Blood Bank // Jacob X Edward

Chapter 2

"Jacob. I won't tell you again. Open your legs," Edward commands, but his voice never tips over a quiet volume. Jacob breathes out a shaky breath through his nose, eyes still locked on Edward's. His bottom lip quivers and his legs spread open.

It earns a pleased smile from the vampire, subtle and only really a quirk at the corners of his lips. "Good boy."

Edward grips Jacob's other thigh with his free hand and dips back in to consume Jacob's mouth and groans, tongues wet and swirling together in a clash of heat versus cold. It's perfect.

Edward's right hand gropes at the hard muscle of Jacob's left thigh and continues to travel up to Jacob's crotch. His fingertips delicately graze up Jacob's slit, and Jacob has to pull away to silence the moan in his throat — which tingles due to the venom he swallowed. He leans back a bit with his hands supporting his weight behind him. His back has arched, shoulders hunched up, and chest puffed out. Edward's barely even touched him yet.

Edward chuckles and goes in to place sloppy kisses at Jacob's neck just under his jaw. The skin is heated remarkably, and Edward can feel the pulse pumping beneath the surface where he suckles and nips lightly. Lathes his tongue over it and starts to use his two middle fingers to rub the pads of his fingertips in slow circles at Jacob's clit.

It's not wet with Jacob's slick, causing more friction and intensifying the swelling sensation of arousal — Edward can smell it in his mate's pheromones. And Jacob's body can recognise its imprint, prepares him for the imprint wantonly despite Jacob's natural tightness and his feelings towards the imprint. Jacob whimpers, his face flushed dark red and pinched in a shameful expression, and his thigh muscles tighten.

Edward kneads the taught muscle in Jacob's twitching thigh and applies more pressure at his clit, quickening his pace slightly as he attacks Jacob's bite-infested neck, drawing breathy moans out of them both. Smooths his tongue over the indents of his own teeth marks and swirl it around before sucking the flesh in to mouth at it like a teething baby. The venom he slathers Jacob's skin in starts to buzz with tingles like it does in his mouth.

The stink of wet dog isn't that bad for Edward. Jacob's natural musk and wine-like blood are what pull him in, making him able to latch onto the wolf and not let go. He can still smell the metallic twang of dried blood and earthy dirt of the forest smeared across Jacob's body from not that long ago.

Edward's like a wasp. He stings, and he keeps stinging, and he doesn't stop. He doesn't let go. It doesn't kill him like it would for a bee. He's invasive and just takes and hurts just because he can.

Slick is starting to gather at Jacob's hole, seeping out and wetting the tip of Edward's finger when he brushes into it. He swipes his cool, two middle fingers down to Jacob's heated entrance, coating them in his slick and massages them at Jacob's hole, coaxing more slick to ease out. When it does, Edward draws back and lifts his hand up to his mouth, swiping his tongue over his slick-coated fingers before sucking them off as he connects his gaze with Jacob's.

Jacob lets out a more audible moan, tapering off into one of those cute little whimpers Edward adores. His hole clenches at the emptiness and teasing — the promise of what he will get. The sounds are becoming obscener. Quiet wet squelches as Edward's fingers find their way back down to Jacob's throbbing cunt and goes back in for Jacob's mouth, sharing slick and saliva, the smacking of lips with hushed panting in the otherwise silent room.

When it's silent, and it's the soft sounds of their acts that hide in the air like a secret, is when Jacob hates it the most. Turns him on the most.

Somewhere, distantly, in the back of Jacob's mind is the reminder his father is in the room down the hall. And he's here, doing this. Getting molested. It's sick.