Soulmates and Exceptions #Wattys2016

Craving ***Warning: Mature Theme***

A/N: This would be where  the "mature theme" of the story comes into play. If you are too young, or if it's not your thing, by all means, skip ahead to the next chapter. For those that would like to skip this part, I'll post a less "detailed" summary of what happens at the start of the next chapter.

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     By one mid-summer evening, Brea had enough. She pulled back the blanket and sheets, rising from her bed. It hadn't been dark outside long. She paced the length of her room. She needed to spend more time alone with Jackson. She stopped. She knew just how she would do that. She tiptoed down the hallway to check on her parents. Her mom was already asleep, while her dad read his book. He'd be asleep soon as well. She slid back into her room, closing the door soundlessly. She opened her window and climbed out, thankful that both her home and Jackson's were one-floor dwellings.

     Jackson tried to fall asleep, but failed. The need he had for Brea grew each passing day. A light tapping came from his window, causing him to jump out of his bed to investigate. He found the bright eyes of the girl he had been thinking about staring back at him. "Brea!" He whispered, opening the window and helping her climb into the room. "What are you...?"

     She kissed him. "I needed to see you, silly."

     Jackson looked her up and down. She came over wearing her pajamas, well, the green shorts and purple tank top that she used as pajamas for the summer. The way she was standing in front of him, her top lowered just enough for him to see a part of his mark on her. He now understood why his dad and John had emphasized the difficulty of resisting your soulmate. She shivered slightly. "You're cold." He said more as a statement than a question.

     "I didn't really think this through. It was a bit colder tonight than I'd thought it'd be."

     Jackson grinned, taking her hand to tug her towards his bed. "Get in. I'll warm you up." His hand reached for his neck as soon as the words left his mouth. "I um...meant the blankets...because we said that..." he fumbled his excuse.

     Brea bit her lip and nodded. "I knew what you meant." She crawled onto his bed, slipping under the blanket. Snuggles can be just as good." She patted the spot she made next to herself.

     Jackson climbed in next to her, quickly pulling her close to him, savoring everything about the moment: how she felt in his arms, how she smelled faintly of fruit shampoo, and the flaming warmth he felt all over. "We'll get into so much trouble if anyone catches us."

     Brea toyed with the bangs of his dark hair. "I don't really care right now."

     Jackson rested his hand on her hip and kissed her – Brea kissing back just as needy. Their hands began to roam along their sides and backs. Jackson stopped kissing long enough to pull his shirt off. Brea grabbed his hand, placing it firmly on her waist, under her tank top. Jackson's body twitched from the feeling. He slid his hands up along her sides, his fingertips brushing up far enough to discover that she wasn't wearing a bra. "You're not...um...your bra's..." he stammered softly.

     "I don't usually wear it when I go to bed." She whispered. Brea stifled a moan as he kissed her, rocking his hips into her thigh, showing that he approved of the fashion choice. She slid her hands down his sides, stopping when she came to the band of his shorts. Jackson locked eyes with her as he took her hand and slipped them just under the elastic. Her eyes darkened at the invitation. She slid both his shorts and boxers off, shoving both of the offending clothing articles out of the bed in the process. Kneeling, she reached for the hem of her tank top, when she was stopped by Jackson. He pulled it off of her, letting it drop somewhere on the bed before pulling her against him. Their bare chests pressed together ignited a passion neither had felt before. His hands wandered across her breasts, gently squeezing one as his mouth latched onto the other. Brea breathed heavily, her body on fire with every touch from Jackson. She pulled his face to hers and kissed him deeply, her hands sliding down his torso and his waist, lightly touching the hardness that she found jutting up. His hips bucked, seeking more of her touch. She grasped him a little tighter and moved her hand up and down, trying to find a comfortable rhythm. He put his hand around hers, teaching her how he wanted her to move.

     "Jackson?" A voice called from the door.

     "Brea!" Jackson moaned loudly. Both the moan and outside voice causing the pair to freeze.

     "Yes?" Jackson managed to squeak out, pushing Brea under the covers and pulling them up enough to at least cover Brea and the mark on his chest.

     Spencer waltzed into the room, oblivious to interrupting anything. "I want to say that I'm sorry for..."

     "That's great! I accept! You can leave now! Can I get some privacy?"

     Spencer looked at his brother, noticing the shorts on the floor, his brother's arm hidden under the blankets, flushed face, and the lack of a t-shirt he usually wore. The realization of the situation hit him. "Again?!? Gross." He turned to walk out. Over his shoulder, he called to his brother, "I wonder what Brea would think. Don't worry, I won't tell her...this time." The door closing with a bit more force than needed.

     Jackson raced up to lock the door. He ran a shaky hand through his hair as he returned to Brea. "That was close...maybe...we should..."

  "Be quieter?" Brea bit her lip, standing to slip her shorts and panties to the floor, stepping out of them.

     Any though Jackson had of slowing themselves down and waiting were gone in seconds. He strode over to her in two steps, picked her up, and laid her back on his bed. He kissed her lips, moving them slowly down her body. He swiped a finger against her hot, wet, center. She bucked her hips to his hand, her eyes flying open, and a moan threatening to escape. Jackson silenced her with a kiss. He moved a strand of her brown hair behind her ear and whispered in a husky voice, "Brea, are you absolutely sure you want this?" His hand came to rest on her hip, fingers gripping her tightly, trying to control himself. "We can stop now and wait, but if we keep going, you need to know that I won't be able to stop. I need to know that you want this too."

     "Jacks," she spoke his name in a breath, "I need you. It's the only thing I know for certain right now." She allowed her legs to spread further apart, inviting him to join her.

     Jackson propped himself up on one hand, the other teasing his head against her wetness. Once he had himself positioned, he took Brea's hand, said, "I love you," and thrusted his hips into hers. The couple froze, taking in all of the new sensations they were experiencing.

     Brea broke the silence when she told him, "You can move."

     He smiled and obliged.

     They were told that completing their bonding would be intense, but all descriptions given to them failed to do it justice. The little bit of pain was overpowered by the fullness and pleasure. There couldn't possibly be a drug this addictive. Now, they could strongly sense, to a varying degree what emotion the other was feeling. She laid on his bed, his body curled protectively around her own. Jackson could feel his own happiness, but he could also feel hers, radiating from the mark on his chest. It was soothing enough to lull the couple into a peaceful slumber.

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