Age of Edward Contest
Title: The Confessional
Your pen name: Insane Bliss
Type of Edward: Popeward
If you would like to see all the stories that are a part of this contest visit: The Age of Edward C2 Community:
http://www(DOT)fanfiction(DOT)net/community/The_Age_of_Edward_Contest/70125/
A/N: I just wanted to give a quick thanks to my mastah beta extraordinaire Frankie (mummysmonster/ lady. lucks) for working her magic on this. Also a quick shout-out to my TT ladies, I love you bitches!
Disclaimer: Twilight is not mine.
It started out as a brilliant plan.
Really it had.
But of course, as the fate with most elaborate schemes, it had quickly veered off the path of brilliant ideas and careened into the realm of 'What the fuck was I thinking?' You would think I would have learned my lesson in the past twenty-eight years, especially after many 'brilliant plans' met similar, tragic demises, but apparently I hadn't.
I swear it was a good idea at the time. As if that one had never been used before.
My self-preservation finally kicked in. That was the only explanation I had.
If only it kicked in earlier I may never have suffered those two, very long years in The Leads prison. Escaping from prison triggered this instinct I guess. Then again, prison seems much more appealing than my current situation, because at the moment I, Edward 'Casanova' Cullen, was recently elected Mr. High and Mighty, His Holiness Himself, Pope Clement XIII.
Again, it seemed like a good idea at the time.
When I escaped from The Leads, I panicked; everyone in Venice knew my face, thanks to a very public trial. Would the Catholic Church never tire of making examples of people? The answer is no. They never would. The bastards. I knew remaining in the city I loved was no longer an option and I hastily fled to Paris, hoping my old friend de Bernis would be able to provide me with not only shelter, but also a new life. Identity included.
Being friends with the French Foreign Minister certainly had its perks. Less than a week after my escape to Paris I donned the soutane of Carlo della Torre Rezzonico, a very popular young Cardinal from Venice. Unbeknownst to me, and the rest of the world, he had died in a freak accident at a brothel, an accident that his family wished to cover up to avoid scandal. Who knew that a threesome could end so badly? At least it was one hell of a way to go. I couldn't have picked a better way myself.
De Bernis believed I resembled the Cardinal enough to be worthy to assume his identity, and by resemble I mean that I was around the same age and height. The similarities ended there, because let's face it, that man was one ugly son of a bitch while I am one fine male specimen, if I do say so myself. I do.
It was the perfect cover.
No one would expect the infamous Casanova to masquerade as a Cardinal, or any other member of the clergy for that matter, and it went smoothly for a little over a year.
Until I was elected Pope.
When Pope Benedict XIV died, despite my very young age, I was rather promptly elected Pope, where I would spend the rest of my meager existence as the face of the Catholic Church. As it turns out Cardinal Rezzonico was very popular with his colleagues (it probably had something to do with his underground prostitution ring; that ugly son of a bitch sure was pimpin).
Which leads me to my current predicament.
As a Cardinal, I never had any trouble finding women to satisfy my almost insatiable needs. I found myself having infinitely more trouble in the month I've been Pope, my frustration growing ten-fold over the past two weeks or so ever since I met her. She was Sister Isabella Swan. Sister Isabella Swan was sure to be the death of me. Cause of death: lack of blood flow above the waist. How one woman, a nun no less, could completely consume my every waking thought and star in all my most recent fantasies was beyond me. I was a man possessed and it started over the most innocent of things, at least on her part.
I don't think anything on my part can be classified as innocent anymore.
Was there ever a time that I was innocent? I guess there was that time on vacation in Naples and I met that…nope, definitely not an innocent encounter.
I sat in the confessional, bored out of my mind. Why did nuns even bother with confession? From where I sit, the things they whisper in their most reverent tones don't classify as sins-- not by a long shot. Hell, I don't even classify what I do as sins. I can't believe I agreed to hear confession until the new priests that will be in charge of this are appointed. Come to think of it, I think I was half asleep and just a little inebriated. Ok so maybe more than just a little, but who was really keeping track? I sure as hell wasn't. The only upside to this was I had yet to have to confess myself. It gave me a little more time to solidify what I thought would be appropriate sins for a Pope.
