Jasper (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
keptherwaiting) wrote2020-09-04 10:58 am
keptherwaiting) wrote2020-09-04 10:58 am
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.
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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Her hand wraps around him again as her tongue darts out to taste him, groaning at the contact. Then, she lowers her mouth to encompass him, pushing herself as far down as she can.
If he’s not going to last long, she’s going to make it worth it.
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His hands drift to her head, fingers curling in her hair, as he gives a low moan.
He blinks back stars to watch her, her mouth curved around him, taking as much of him in as she can.
“God, Alice - Please. Please.”
He doesn’t even know what he’s asking for - or begging for, truly. Her? Release? Definitely her, always her. And release too.
His hips jerk upward, just a little, and his fingers tighten in her hair.
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Slowly, Alice drags her mouth up, her tongue swirling around the tip of him before descending once more. Her pace quickens now, with his desperation, bobbing her head up and down, swallowing him down.
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And then she’s bobbing her head, taking him swiftly, confidently, and Jasper can’t -
He can’t hold off any longer.
Doesn’t want to.
“Alice,” he gasps, warns, fingers tightening in her hair again.
It’s too good.
She’s too good to him, for him, and he can’t believe she’s all his.
He cries out, a curse and a dry sob as he breaks.
“Oh, God. Oh shit, darlin’. I love you - Oh, I love you, Alice. Fuck.”
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Enjoying every second of this, the feel of him, the taste and smell of him—Alice can’t get enough of it.
He makes her so happy, he makes her feel complete, like she belongs somewhere. She loves him, so much.
With her mouth otherwise occupied, she pushes that love toward him in a wave of emotion, to make sure he knows her reply.
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He’d certainly be blushing now if he could, overwhelmed by the love he feels from her, as she continues to take him, at her lips wrapped around him and her tongue on him still.
“Alice - “
His other hand reaches for her, patting at her head, her shoulder.
He draws out her name again in a low whine, a groan.
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Her fingers trace scars at his neck, and she hums, content.
“You okay?” There’s a giggle in her voice as she picks her head up to look at him.
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His breathing, heavy at first, still coming down from the height of his pleasure, evens out finally and he turns into her embrace, blinking.
His smile is as slow as his drawl.
“Hi, beautiful,” he murmurs, reaching out with a hand to trace her lips with his fingertips.
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God, she loves him. How many times does she think that? Say it? Not enough.
Kissing his fingertips, Alice then takes his wrist and moves his hand so he’s cupping her cheek and she can lean into the touch.
“You’re beautiful,” she murmurs, looking down at the pretty picture he paints—half lidded eyes and blonde curls tousled against the pillows. The strong lines of his neck and shoulders, the shape of his nose. She loves it all.
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“You’re perfect,” he murmurs, running his thumb along her cheekbone.
His gaze is full of the love he feels for her as he stares at her.
Just looking at her could make his heart speed up. Her delicate features, the wideness of her eyes, her perfect nose and mouth, those dark locks of hers tousled from his fingers.
He’ll never tire of looking at her, he thinks. She really is perfect, to him.
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Laying her head on his shoulder again, she closes her eyes, basking in the quiet and the rise and fall of his chest under her.
Not for the first time, she wishes she could sleep—just so she could fall asleep here, on him, safe and sound.
“I love you,” Alice whispers, her voice soft and small as she turns her head to press a kiss against his shoulder.
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Picking up on her content, and the desire for quiet, he runs his fingers along her back, calm and soothing. A lullaby of a touch, truly.
He breathes softly, in sync with her, and everything is utterly perfect.
She’s right: They are the luckiest pair.