keptherwaiting | 1949, Prince Edward Island, Canada

1949, Prince Edward Island, Canada

The bathroom is filled with the steam of hot water, making the room appear to have a hazy glow.

Jasper actually fits in the tub for once, a luxuriously large tub for a luxurious hotel room, and Alice with him, leaning back against his chest, squeezed in between his legs.

They were on Prince Edward Island for the weekend and Alice had wanted something nicer than the roadside motels (or forested areas) just outside the populated areas that Jasper favored.

And who was he to deny her anything? Especially when it has been exactly a year since they met in Philly.

He kisses the top of her head, sighing softly, happily.

He wonders if she knows it’s been a year, and that’s the reason for the weekend and the room. He wonders if she knows that he knows?

Time’s a funny thing for vampires to keep track of, and neither of them have mentioned it yet.

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The new position, pressed between a wall and him—she scrabbles at his shoulders and neck, her legs locking around his waist.

It takes her a minute, to process his request, lost in a fog of need and want and absolute pleasure dancing up her spine.

“Mine,” Alice growls again, moving to take his chin in hand, to make sure he’s looking at her. “You are mine.”

A lamp gets knocked to the floor as he suddenly sets her on the nearby desk, his gaze never leaving hers as he moves in her hard and fast.

“God, yes. Yours, only yours,” he promises, the words as desperate as his movements.

The furniture groans under them, only drowned out by their pants and moans and their bodies moving against and into each other.

“And you’re mine, right? Only mine.”

“—fuck—“ Alice gasps as he sets her back down, his hard thrusts driving her nearly wild.

“Yes, yes, God, just yours,” she groans, her foot pressing into the small of his back. Each thrust forces the air out of her lungs, leaving her gasping and wanting, never wanting this to stop.

The desk is nice and sturdy, and yet the legs threaten to snap under the force of their love-making.

Jasper is just - hungry for her? Her growls and assurances have driven him crazy with desire, needing her so desperately. To physically assure them both that they belong together.

He has to have her on every surface of the room. Which he says as much when he pulls her up again and into his arms.

A blink, and he has her against the low dresser on the other side of the room, her palms set against the flat top as he presses into her from behind.

Still just as hard and fast, though his hand sneaks to her front, finding her center to coax her to release.

“I love you,” he gasps, panting, and the dresser bangs into the wall with some particularly well-aimed thrusts, his fingers working her insistently. “I love you so much.”

“Fuck—“ Alice drops her head to her hands on the table, arching herself back into him, her legs trembling so hard she can barely stay standing.

She’s overwhelmed. By him, their feelings and desires, by his fingers playing her like an instrument. Wildly, it reminds her she hasn’t picked up a violin in years and a half-sob, half-giggle falls from her lips as she pants open mouthed against the wood.

Her fingers tighten, grappling at the edge of the table, cracking the wood with her strength. The strength she so often hides behind daintiness and glamor, that lurks beneath her skin. Curses tumble forth faster now, and then—

—her knees buckle, the fact she’s leaning so heavily on the table being the only thing keeping her from face planting onto the floor as she comes. His name a whine, a gasping sob as she shakes around him, tightening all at once, everywhere. It hits her like a freight train, desperate scrambling at the table, nails scratching deep into the varnish as she cries out.

“Oh God,” Jasper groans, catching her too as her knees buckle and she breaks around him.

He follows her not even a second later, pulled in by the waves of pleasure cascading through her, the tightness of her body. He curls over her as his hips snap into hers one final time, crying out loudly.

And then they’re both curled over the top of the dresser together, breathing heavily, him pressed to her back.

“I love you,” he murmurs, kissing the nape of her neck when he finds his voice again.

He’s much slower to move. He wants to stay pressed close to her a moment longer.

Her hand moves to his hip, thumb running circles against his skin as she trembles under him, aftershocks roiling through her.

Her mouth feels oddly dry and she wets her lips with her tongue as slowly the world comes back into focus around her.

Alice smiles against her shoulder, her hand squeezing his hip. “I love you, too.”

He sighs, happy and sated and so in love with her. He kisses the back of her neck again, her shoulder. He can’t stop.

He drags his nose along her spine, into her hair, breathing her in deeply.

“Okay?” he asks. He knows she is but he always feels compelled to ask when he gets a little more handsy with her like that during sex.

She seems so fragile and yet the strength is definitely there.

His hand covers her on the dresser, and his fingers drift to the dents and scratches left in the wood.

They’ll be paying for that, of course.

“I am more than okay,” Alice mumbles against the arm she now pillows her head on, eyes fluttering closed as his nose moves along her spine.

“I don’t think I can walk again, but that’s a trade off I’m willing to accept.”

Jasper chuckles against her back, and he presses another kiss to her skin.

“I’ll carry you ‘round,” he promises, doing that just now as he finally pulls away from her, only to scoop her up and into his arms.

He carries her over to the bed, in a much more slower pace than of that in the midst of their love-making, and sets her down on the bed. He crawls up next to her, kissing her gently as he does.

“I really like it when you growl,” he admits in a whisper, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear as he watches her.

He’d be blushing if he could as he thinks about the reaction he had to her growl, to her claims of his being hers and her being his.

