All main characters belong to Stephanie Meyer, I just enjoy their company.
xx / \ xx
The alarm rang harsh and loud. I stirred unwillingly from the best sleep I'd had in weeks, groaning and automatically reaching my arms out into the space beside me, searching for a warm body. When
I found nothing but empty space, I quickly settled for his still warm pillow, pulling it close and curling into it. I buried my face in it, inhaling his scent.
"No, Jas, don't go back to sleep" he coaxed, chuckling when I muttered back bitterly.
Prying my eyes open, I found him getting dressed, his disheveled hair brushing back with the movement as he pulled on a sweater. I stretched out, intent on staying put for as long as possible as he finished buckling his belt and sat back on the bed with his back against the headboard and his ankles crossed. I let my eyes flutter closed again as his long fingers got lost in the waves of my hair. Using the moments he was giving me to gather myself and psych myself up for the morning that would surely unfold, an uninterrupted half hour in the company of a father I had yet to meet. His close proximity prevented a full blown melt down and instead of breaking a sweat and hyperventilating, panicking and bailing out on him all together I simply sighed and let my mind drift to something safer like what I would wear…Wait what would I wear?
"I forgot clothes."
He smiled down at me sleepily. "Never thought you'd make it this far, huh?"
I twisted my lips nervously and let my eyebrows knit together. "Sorry, I guess not."
"It's okay, I believed enough for both of us," he whispered reverently, leaning forward to brush his lips across my forehead before resting his nose against me and breathing in a deep, steady rhythm.
"Are you asleep?" I whispered back when he still hadn't moved a few minutes later.
His frame shook slightly as he chuckled. "No, just giving you a minute."
"My point was what am I going to wear?"
"Hmm, fortunately I believed enough to bring you spare clothes," he smirked.
"You brought me clothes?" I asked, eyes wide in surprise.
"I keep wondering when you will get used to that." I blinked at him wondering if I'd heard him correctly, feeling the intensity behind his words. "What happened to you," he muttered to himself, more a statement of wonder than a question to be answered.
I wasn't ready to tell him, he knew that much, but the curiosity was there and if I wanted forever, I would have to offer something real.
xx / \ xx
I approached them nervously as they stood side by side, intimately close but not touching. Regardless of the progress from the night before, talking to Esme in the harsh light of day would be hard to handle, not to mention his father who I had yet to be introduced to. He smiled affectionately toward Edward and then turned to me. It wasn't a cold look, but it certainly lacked warmth, and I shuddered in response.
"Your an art teacher," he stated more than asked.
I nodded and confirmed anyway, coughing and finding my voice when he raised his eyebrow, not taking that as a suitable reply. "Yes."
He raised his eyebrow again. Apparently that wasn't enough either.
"University?"
"Yes, sir," I tried that time, hoping that was what was lacking previously. "UCC."
As he openly sized me up, I took in and held a deep breath while I waited for his verdict. I let my eyes fall to stare at my feet, anxious for what was sure to come.
The silence dragged and I started to panic, unnerved that I was being received so poorly. They loved him like a son, I knew I would have to work hard to please them but I'd hardly had a chance. The problem was he loved them like parents, and if I didn't have the full love and approval of all three family members, I was sure to lose him.
A chime like laugh brought me out of my thoughts and I looked to see Esme as I tried to work out why she was so amused. Finding that her gaze was elsewhere, I followed it and came to rest back on her husband's face. The corner of his lip twitched back and forth as he tried to suppress his laughter.
"Don't play with him, it isn't funny," she said, her small giggles betraying her words.
I risked looking Carlisle in the eyes and was surprised by the familiar mischievous glint I often saw in Edward's, if I didn't know better I would swear it ran in the family.
"Nice to meet you Jasper."
Movement caught my eye and I followed it to his outstretched arm, cautiously taking his hand in mine as the moment of realisation caught up to me.
"Take a seat," he said, motioning his other hand toward the dining table.
I turned and found Edward standing there, his hands gripped around the chair he had pulled out for me to sit in. My face heated up at the chivalrous gesture and it became apparent that the blush had tainted my cheek when he quickly stroked it with his fingertip.