The slight rustling of a curtain and the sound of someone entering the confession booth brought me back to the present. I briefly wondered how much longer I would have to endure this torture in the too small, too cramped, pitiful excuse for a place to confess sins, before a soft, dulcet voice broke through the haze in my mind.
"Bless me, Your Holiness, for I have sinned. It has been one week since my last confession." She sounded young and with a voice like honey, I could easily listen to her for hours on end. Wait, what? Since when am I impressed by a voice? This mundane task really is slowly killing my brain cells, and I've just experienced my first sign of brain damage. I need to get out of here.
Now.
"What is the nature of your sins?" My question was automatic after hearing what seemed like hundreds of confessions over the course of the afternoon, leaving me free to start planning my escape. I could say that God told me to go save the orphans. Orphans were much easier to deal with than nuns, right?
"I have been having impure thoughts lately." This immediately piqued my interest and banished all thoughts of escape. Impure thoughts from a young nun, this definitely was going to be interesting. And entertaining. And hot, especially with a voice like hers. Maybe she'll say something dirty.
"And what is the nature of these impure thoughts?" My voice was laced with barely repressed excitement. Hopefully she wouldn't notice, but even if she did, I didn't care. I had much more important things to think about, like the internal chant that had taken residence in my thoughts. Please elaborate, please elaborate, please elaborate. I wanted every little detail. And visual representations. I wonder if she would be opposed to acting out said impure thoughts…
"I find myself discontent with being a nun. The days are so long and hard and I don't take any pleasure from my work. I don't feel as if this is what I'm supposed to do with my life." I could barely suppress a groan when she placed an emphasis on the words, long, hard, and pleasure, or was that just my imagination? No, it couldn't be. I didn't imagine stuff like that, did I? I did just admit to suffering brain damage, so perhaps now I was delusional. Somehow, I didn't find this very comforting.
Delusional or not, my mind was working overtime, over run with fantasies. Oh Sister Isabella, how I could give you something long and hard that would bring you great pleasure. I really liked the thought of that, and so did certain parts of my anatomy.
How hard would it be to convince her to come to my office? I'm sure I could lure her there under the pretense of discussing her future. No, it wouldn't be hard at all. Although my continued use of the word hard is only making things below the waist worse.
"Your Holiness?" Her voice broke through my thoughts once more, and I realized I had been silent for too long.
I also realized that I had a full schedule and would be surrounded by people for the remainder of the day. Slipping away would not be possible, no matter how much I desperately needed it. This was no longer a matter of want, but of need, and for the first time since the whole plan had been put into motion over a year ago, I started to question it.
Fuck, I was screwed. Unfortunately, not literally.
"You are not having impure thoughts, my child, just ones of discontentment. Go pray that you will find solace in your work, and try to enjoy that you are working in the name of The Lord." I finished with a prayer, blessed her, and then she was gone. I sat in the booth for a long time after that, her voice echoing around my memory, doing nothing to help the situation that had grown beneath my robes. Luckily no more nuns came to bother me, and by the time someone came to fetch me, I had been able to calm myself down.
That would have been an interesting one to explain. Somehow I don't think they would appreciate my excuse of getting turned on doing God's work, especially not after I already lied about how much my work makes me feel closer to Him.
Her voice continued to haunt me for the rest of the day, through the night, and into the early hours of the morning. Perhaps that is why I found myself wandering around before dawn, contemplating how I was supposed to survive now. I had been Pope for two weeks and people had finally left me alone. Having people constantly following me around had become a pain, even after the first hour. It had definitely put a damper on my…extracurricular activities and I desperately needed to find a way to relieve my built up sexual frustration.
I knew two convents of nuns lived within the walls of Vatican City, I had heard most of their confessions the day before, and while I had seduced many young nuns before, I would save them as a last resort since I lived within such close proximity to them; I needed to try and maintain my cover as much as possible. Although as Pope, I was extremely confident that I was untouchable. That last though put a smile on my face and a spring in my step as I more enthusiastically traipsed around the place that was my new home.
