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It begins as a game, the way it always does, until she skilfully turns it around. Her mate's scent is musk and something like gunpowder smoke in the air getting heavier. He's pursuing her relentlessly, and when he catches up with her no quarter will be given, there's no distracting Jasper once he's sure of his course. The only option Alice has is to double back through the undergrowth and set herself on his tail.
She thinks privately he likes it when she confounds him like that. It's been years, and he still forgets she can be sneaky. Mostly because he believes she's better than he is.
In the clearing, he stops, confused, sensing mixed messages and deception. She waits until he has spun once to launch forward and knock him onto his back, pressing him hard into the dirt, into the rich earth.
He snaps his teeth at her, token resistance, and she laughs, softly, grinding against him so that his eyes go wide. They were hidden from her in her early visions, or rather blurred like he hadn't quite decided on something important, and she first saw them properly from across the diner as rain hammered on the roof. He was tall and scarred and marked apart, his stare a dark, dangerous red, and she'd thought, yes, that's right, that's Jasper. Alice had just known then, before he took her hand, before he apologized for taking so long.
“Don't think you're ever getting away,” she reproaches, squeezing her knees tight into his thighs, reinforcing the point.
He smirks, and she's thankful because that could have been the wrong thing to say. Usually she can call Jasper's reactions very well, but not when it comes to things that remind him of his time with Maria, forsaken days with no hope or clarity of thought beyond blood and lust.
“What're you going to do, Alice?” He asks, and she clouds her eyes and concentrates for his benefit, even though she doesn't need to see.
“I'm going to stay right where I am,” she says, rolling her hips. “right here. You're going to enjoy it like that, I promise.”
He shifts uneasily beneath her, raises a knee then lowers it then brings it up again. It's obvious what he wants, to wrestle back his often mocked control, much stronger than Edward gives him credit for.
“That's how you saw it?”
“Of course. You trust me, don't you?”
“Yes.” He says shortly, because it really is that simple, he won't ever let himself be used again and he trusts her to the end of their eternity.
Jasper has killed ruthlessly and as routine, cut through scores of newborns like swinging a scythe through stalks of corn. She wonders idly if he'd let her destroy him, still. His eyes are darkening fast, betraying his impatience. He's certainly very thirsty now.
“Am I keeping you, Jazz?” she asks sweetly, and he growls, tugs hard at the button on her pants, rubbing his knuckles up and down below the crotch, sliding his hand flat in between them and she's so slick for him, folds opening so naturally.
He nuzzles her neck while she rides his fingers, her own burrowing under his shirt to find his nipples and pinch. He jerks, grunting suddenly, making her realize she better give him some fairer attention than that. She strokes low on his stomach, edging down to the glint of golden hair and wet. The slowness makes him painfully hard under her hand. Alice rids them of their belts and spreads herself apart, shuddering when he touches her, intermittent flicking at her clit to get her back for blindsiding him, jarring goodness fluttering like butterfly wings.
She interlaces their fingers and bends his hands back onto the forest floor, licking his lips leading into soft kissing. Then she leans away, teasing as he reaches for her. For the split second before she starts rocking herself on him, she is looking up into the constantly overcast sky, lost in the spinning circle of trees.