I sat watching Esme finish serving dinner while her husband helped, moving seamless around the kitchen preparing what looked to be a huge breakfast. My temperature began to rise at the prospect of having to eat a whole meal, a whole meal of fried food, and being watched while I did so. These weren't my parents, I had no idea how to work them, no idea how observant they were. The bonus was they barely knew me, they wouldn't notice my behaviour as out of character, I had that working in my favour. I could ask question after question and they wouldn't know how rarely I spoke when I didn't have something specific to say.
It was too late to feign illness, I was already there, and from watching the way Esme lovingly took care of Edward and Carlisle, she wouldn't let me get away with not eating. Not to mention how rude that seemed given the time she put in to cooking it.
To calm myself, I closed my eyes and counted my blessings. I let my mind wander, the smells of the kitchen and the hard-backed dining room chair enabling the vague memories of breakfasts I had encountered before.
xx / \ xx
I climbed up onto the high stool, waiting patiently for my breakfast. The all too familiar rumblings of hunger quickly turned to dread and my stomach churned at the sight of the meal that was clattered onto the table in front of me. I looked up in disbelief at the cruel grin playing at my father's lips, searching for a sign that this was a joke. When I found no such sign on my father's face, I turned to my mother, who looked distantly out of the kitchen window at the neighbours passing by.
Left unrefrigerated, the stench had intensified, the bacon had curled and hardened, the liver had formed a layer of white fat across its surface and the semi-mashed potatoes visible lumps had dried out.
The first tear rolled down my face, the ultimate sign of weakness. A sharp slap knocked me back and I grimaced, lifting my fork in submission. I forced my taste buds to listen to the fantasy I'd played out a hundred times before, of the food I'd seen advertised through living rooms windows on my paper route. Crispy chicken I murmured to myself as I took the first bite. Steamed vegetables I promised my stomach as I swallowed. Not knowing when my next chance would come, I would eat every bite.
xx / \ xx
Edward cleared his throat, tightening his grip on my hand, and my thoughts were pulled back into the room. Shaking, I wiped the back of my hand over my forehead and straightened my clothes while breakfast was served in front of me, the plate now overflowing with hot eggs, sausages and bacon.
"Thank you," I said simply, pleased when she returned the gesture with a warm smile.
The room stilled and I sealed my eyes closed again in the pause, assuming they were waiting to say grace. Waiting for the guilt and the pain laced thick in the air as the precursor to every family meal I'd encountered.
When it didn't come, I snapped my eyes open, finding them all busying themselves, opening napkins or newspapers, or pouring orange juice into tumblers. Grace was not something that took place in this house. I relaxed and sat waiting.
They started to eat and I started my routine, praying it would slip their notice.
"Have you lived here long?" I asked the first of many questions to come. As they spoke, I sliced into the Quorn sausages, cutting it into small chunks, scooping into the eggs next and piling them onto my fork. I brought the food to my mouth and then cut myself off. "The stained glass windows are beautiful, are they an original feature?" I continued, bringing the fork back to my plate, still loaded with food and pushing it back onto the plate, smiling to myself despite the nerves when they answered my questions without suspicion or hesitation.
I prepared another forkful and started again, no food passing my lips. When everybody else seemed to be finishing up, I clutched at my stomach, expressing how full I was and thanking them for a lovely meal. Placing my napkin over the shredded, uneaten food and offering to clear up, I swiftly removed my plate from the table before I could be discouraged.
Edward joined me in the kitchen, eyeing me warily before kissing my temple and drying the pots as I washed them. Occasionally he would catch my eye as we worked together, flashing me his crooked smile, silently telling me how proud he was of me for coming at all, for taking a step out of my comfort zone for him.
We left shortly after, saying how pleased we were to have finally met and how we hoped to see each other soon before making our way back out to our separate cars.
"Your coat," Esme called out.
I walked back toward the doorway, already feeling the chill that October brought with it. "Thank you, always leaving this behind," I said as I slid my arms into the sleeves and fiddled with the buttons.
She batted my hands away and fastened it for me. Brushing imaginary flint from my shoulders and biting her lip as if to stop unfortunate words from slipping past them. "You look after yourself, stay warm and ...fed," she stumbled over the last word and looked up into my eyes apologetically.