It was still very early as I made my way into Saint Peter's Basilica, which is probably how I avoided my normal entourage of advisors that kept me away from all the major tourist spots in my new home. I expected to find the church empty except for maintenance staff or the ever-present Swiss Guard, but upon rounding a corner into the nave of the basilica I was greeted by a small shriek and a soft thud. Glancing around I quickly spotted the source of the small commotion. A nun was picking herself up off the floor near the Papal alter, straightening her habit and softly murmuring to herself.
Her muttering continued as she began to look around the ground as if searching for something lost. Although I could not make out her features, or what she was saying, her actions were very entertaining. My amused chuckle and approaching footsteps immediately made her freeze and turn stiffly towards me.
"Your Holiness!" Her astonished voice rang out like a bell, and I almost halted in my approach; I would recognize that voice anywhere. I continued my journey forward, and as I approached, a crimson blush gave a rosy tint to her pale face. The closer I got to where she remained rooted in place, the darker red her face became.
"I…I…I know," her nervousness was oddly endearing (God I was turning into a sap. A pathetic sap.), "this altar is where you celebrate mass and that I shouldn't be here right now but I was sent to retrieve something for Sister Andria and I got lost because I haven't been here very long and then I was startled by something attacking the bottom of my habit and…"
I stopped about five feet in front of her and her words ceased to register in my mind. She was absolutely stunning, and not even her wide-eyed and worried expression could mar her perfectly sculpted features. Her big, beautiful brown eyes were dancing with life and intelligence. Her flawless pale skin was still tinged with a hint of pink, giving her cheeks a rosy glow. I felt the corners of my mouth lift up, and I wasn't the only one who noticed.
"Why are you smiling?" Her question brought me back to reality and I realized that I had been staring at her intently throughout her ramble.
"Because you're amusing," my response seemed to simultaneously surprise and embarrass her. Her eyes widened and her cheeks flushed that beautiful shade of crimson once more.
"What is your name?"
"Bella. Sister Isabella I mean." Bella. Beautiful, just like her. It was surprisingly fitting, and I briefly wondered if her parents knew how striking their daughter would grow up to be. How did a woman this beautiful become a nun? Deciding that probably was too personal of a question for the moment (great, now I'm a dandy), I asked one that seemed more relevant.
"What are you looking for? Did you drop something?"
"Oh," her eyes wandered to the floor and traveled around for a few moments before returning to mine, "I was trying to figure out what I felt attacking my habit. I think it was a rat." She shuddered at that revelation, and muttered something under her breath about how there were more rats in this place than there were people in Rome.
"Perhaps you should get a cat," I teased and was rewarded with a smile and a laugh.
"Perhaps I shall."
We parted ways after that, I was called away to perform some of my duties, but for the rest of the day Bella ran through my mind and she starred in my dreams once again that night. In my life, I had encountered numerous beautiful women but none of them had ever stopped me in my tracks before. I couldn't help but be captivated by her; there was just something about her. Of course this unusual captivation could be chalked up to me having been deprived of sex for the past few weeks.
Yes, that had to be it. For as long as I could remember, I had felt a burning desire and a passion that could only momentarily be relieved in the body of a beautiful woman. Bella only intrigued me so much because I had had no sex for a few weeks. It was one of the longest dry spells I had ever encountered. That was sure to make anyone delusional, right? I also wondered if there was any truth to the phrase 'use it or lose it.' I really hoped I did not have to find out, as I was rather fond of that part of me.
Little did I know that the interactions after that first two only made things worse for me.
Forty-six hours and twenty-three minutes after I first laid eyes on Bella (not that I had been counting, or that I remembered exactly how long it had been. Fuck, I'm pathetic.) I bumped into her. Literally. Grabbing her waist to steady her, I couldn't help but start to visualize more accurately the body hidden beneath her habit. She blushed a deep shade of crimson and quickly scurried away before I could talk to her. I immediately returned to my room to take care of the rather large problem beneath my robes, cursing myself once again for being so effected by a single woman.
I hoped my four-day trip away from the Vatican would bring me some relief. I was fortunate enough to slip away every night, dressed in normal clothes no one recognized me. Unfortunately however, each woman I encountered held little appeal to me and left me even more unsatisfied after a romp in bed. I had developed an itch that could only be scratched by one woman, and with this realization I became determined to have her.
