do, I'll fight it. I don't want that shit like everybody else. You saw what that bullshit did to Lee. Some bland milksop Quileute princess chosen by Taha Aki who needs to be cuddled and treasured and doted on? Fuck, no. I won't be collared and as for your other concerns, babe-I'm known for being thorough, not quick. Do my best," I promised.
"That'll have to do," she nipped the underside of my chin and moaned into my throat, "Mmm . . . mine."
My wolf snarled and gnashed his teeth.
Fuck him, her other wolf. She was ours; me and my wolf.
I wrapped an arm around her waist and shoved the other hand down the front of the nearly nonexistent shorts.
Fuck, so wet.
I closed my eyes, restraining myself, the wolf and I reveling in the sweet, honeyed scent of her arousal as it billowed around us, stroking her slick folds with a gentle squeeze to either side of her clit.
Her breath hitched and she began to unravel.
I reached for the snap at the front of her shorts. She grabbed my hand and attacked my mouth with teeth and tongue, rasping between breaths, "No time."
I picked her up instead, legs around my waist, and pushed aside the stiff denim and slick lycra between her thighs.
I stroked her dewy folds with a blunt fingertip, but she stopped me again, "Rough; I want the wolf this time. Give me your wolf. Please."
He came roaring to the surface. I fought the phase, bones cracking, sinews snapping, muscles rippling beneath the thinnest layer of skin; he could kill her if I lost control.
Gazing upon her luscious curves for the first time in my human form, but through the eyes and mind of the wolf, I buried myself inside her without thought, without preparation, and stopped.
It almost killed us to stop.
We smelled the blood, though; she'd torn a little, an abrasion like a rug burn. Too rough, too much for her tiny human body.
"Don't," she begged. "It's barely a scrape. You know that. Your nose is just sensitive. I told you. I wanted it. Hard. Fuck me. Fuck me the way he never will, the way I'll never beg him to. He treats me like a robin's egg that fell out of the nest, like I'll crack any second. Always so careful; like I'm too precious, too pure to share with me all of himself. I'd welcome the wolf, but he's terrified of it-unlike you."
I panted, locking down on my muscles, forcing back the phase. I pressed her into the sheer rock face at the rear of the cliff-top clearing. No soft fuck in the tall grass and wildflowers for us.
She bit my lip and I saw myself in the shine of her eyes, the wolf's burning, molten gold stare reflected back at me in their liquid depths.
"You're sure?" I checked one last time.
She growled, tightening her arms around me, latching onto my neck, lips and teeth scraping, sucking, lapping at me, nails digging into taut, quiver muscle, pleading, "Fuck, yes! Give me your wolf!"
So I did. I slammed her back hard into the rock, lifting one of her legs, opening her out a little and driving home. I hammered into her, forcing breathless grunts between her lips that I captured in a burning kiss.
I pulled her top to the side and leaned back to look at her undulating torso. Her head was thrown back, naked, full breasts thrust forward - more so even with the cups of her top pushed aside, pressing her luscious tits together. The rosy peaks of her nipples were irresistible to the wolf, and to me, her heaving breasts bouncing with every thrust, every gasp, every groan.
I hunched down a little to lap at her candy pink nipples, but the height difference was too much.
"Down," she demanded, wiggling to clarify her request.
The wolf couldn't submit, though; couldn't let her have top even though I wouldn't mind. It was up to me to figure it out.
I kneeled instead, bringing her down to my lap, laying her out in my arms so I could lean forward and lap at the tips of her creamy tits. She moaned and circled her hips, grinding her clit against my pubic bone.
She rested her hands on my shoulders and picked up the pace, grinding on me hard, her hands tightening around my neck as her fervor grew. The familiar sounds of her artless little grunts and anxious whimpers echoed around us in the clearing, merely the first harbinger of one of her mind-blowing multiples.
The pressure built, her walls flexing and seizing me in her tight grip as she wailed her way through the first orgasm, soaking my cock and thighs with her tribute, the delicious perfume of her arousal enveloping us like a sweet cloud.
My nostrils flared, the wolf brought to the fore again by the addicting scent we both craved.
I bore down, widening my stance, preparing for the force of her clenching finish.
She raked her nails down my back and I felt the blood well to the surface before it healed almost instantaneously.
She writhed in my arms, getting swept up in the next wave, and whispered provocatively, "Fuck me, make me yours," as the wave of orgasm crashed over her again, but she'd forgotten about the wolf.
You don't provoke the wolf.
He roared, we roared through our release, pumping hard up into her battered pelvis; two hard, final thrusts, jaws clamping down on the tender flesh at the juncture of her neck and shoulder.
We laid claim to our mate, worrying the soft, pale skin between our elongated teeth, coating her inside and out with the slick, oily scent of our saliva, musk, and cum - lots of cum. It overflowed her tight channel, seeping out around the place where we were still joined.
She'd never be his again.
She was ours.
We collapsed, laying side-by-side afterward in a tired heap of sweaty limbs amid the grass and wildflowers, gasping for breath.
The wolf receded, truly content for the first time since I phased. I lapped at the wound, the wolf-enhanced saliva speeding the healing process slightly.
"You marked me," she stated, her voice hushed and reverent. She probed the area around the bite gingerly with her fingertips. It was raw and bruised.
I rose up on my elbow, looking into her eyes worriedly, and tried to explain, "You asked for the wolf. You got him. You begged him to make you his. Now you are."
She stroked my cheek, "I know. I'm not upset. You'd never have taken me when you still saw me as his. Your wolf had to mark me. He can't fight this. I'm marked now. I'm yours."
"And if I do imprint?"
"You won't. I figured it out-a while ago. Imprinting is a sign of weakness, not a reward. It's the wolf's way of forcing the warrior to retire because the man isn't strong enough to share his mind and body with the wolf spirit. Man and wolf must live in concert. If one is imbalanced, both are. The wolf recognizes it even if the man doesn't. The imprint is the wolf's final test. If the man can overcome the imprint, he's strong enough for the wolf to remain. If the man caves to the imprint, softens, puts her needs above the pack or the tribe, the wolf goes and his imprint is the man's consolation. She makes it easier for the man to part with the wolf. It's ... a kindness on the part of the spirits. The wolf can move on to a more capable vessel and the man doesn't go through withdrawal longing for the wolf. The imprint fills the void left by the wolf when he goes."
"So the imprinted wolves are weak?"
"Not weak, but not meant to be great warriors either. They're already talking about retiring so they can age with their imprints. What they don't know, I do know. Billy and Uncle Quil have been letting me read the old journals. A marked mate ages with her wolf. He'll imprint eventually on the mate he chose to mark when it's time for him to retire, too, when the tribe no longer needs wolves. Then, they'll age together."
"Then . . . you're really ours?" I asked in disbelief.
She stretched, wrapping her arms around my neck, her body around mine, as she kissed my chest over my heart, "I'm yours."
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Which wolf am I?
Let the speculation begin. Leave me a review with your guess before you go on to read the answer to the riddle in Chapter 2!