I'd expected to feel fear, to feel sick and scared that I'd been found out, but contrary to all those things I just felt loved. It presented itself as ache in my chest, but I knew now that it was love. To have been noticed, for somebody to have recognized my pain, though it might not be my own mother, the person I craved this love from, it was Edward's and that was enough because I was simply his.
I watched the blur pass me on either side of the road, surprised at the brightness of the sun at each gap in the trees. The ride home wasn't a long one but it was long enough to leave me thinking. I fiddled with the dial on the radio and landed on a song that let the memories bleed through. Meeting his parents was a first and it led me to think about all our other firsts, to our very first, first, to the day we met.
xx / \ xx
"You live here?" I asked, gazing up in awe at the white two-story house and manicured lawn straight from a fairy-tale, not bothering to hide the desire in my eyes.
She turned her head back to look at me and flashed me a grin while her hands fumbled with the key.
"He lives here, I live with him. Temporarily that is, until he comes to his senses and notices how one sided the deal is."
"…and you're not together?" I asked, the word deal not escaping my attention. She bit her lip and I filled in the silence. "Oh, you are together, but casually."
She rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Jasper, you think you're so perceptive. No, we're not together. I'm not exactly …his type."
I gave her a once over, taking in her long, red hair, porcelain skin and toned body and wondered how she could escape being any man's type.
"But Jenny your…" I started, but stopped when I caught her wink.
"I know right?" She grinned back, comically flicking her hair, telling me she didn't need a confidence boost while opening the door and stepping inside.
I patiently stood behind her while she bent to slip her heels from her feet. Following suit and shedding my trainers when I caught sight of the plush white carpets leading to the main room.
I wandered around the house, idly touching the furniture as I passed through. A flash of blue caught my eye and I had difficulty suppressing the warm smile of familiarity that passed through me. Above the mantle was a large printed canvas of my favourite work.
"Starry night," I murmured to myself, my arm automatically outstretching as if to stroke it.
"Drink?" she asked from the kitchen. I half turned to the doorway she was leaning around holding a bottle of lemonade. "It's flat, just how you like it," she added in her sing song voice tempting me further.
I nodded my reply and continued around the living room, unashamedly snooping through their things, most of which I imagined weren't hers. I poked my head around the next door and couldn't contain my curiosity. I walked uninvited into a room that was most certainly not Jenny's. A beautiful Vintage America fender and piano sat side by side, cradling each other in their shared musical silence.
Running my finger along the keys, I leaned forward and played with one hand the only song I could remember. Music lessons were never something that stuck. It wasn't that I didn't try or that I didn't want to, I just didn't see the world as music notes like some did, in my eyes everything was a brush stroke and the world was a canvas. Music was not something I could read, I remembered how to play only from the image I had stored of my elderly piano teacher's fingers stroking the keys.
"Hello, sweetie," I heard Jenny call again from the kitchen, but not loud enough for it to be directed at me.
When I heard the front door click as it closed and I snatched my fingers away from the piano as if they had been burnt, praying I made it to the door in time. Pulling the music room door silently behind me, I swiftly moved toward the kitchen hoping to sneak back in unnoticed and hide behind the drink she'd made for me.
"I thought I'd make stir fry for dinner ton-" he said in the thickest London accent I'd heard to date.
With my focus on the velvety tones in his voice, I almost didn't notice the way he'd dropped his sentence as I slipped into the room.
With no prior warning from Jenny at the beauty I would find there, I looked up at him for the first time
All I knew was that he had some money and she was taking advantage. I had no idea how securely I would have to safeguard my heart from the very first glance.
The first thing I noticed was his height. It was hard to miss as he filled the room, standing at least 6"2 with a shock of messy bronze hair extending his height a few centimeters further. The second thing that drew me in was his face, the way all his features, while so odd, all grouped together to form something so godly in appearance. From the pale skin and emerald eyes to the dark shadows below them and straight nose between them, down to his full lips, the bottom lip jutting out and hanging open as if he was going to add something more about the evening meal. He snapped them shut as my eyes fell on them, revealing the kind of strong jawline you never saw in real life.
I'd noted all that within a few seconds and still had time to catch the way he stumbled when he caught sight of me, leaving me open to react to it, my body's automatic reaction always being a blush. I turned toward Jenny and took the glass she held out to me, peaking out of my wavy hair for a few seconds to ensure her smug smile was firmly in its place before I scowled back.