I put my plan into action immediately upon my return. With a little bribing (ok so maybe I just smiled and winked at the Abbess, that dirty old hag) I was able to have her duties switched from cleaning and keeping the museums in order to cleaning my office and bed chamber as well as bringing me my supper every night. Unfortunately for me, during the first week of her new duties she always managed to complete her tasks when I was occupied with my papal duties. I hadn't even seen as much as a glimpse of her since our little encounter before my trip and I knew if I didn't see her soon and lure her into my bed so I could rid myself of my near obsession of her, I would very likely crack. As if I hadn't already.
With that in mind, I had been sure to clear my evening schedule so I could be present in my office when she delivered my supper. I had barely settled into my plush office chair after returning from my final task of the day when Bella bustled in with a tray laden with my meal. She gave a small squeak of surprise upon seeing me, out of my papal robes and in common dress, and a blush quickly tinged her cheeks my favorite shade of pink. I smiled warmly at her and was rewarded with a small, shy smile. I would have to take this slow (well slow for my normal standards, I wasn't that patient) in order to be successful, but my powers of seduction had yet to fail me.
"Dine with me." My request came off slightly more as a command, but I knew it was more likely to get her to stay. I couldn't work my magic if she fled immediately after delivering my meal.
That thought was strangely unnerving. Woman had never fled from me before. I am Edward fucking 'Casanova' Cullen after all. I am the man. Or at least I was, before my balls ran away and I became completely enraptured with the woman in front of me.
"Oh, I don't know if I can, Your Holiness. I need to-" I cut her off before she could continue or launch into another long ramble. Not that I didn't enjoy her ramble last time, but time was of the essence and I didn't want to lose another moment.
"Call me Edward." The words left my mouth before I could fully process what I was saying. Shit! Your name is supposed to be Carlo, you idiot. I could see the questions in her eyes, but luckily she seemed intrigued by my request and tentatively took a seat.
I divided the meal between us and poured us both a decent amount of wine and we ate in silence for several moments before I asked her the question I had been dying to ask her since I first became aware of her existence that afternoon in the confession booth (well the question society would deem appropriate for dinner conversation that is).
"What possessed you to become a nun, Sister Isabella?"
"If…If I am to call you Edward, than I request that you call me Bella." Her wavering voice gave away her nervousness, but god did the way she said my name sound good.
"All right, Bella," I was rewarded with another small smile, "why did you become a nun?"
"Well I have a very over protective father and after he caught me rolling in the hay with his friend's son, he sent me to a convent." I nearly choked on my wine. Images of her spread out on a blanket of hay, naked and waiting, flashed through my mind. Her pale skin would stand out nicely against the yellow of the straw. I quickly downed the remainder of my wine in order to suppress a groan. I highly doubted her idea of rolling in the hay and mine were the same. Although I would file that one away for future use. Yes, I could see it becoming very handy indeed.
Bella continued talking throughout my momentary fantasy, oblivious of the effect her words had on me.
"And I think that is why I am so unhappy; I didn't choose this life for myself. The sad thing is that I feel bad about not wanting to do such honorable work, but I just don't care." She didn't care about feeling bad? Oh how many ways there are that I can make her feel bad. I wonder if she would be opposed to…
She continued talking, once again effectively cutting off my fantasy, as she put our empty dishes back on the dinner tray and settled back into her chair.
"Oh, and I got a cat! The Abbess said it was ok, so I found a stray outside the walls and brought him back here. He has already caught several rats, so I thank you for the suggestion. It really is nice to have him around. I gave him the name of Puss E. Cat, not very original but I do enjoy a play on words. He is so soft and so small, I really could just stroke my little pussy all day." Shit. Did she just say…? Shit! That was it. Her last words had done me in. No. More. Waiting.
She fell silent as I slowly stalked around the desk, my eyes boring into hers. I could see the apprehension there, but she remained rooted in place like a lamb frozen in fear of the hungry lion. I was an efficient hunter, but I never took what wasn't willingly given, although it shouldn't be too hard to turn her fear into desire. She was completely still, that is until I reached up to remove her veil and coif.
"What are you doing?" Her voice wavered, but for once her nervousness didn't cause her to stutter. That had to be promising.
