Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight.
Lingering Exception
Twenty years...
And there he was just as he had been. Same curly black hair, same perfectly flawless complexion, same dimple donning his left cheek. He was just as he had been in high school so many years ago, the exact same as when she had seen him last, at Edward and Bella's wedding.
It's dark in her room and she knows Ben is somewhere downstairs finishing up work but it doesn't matter when she opens the window to let him jump onto her carpet (he barely makes a sound.)
"You-"
He cuts off her whisper with one of his own, "Don't say anything, and forget everything when I leave, okay?"
"How can I forget-?"
He clasps her hand and brings it to her silken robe covered breast where her heart lay, "You keep it right there."
And then his lips take hers, and she's gone.
She hasn't felt this since she was younger, so much younger when Ben used to savor her body because it was new and beautiful. After two kids and twenty years, it tends to take a toll on one's mortal body. But the way in which he kissed her, the feel of his hands when he held her...it all made her feel eighteen and young and oh so beautiful again.
His hands skim up her hips, bringing the fabric with it and baring her lush, warm skin to his touch. She moans when his cold hands make contact with her soft flesh and she's so lost in this moment she wants to spiral into those emotions, those feelings forever.
She wants to forget her two children, her needy, greedy husband and just let the feel of this beautiful angel's body take her over completely, and he does.
His tongue strokes her mouth in ways that make her very legs shake, his hands grasp the cup of her ass, lifting her onto his hips as her long legs wind around his waist. Her robe parts, exposing her entire being to him and he stops, eyes darkening impenetrably as he inhales.
This is why he is here.
He lays her down on the bed she shares with her ignorant husband and kneels before he naked flesh. His nose skims the wet flesh there, feeding the fire raging in his throat but he withholds because he wants this, wants her so very badly.
Suddenly then, his head is buried between her legs and she biting her lip so as not to scream from the torrent of pleasure that assaults her, and he almost can't take it. Her scent, her taste, his name on her beautiful lips (and she's actually saying it like she wants to) it's all almost too much to handle, but he needs this so much it doesn't matter if it kills him in the process.
He laps her up like a feast, tongue moving in such inhumane ways she's almost begging for him to stop but he won't, because he needs her release just as badly as she does. Slowly, he enters one long, thick finger into her tight, contracting pussy.
She moans his name once more and he almost shatters.
His mouth moves faster, her chest heaving just as fast and then it happens. Her muscles tighten, every single muscle in her entire body flexes as her back arches, pushing her sex even closer to his face as he drinks her in, tasting every last drop, wringing every last contraction from her beautiful pussy.
She feels him kiss her cheek, "Thank you."
He's gone then, but she can feel him, lingering in the air, in her skin and in her very soul.