The moment we'd shared wasn't lost on me, I'd felt the intensity behind his eyes as they flickered over me and the rising of my own pulse and temperature. Words played over and over in my mind until they were no longer a question, but a confirmation of the hanging of his bottom lip. Jenny's words from merely 20 minutes ago, 'I'm not exactly …his type.'
I caught her eye and winked, turning back to him and giving him my best smile, dimples in place.
"Hi, I'm Jasper," I beamed, my arm outstretched to shake his.
xx / \ xx
Having set off a few minutes prior to me, Edward arrived home before me, but hadn't entered the house yet. Instead, he leaned against the door, the flat of his left foot resting against it, making him look totally at ease.
"Comfortable?" I asked as I vacated the car, squinting at him under the glare of the sun.
His skin looked beautiful in the light, brilliant white, almost luminescent. He didn't answer but his lip curled up at the comment.
"Thank you for meeting my parents, I know that wasn't easy," he said as I walked toward him and he took my hands in his.
I looked down at the foot that planted on the floor and watched as the other one joined it.
"Okay," I mumbled back shortly.
His hand left mine, but didn't lose contact with me for long, reaching to tilt my chin up, my eyes losing their fixed point on the ground and cautiously travelling to meet his. Hoping I wasn't misinterpreting the look in them, I breached the space between us and pressed my lips to his roughly. He responded to it immediately, brushing my hair back and grasping the side of my head to gain his angle. His soft lips molded with mine over and over while his hands roamed freely, unashamedly groping my ass.
"We need to," he managed between kisses, "get inside"
Skillfully, he turned the lock and then leaned on the handle with his elbow, his other hand never leaving my ass. He ushered me inside, pulling us back against it to close it.
"Wall?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows and pushing me into it. I laughed and shook my head. "Floor?" he murmured, breathing the word against my neck, his playfulness replaced with desperation.
He ground his cock into mine when he recognized the affirmative tone in my answering moan and curled a strong hand around the back of my knee, pulling my legs out from under me and laying me on my back. Wrapping my legs around him, I pulled him close. His mouth found mine again, his tongue pushing into my mouth to stroke mine, encouraging each buck of my hips. He slipped his fingers between the mesh of grinding hips to flip the button on my pants through the loop and tug down the zip. With some effort I let him go, giving him room to pull off my jeans. Skipping formalities, bending my knees back and spreading my legs he dipped his head, his mouth finding my entrance. He flicked and probed while I fumbled for the jeans he'd cast off in search of the lube and condoms in the back pocket.
Sensing my extended hand, he blindly grabbed the sachets from me, reaching for his own dick and pulling it above the waistband of his pants. Once he'd expertly stretched the thin layer over himself, he generously coated it with lube, wasting no time before pushing into me. The reactive groan was unanimous, it was wanton and needy, a request for more, and he didn't hesitate in giving it. Quickly finding a rhythm our body's both agreed on, he fucked me unrepentantly with one hand protecting my head from the cool tiled floor and the other stroking my dick to the beat of his thrust. I held him to me firmly, one hand entwined in his dark hair as he laced my neck with tender kisses, a stark contrast to the snap of his hips. The other gripped his ass, further arousing me by the feel of the muscles clenching as he filled me.
Before I could warn him I was coming, I was coating the space between us with warm semen in short bursts. My body shook with finality and in a gasping breath, his followed, filling me with his essence. His forehead pressed to my chest briefly while he gathered himself. Shaking off the lingering effects of his orgasm, he pulled out, kissing me as he moved before breaking free and rolling onto his back, still panting heavily.
It was a few minutes before either of his broke the relaxing still of silence.
"Dry clean only," he sighed, pulling the hem of his shirt away from his body to inspect the garment. There was an intense pause while I studied him, nervous of his reaction before he laughed, full and hearty, eyes light and free of the darkness I'd grown accustomed to.
xx / \ xx
Even after a few hours of sleep, my entire body was still sated as I stepped outside the door of his house. Pulling up the collar of coat, I waited as he fiddled with the scarf around my neck and placed a kiss on my forehead. The brisk air was already trying to seep through my clothes, but the second his hand took mine, the cold seemed to fade.
"Where are we going?" I asked as he led me up the long driveway to the sidewalk.