"Shhh, I just want to see you. Beauty like yours shouldn't be covered up." I used my most soothing voice; one a person would use to assuage the fears of a frightened child, hoping it would calm her nerves. After gently pulling the offending garments from her head, I began running my fingers slowly through her silken hair, being sure to lightly brush her neck with every stroke.
"Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?" Her breathing picked up slightly. I dropped my voice down to a whisper and leaned in to speak directly into her ear.
"Because you are the most stunning woman I have ever seen." For once, I was sincere as the words I had spoken many times rolled off my tongue. Bella truly had no equal.
She shivered slightly, and exhaled a breath I hadn't realized she was holding. Pulling back a fraction, my eyes found hers once more. Gone was the worry, and in its place was a slightly glassy-eyed expression that made me well with pride. Oh, I was one smooth son of a bitch. My eyes darted down to her luscious pink lips for a brief moment, causing her eyes to widen slightly, and for her pink tongue to dart out and unconsciously lick slightly pouty lips. One of my hands gently clasped hers, my thumb rubbing soothing circles across the smooth skin of her hand.
"Bella," I breathed, leaning in slightly and keeping my eyes locked with hers. They gave me all the permission I needed, and I closed the distance lightly brushing my lips against hers. Her eyes fluttered shut and she let out a soft sigh, leaning towards me as I pressed my lips a little more firmly into hers.
The kiss was hesitant, gentle. Much different than my normal style, but I knew any more would be pushing her too fast. We touched only at our mouths, and at the hand I still held in mine. But it was the touch of lips that held precedence. I rubbed my lips lightly on hers; learning their soft, warm texture. For once I didn't press and I didn't force. I just savored.
Her response was slow to come but I felt the tightened grip of her hand, the slight tilt of her head backwards to accommodate me. The silent encouragement had me raising my unfettered hand to the back of her neck, cupping the soft skin. It wasn't until I heard the barely audible moan coming from Bella that I began being slightly more aggressive.
Brushing my tongue across her lips, I was surprised when her mouth immediately opened. I continued the slow, languid pace I had set, letting my tongue tangle with hers, enjoying the electricity racing through me from where our lips were connected.
Her second moan, slightly louder than the first, set my hands roving down her body, feeling her soft curves underneath the layers of fabric, while my mind calculated how to best remove them. Her arms wound their way around my neck, her fingers sliding through my hair, eliciting a small groan of my own.
My hands made their way to the woolen belt around her waist, removing it quickly in one deft motion. Bella stiffened slightly, and I immediately turned my attention to her neck, trailing soft kisses down and back up again, nipping at the pale, delicious flesh every so often. Her head fell to the side; giving me better access as I trailed kisses down her neck once more. At the base of her neck, I pulled her habit as far down and to the side as it would go, continuing my trail of kisses along parts of her now exposed collarbone.
Her hands tugged at my hair, pulling my lips back up to hers, and she kissed me with a newfound vigor. My arms wrapped tightly around her lower back pulling her flush against me, my erection pushing into her belly. She let out another moan at the contact, and shifted against me instinctively. My lust filled mind barely registered this reaction, but damn did it feel good.
My hands roamed down her sides as low as they would go, grabbing a handful of her habit in each. Pulling back slightly, I almost chuckled at the annoyed grunt she gave at the loss of contact. Drawing my hands slowly up, my eyes searched hers for protest. Fear clouded her eyes for a moment and I froze, my eyes still boring into her. Waiting. Testing. Pleading. I would beg out loud if I had to; I was too far-gone to care if that made me pathetic.
The moment her desire won out over her fear, her arms raised above her head, and I slipped her habit off. A blush flamed her cheeks the minute our eyes came in contact again, after mine had swept over her body now clad only in her chemise and underskirts. Giving her a moment to collect herself, I bent down to slip off my shoes and stalkings and un-tuck my tunic. The rustling of fabric caused my eyes to dart back to Bella, who had followed my example and removed her own shoes and had her hands at the tie of her skirts. I gazed at her hungrily as the fabric dropped to the floor, and didn't waste any more time as I closed the small distance between us at attached my lips to hers.