“I noticed,” Alice teases, drawing her fingers along the side of his face. “And I like it when you toss me around a little.”

Her hand settles at his heart, her smile just as teasing as her tone. “I also like it when you’re possessive. It’s nice to belong to someone. Should I pretend to look at others sometime, make you possessive of me randomly?”

Because she will. Flirt with someone just to rile Jasper up—she’s seen the way he glares when she’s sweet to fair attendants and museum workers. She could up the ante if it makes him take her like that again.

“Don’t you dare!” Jasper looks a little terrified at the idea, though he does laugh because he can tell she’s teasing. “I might just kill them.”

He’s never thought of himself as so possessive - overprotective, yes, but possessive? And yet the very thought -

He shakes his head, and then leans into kiss her.

“You’re so bad. You could just ask me to take you like that, if you want it.”

Alice laughs into his kiss, smoothing her hands through his hair. “I love you,” she whispers against his lips. “So much.”

She kisses him again for a moment, a soft press of her mouth against his before she giggles and pulls away again. “If I tell you to take me like that, you’ll get all flustered and I’ll have to make baseless threats of flirting with poor humans anyway.”

She’s right: He probably would get flustered.

He feels flustered as his gaze drifts around the room, to the lamp on the floor, the desk moved, and the scratches in the wood of the dresser.

She knows him too well, and his lips twist in a grin and then a pout when he looks back at her.

“I’d try.”

Alice topples him again, pushing him onto his back so she can straddle his waist, her hands firm on his shoulders.

“You are adorable. I wish you could blush, so I could make it happen every second of every day.”

With that said, she dips down to trail her lips along his jaw.

“That word is reserved for you, adorable,” he says with a playful scoff as he tips his head back at the first touch of her lips at his jaw. “I’m supposed to be charming, a gentleman.”

Jasper loves these moments after. The touching and kissing that doesn’t end, and the giggling and flirting and all the teasing. All of which will likely lead to another round soon.

His lips twist into a grin as he runs his fingers through her cropped hair, pushing it back from her face.

“I love you.”

“Oh, you’re charming,” Alice giggles against his jaw. “And sometimes your gentlemanliness is infuriating.”

She pulls back, leaning into his hands as they push her hair back. “But I love it anyway. Just like I love you.”

Her smile blooms as she looks down at him, as if the mere sight of his face fills her with joy and it’s true. It does. He does.

Her fingers trace the scar at his chin before she darts forward and kisses him again.

“Hey, what do you mean my gentlemanliness is infuriating?”

He’s pouting into her kiss and also chasing her lips with his own.

“Is that not what a woman wants?”

“Oh it’s lovely most of the time,” she chases the pout away with another kiss.

“But sometimes,” Alice bumps his nose with hers, “I don’t want the gentleman. Like earlier. I liked that, a lot.”

There’s heavy emphasis on the last two words, before she kisses him again.

“Oh, a lot?” he asks, with a nervous, bashful laugh.

He’s nervous he won’t be able to match it again - that crazed, wildness he’d felt in needing to claim her. And yet -

He kisses her, grabbing her hips, and he flips her so he’s pressing her into the mattress.

It’s not quite with the same passion as from before, he’s a little too careful, but he’s trying.

He trails his lips to her jaw, nipping at her gently, before he continues onto her neck, nosing at her as he breathes her in again.

“My scent is all over you,” he notes with a whisper. He likes that.

She makes a strangled sort of noise when he grabs her hips and flips them and desire floods her once again.

Yes, exactly like that, she thinks, her grin sharp.

Then his words, about his scent on her—she groans, tilting her hips against his.

“That’s because I’m yours,” she whispers, breathlessly. “Only yours.”

“Alice - “

Jasper groans softly - that claim of hers definitely does turn him on - and he rubs himself against her.

He bites at her neck, not hard enough to break her skin and scar her, but with pressure - just enough. He licks the same spot a moment later, dragging his tongue slowly across her skin.

The pressure of his teeth at her neck drags a long whine out of her, a shiver that wracks her entire body.

Then his tongue, tracing where his teeth had been, painting across her skin. Her fingers twitch at his sides, digging in and then releasing.

“Only yours,” Alice whispers again, a desperate quality coloring her voice as she babbles, “I never wanted to be anyone else’s, just yours—“

“Oh God,” he groans again, rubbing himself against her once more.

He wants to just take her again, right then and there, and yet he wants to taste her more.

His gaze is dark and hungry as he decides and moves, picking her up and sitting her at the foot of the bed where he kneels before her.

“And I want you,” he murmurs, nipping at her thighs as he spreads her legs wide for him. “Only you.”

“Fuck,” Alice groans, her fingers pushing through Jasper’s curls. She feels so debauched when he holds her legs open like that.

She loves it. She loves him.

His decision plays out in her mind—a vision sparked by the moment he moved. Her, undone by his mouth; something she never grows tired of.

Her hips jerk on their own accord and she growls softly at the nips he leaves on her thighs. If it could beat, she thinks her heart would hammer out of her chest with how much she needs him, wants him, loves him, the feelings not at all tempered by their previous lovemaking twice before.

Always, she wants him. He’s hers, and she’s his.

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