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Stephanie Meyer owns it all. I just like to play with her characters.
"Oh my, oh my God, don't stop, don't stop!" I screamed as his tongue plundered wet opening, drawing me closer to the edge of insanity. He soon replaced his tongue with one finger and then another.
"Tell me what you want you want Chérie. I'll give you anything you want - you just have to ask me," he said, before he broke into French. "Je veux que vous vous sentiez chaque centimètre de ma bite dure." I want you to feel every inch of my hard cock.
Hearing the sound of his voice as he spoke took me over the edge, "Fuck yes! Aghhhhhh!"
"We're not done yet Chérie. I want another one from you," he demanded.
Being blindfolded, it was all about smell, taste and touch. He kissed his way up my body, lingering at my breasts and finally a gentle kiss behind my ear as he tapped my hip and whispered to roll over onto my hands and knees. As I did, I could hear beeping in the background. It grew louder and louder until I pulled the blindfold from my eyes only to be greeted with the morning sun streaming in through my sheer curtains.
What the hell? Nooooo, I cried, realizing that it may have been the best dream of my life.
Reluctant to the let the dream go, I turned the alarm off and closed my eyes hoping to fall back into the dream - the dream where I was about to be thoroughly fucked by the man who secretly owns my body. Obviously, Saturday was weighing heavy on my mind. While it was a super way to start the morning, it left me craving more.
I went through my morning routine at home, stopped at Starbucks on the way to subway and took the train uptown to my office at the the Whitney. "Good morning Peter. How's Charlotte?" I asked.
"She's looking more beautiful everyday - but if you ask her she'll say she looks like the Goodyear blimp." Peter replied.
"I won't ask her, but I do need to see her when she arrives this morning." I said, leaving Peter to his duties.
Reaching my office, I discarded my bag onto my desk and organizing for the morning. I made sure to wear a suit that looked like I meant business this morning. I paired my silver silk camisole with my dark grey pencil skirt, silver belt and matching grey two-button jacket. The outfit was completed with my uber-comfy Cole Haan Chelsea Grey pumps. I always strived to make a good first impression when new in-house artists arrive.
Today is the day that Edward Cullen arrives for the next few months. He's coming in today to meet the staff, review items for the exhibit and see his studio space. I'll be the professional curator, hostess and employer but I'm dreading sharing the same space with him. The couple of times I've met him before, he made me extremely self-conscious and nervous. I felt out of my league and I've been around some of the most prominent artists my whole life.
Deep breaths Bella. I chanted the mantra in my head as my phone rang.
"Isabella Swan speaking." I answered.
"Good morning Ms. Swan, this is Riley Biers, Edward Cullen's assistant. He asked me to phone you and let you know that he's on his way to the museum. The truck will be there for delivery at two pm." he explained.
"What truck? We only receive deliveries on Thursday with appointments." I explained, fearing that this was the start of what I dreaded most - the house of Cullen crashing down on me.
"Mr. Cullen's supplies and equipment. He's anxious to begin work. Mr. Volturi said that you could accommodate the delivery." Riley insisted.
"Of course we can. My team will be awaiting the delivery. Let me know if there is anything else I can do, Mr. Biers." I said in a fake, accommodating tone.
"Thank you Ms. Swan." I heard the dial tone before I could could end the call.
I sat my phone down, took a deep breath before pushing the intercom button for Charlotte, our head of security. "Charlotte, do you have a moment?"
"Sure thing Bella, I'll waddle right over." Charlotte replied.
Moments later, Charlotte appeared in my office door. "Thank God you're here. We have an unscheduled delivery from Edward Cullen at two pm today. Any of our teams available to receive?" I asked.
"Part of the crew is here working on security upgrades. With our on-call guys I can assemble a team. Jake Black is hopefully available. He's done security for us before," she explained, looking through her iPhone for information.
"Great. Thank you. I know it's unusual, but so is Edward Cullen who should be arriving at any moment. I believe we should expect the unexpected during his stay." I said.
Charlotte raised her eyebrows at me before speaking, "I think we should retain Mr. Black's services during this time. I'd feel more comfortable if we had some additional security in place in case Junior here decides to come early."
"I agree. Let's go ahead and make that happen. I'd like to meet him when you bring him in for orientation." I said, feeling relieved to know that there would be essentially another, non-pregnant Charlotte in the museum.
I walked Charlotte back to her office, catching up on the latest office gossip. I spied from the reflection in her window as a group of people walked into the museum. Our guides quickly moved them through the ticket lines, except for one person standing at the back of the group.
He stood there in his dark, denim jeans, cream colored cable knit turtleneck sweater and a camel colored wool dress coat with dark brown leather lace up boots looking like a God. Clean shaven, but his hair stood up as if his hands ran through it constantly, his presence was palpable in the building.
With a deep breath and a prayer, I turned and walked to where he stood. His eyes never left mine as I walked towards him, once again stirring my nerves. As I reached where I stood, I held out my hand to shake his, "Welcome Mr. Cullen. The Whitney is so glad you could join us. I'm Isabella Swan."
His hand grasped mine and there was an electric current that ran between us, neither one of us letting go of each other's hands. "Ms. Swan, I've heard so much about you and am looking forward to working with you. Where do we begin?" He said with something mysterious and almost challenging behind his eyes.