It was almost midnight, most people were tucked into their bed, warm and comfortable, and we were taking a walk.
"Just to get some fresh air, house is beginning to smell a bit too much like sex," he chuckled.
"And that's a bad thing?" I teased, gently leaning against him.
"Not at all," he smiled crookedly. "But the fresh air will do us good, besides, what's more romantic than a walk in the snow?"
"A warm bed," I countered with a smirk.
It really didn't matter where I was as long as he was next to me. We fell into the silence we always did, the one I cherished, the one that allowed me to be as quiet or as talkative as I wanted. He was the first person I'd ever met that didn't expect conversation. He enjoyed the quiet as much as I did. Our booted feet crunched in the layer of newly fallen snow. Looking up, the black sky was dotted with the flakes falling lightly, but steadily. They quickly gathered on my eyelashes and glancing up at Edward, I saw the snow sprinkled on his hair, contrasting its warm bronze. Dressed in his jeans and boots and a long coat, his stride was long, almost twice mine, but it was easy, relaxed, and he shortened so our steps were almost perfectly timed.
Walking next to Edward was always so much more than the simple act of walking. Each time a car passed, its headlights sliding over us, my heart swelled with a warmth. It might have seemed foolish, but being seen with him by others, even for those brief seconds they drove by, made me feel special. Out of all the men he could have had chosen, he'd picked me. I tightened my grip on his gloved hand and he returned the squeeze. He knew exactly how being seen with him made me feel.
The snow continued to fall and we continued to walk. The inches built up on the concrete, and Edward was sure to lead me around any patches that might be icy with a sure arm around my waist. He sang softly a few times, different verses of holiday songs, letting his silky voice float in the air with the flakes.
I don't know how long or how far we walked, but we reached a field guarded by a small rock wall. There was an arched opening and Edward motioned toward it. Following him anywhere, we walked under the iron trellis and into a graveyard.
I almost laughed. Leave it to us to wander into a graveyard on our romantic walk. The snow seemed deeper, piling on the top of curved tombstones and flat polished memorials. Holiday wreaths, twinkle lights and even some candles decorated some of the stones, showing loved ones had recently visited. Small flames flickered as we walked by and I wondered how they remained lit in the snow. I had to admit, the subtle lighting gave the cemetery a romantic feel.
It was quieter in there, no sounds of people in their homes or passing cars. It was silent except for the falling snow and our footsteps. We ambled up and down a few rows, Edward commenting on the names engraved on some of the stones, his unique sense of humour in a place reserved for the somber enticing a few chuckles from me. Our hands never parted, even when we came to a bench on the pathway. The wood was weathered from years of snow and rain, the iron rusted in spots, but it was sturdy and a place to rest.
Edward reached down, brushing the snow from the seat before sitting and pulling me down with him. Tucking my body into his side, he draped and arm around my shoulders and I curled my knees up and leaned them against his lap. His large hand sat on my knee, his thumb stroking soothing circles. Snuggling me closer, he rested his head against mine.
I looked around at the gravestones, and couldn't help but be reminded of my sister. It hadn't been that long ago I'd been standing at her funeral watching her casket be lowered into the ground. Edward sensed a shift in the air and pulled me closer.
"Do you miss her?"
He knew she was gone, he knew how, but other than the basic facts on how my beautiful little girl had ended up in my custody, I'd not spoken much about Rosalie.
"Yeah, I do," I admitted quietly.
"But that's not why you're sad," he continued.
I'd never known anyone who could, or even wanted, to read me like he did. Every move I made, even those I didn't, spoke volumes to him. He caught every flinch and wince, every sigh and tense muscle. Sometimes I wondered why he bothered to ask the questions when he seemed to already know the answers. I gave him a weak smile, one I barely managed on a good day, in response.
"Are you lonely?" he hedged.
I had my daughter, she was the light of my life, but she was a baby, she couldn't possibly understand the stress I felt. I had a flatmate who was a good friend, but I didn't bother him with my problems. It wasn't until Edward that I felt I had someone I could be honest with. I wasn't lonely with him, but when we were apart, my heart ached with an emptiness, a void only filled by being in his presence.
"Yeah," I answered honestly.
"You're not alone," he reminded me.
