The following is what happens when you're stuck with your main story and pulling out your hair constantly. Lonely nights and too much James Deen will also do this to you. Could also be that a certain person is not providing you with tasteful erotic movies anymore and all that's left for you to do is watch five minute fragments on xvideos(dot)something.

It's gonna be a short story, maybe twelve chapters, told first in Bella's POV and then Edward's.

KINKY. ADULT READERS ONLY. 21+

Not for the faint-hearted – at least that's what my beta mcc101180 told me. And since I listen to my girl, this is your warning.

If you're not a good girl and hate leather belts striking your bum, please leave. Now.

Contains BDSM.

When We Meet

Part I

Bella

When we meet, there is no kissing.

When we meet, there is no cuddling, either.

There is nothing remotely sweet about our meetings. Still the goal is our mutual pleasure. And you provide plenty of that. Go figure.

But sometimes ... just sometimes ... your touch is soft and sweet. Just like the touch of a lover. Even if it's just your warm hand, soft like a feather on the small of my naked back, holding me in place, or your lingering hand on the side of my neck, grounding me, reassuring. Sometimes your fingers would softly run down my spine. Sometimes you'd hold my face between your hands and kiss the top of my head. Sometimes I get lost in your eyes.

And sometimes, when we're done – when I lie next to you, trying hard to fall asleep – I wish we would cuddle. I wish you would kiss me, let me feel that soft looking lips of yours. Sometimes I'm starving for your lips.

But instead, I lie there next to you most nights, our bodies not touching an inch – even though we share a small blanket – except for when you accidentally throw your arm around me in your sleep. It's just that: an accident. I lie awake until the morning comes creeping through your curtains and prepare to leave, as I usually do. I will come back to you next week, no doubt about it. I always do. And then I'll leave again; wishing for more.

We're not lovers.

We have an agreement.

I should be grateful, and I am – after all, you're doing me a favor.

But I want more.

So much more.

I want all or nothing.

And since I can't have it all...

...I settle for your leather belt.

For now.