My hands automatically found their way back to her waist, grazing over hips now only clad in a thin layer of wool. She gasped in surprise when I lifted her up and set her on the edge my desk. I was suddenly thankful I didn't keep much on it because I rather liked the image of her on my desk. Rather liked, that would be the understatement of the century.
She tensed minutely when I pulled my tunic over my head. I smirked at the blush tingeing her cheeks as her eyes roamed over my chest. Oh yes, do look Isabella. Look and touch and enjoy.
Moving forward, I rested my hips lightly against her knees as my hands settled on her legs. Rubbing light circles on the back of her calves, I brought my lips back to the delicate skin of her neck, teasing her with my lips and teeth. She relaxed even more under my touch, even as my hands trailed higher up her legs.
Before she could protest, I pulled the chemise over her head, exposing her glorious body fully to me. She blushed an incredibly dark shade and immediately tried to cover herself up.
"Don't," I spoke softly, reverently. My words brought her eyes to mine, and as the blush slowly faded from her cheeks, her arms dropped to her side. My eyes roamed her body quickly, my impatience and painful erection in my pants not allowing me to take the time to truly study her, not that I needed too. My quick assessment confirmed my fantasies; she really was perfect.
Hungrily my lips attacked hers, my hands ghosting down the smooth skin of her back, over her hips and down to her knees. I gently spread her legs apart before stepping into them, bringing our bare chests together. We both groaned simultaneously at the contact, and I knew I couldn't wait much longer.
I re-directed my lips to her neck, and trailed another line of kisses down to her collarbone. My hands ran up her arms to her shoulders, pushing back gently, coaxing her to lie back. Leaning over her, my lips continued their path down her collarbone and in a direct path to one of her breasts. I only spent a moment kissing and teasing her tender skin with my mouth and hand before the other one of my hands trailed a path down her belly. The muscles in her stomach tensed as my hand trailed lower, but my increased attention to her sensitive nipples immediately elicited another moan and she relaxed. My fingers danced across her sensitive bundle of nerves before dipping down lower, lightly teasing the sensitive flesh. I groaned at her wetness, my cock throbbing painfully.
No. More. Waiting.
My pants quickly joined the pile of clothing on the floor. My lips met her eager ones as I once again positioned myself between her legs, bracing myself with my arms as I leaned over her body. The tip of my throbbing dick unerringly found the moist entrance to her body. All at once I felt an all encompassing pleasure and pain. I needed to be inside. Now. Now, now, now. With a quick, hard twitch of my hips, I was embedded fully inside her warmth, groaning loudly at the sensation.
I quickly regretted the swift movement as pain flashed across her face and her whole body tightened. With my last bit of self-control, I managed to keep my hips still, and focus my attention once more one her breasts. A few agonizing minutes later, I felt the tension leave her body. An experimental gentle thrust with my hips caused Bella to moan softly, and with that sound, my remaining control slipped away, and I lost myself in the warmth of her body.
Free to move, though my control was completely shattered, I withdrew and swiftly thrust back in, my path made easy by her slick secretions. Out and in. Out and in. The pattern repeated several times until I knew I was dangling on a precipice, her increasingly louder moans only bringing me to the edge faster. Was there anything about this woman that didn't drive me crazy?
My hand slipped between our bodies. Sliding through her soft curls, I found the pulsing point of her pleasure. I wanted her to join me in release, although I knew it was doubtful. I was skilled and had given virgins orgasms their first time before, but that was a rarity, a rarity that I desperately wanted for her.
Timing the move, I drove back into her scorching heat and pinched her clit.
"Bella," I groaned against her shoulder, my orgasm racing through me. I barely felt her nails digging into my back as she followed me over the edge, finding her own release, moaning my name.
My eyes slowly focused back into hers as she gazed back at me under hooded lids with a small smile on her face, both of us breathing heavily. As I found myself getting lost in the depths of her beautiful eyes, the realization the Bella wasn't just an itch I needed to scratch washed over me.
A/N: I hope you enjoyed Popeward. Feedback is greatly appreciated (and very much enjoyed) and if you enjoyed this and are so inclined to want to vote for it, then please add it to your alerts and I will let you know when voting begins.