He meant it. Even when I returned to Ireland, even when there were many miles between us, he would be just a phone call away. Turning, I pressed my lips to him, moaning when his tongue ran along the seam of my lips and he edged my jaw open. Any cold I had felt quickly dispersed and my body flared with the spark only he ignited. Before my cock hardened further, I broke the kiss and gave him a shy smile.
Silence enveloped us once again and I leaned into his solid form. The snow landed us, the individually designed flakes decorating our jeans. I would let some clump together, studying them before brushing them away.
"Do you think you will come back over?" he murmured into my hair.
Even though we'd talked on the phone nightly, it was only the second time we'd seen each other in person. I wanted nothing more than to return to him as soon as possible but between lack of money and my work, I wasn't sure when, or if, I could get back.
"Is that an invitation?" I asked hopefully.
Brushing my hair back from my temple, he coaxed my eyes to his and nodded. I tilted my head back, waiting for his soft lips to meet mine, his tongue to push inside. My entire body instantly flooded with the heat he created and filled me with. With a soft moan, he straightened and snuggled me closer.
"What if there's someone else?" I whispered.
There wouldn't be for me, I didn't think there ever would be after meeting him, but I couldn't ask him to wait for me to return, not when neither of us knew when that would be.
"There won't be for me, I'm in love with you," he replied softly and without hesitation.
The candle nearest us flickered, and then blew out at his confession. The words weren't new to me, but the intensity behind them did not go unnoticed. Although it was early in the relationship, I was in undoubtedly in love with him too. My heart skipped several beats and I trembled. I'd heard those words before but I'd never understood the meaning behind them romantically until Edward.
"But," I began with a sigh, "I don't know when I will be able to come back again. I don't want to trap you in this."
It was only fair to be honest with him, to let him go and not let him waste time waiting for me. It was his turn to sigh, and even though I'd only heard it a few times, I already knew what it meant. Putting his fingers under my chin, he forced me to look at him.
"Do I look trapped to you?"
There was a seriousness to his voice, yet it was full of the same love he'd laced his admission with. I gazed into his green eyes, searching for the answer to his question. The facets sparkled in the candle light, a serenity in them I'd not seen before. There was no frown on his face, no wrinkles of doubt or lines of confusion. He did not wear the face of a trapped man. Edward was exactly where he wanted to be, and I knew it.
Instead of answering his question, I cupped his cheek and drew his lips to mine in a lingering kiss. Soft passes of lips soon became needy nips and moans for more. My hand moved to his coat, clutching the collar to pull him closer. Instead of shifting toward me, his strong hands easily lifted me to his lap to straddle him. As my hands found his hair, tangling in the short tuffs of silk, his went to under my coat and shirt, skimming possessively along my lower back before easing up my sides and enticing a throaty groan from him that reverberated through us both. Circling my hips, I grinded my ass onto him and pressed our cocks together. Blunt nails burrowed into my flesh in response, his breaths as labored as mine when I pulled back, our lips barely touching. One hand moved to my hips, not to still them but to press me to him harder, the friction not nearly enough for either of us. He gazed at me with half-lidded lusty eyes, his lips swollen from our kisses. I didn't think about stopping or that we were in public, I only knew I wanted him in me when I felt his cock throbbing against my own.
"Fuck me," I murmured, my forehead against his.
His shiny lips turned down a slight frown of disappointment. "I have no lube," he admitted. Groaning in frustration, I snapped my hips forward and tugged on his hair. "Fuck it," he growled.
Before I felt the cold air on my skin, his deft fingers had my pants undone and were yanking them over my ass. Swiftly he worked them down my legs, even over my shoes, before placing them on the seat. In seconds, my ass was resting on the edge of the bench and he was kneeling between my legs, his hands spreading me as his buried his face. A moan heard by only Edward escaped me when I felt his warm, wet tongue penetrate me. My fingers gripped the damp wood slats and I used what little leverage I had to push against him, silently begging for more. Dipping his tongue in and out, his fingers rubbed and prodded, further working me into a wanton frenzy. Breathless, I watched him, his messed hair and closed eyes as he concentrated. In such dire need of his touch, of him, it didn't seem the slightest bit awkward to having doing something so intimate when in someplace so public.
Edward created enough heat with just his tongue to keep me warm that I'd forgotten about the falling snow until I saw it landing and melting on his cheeks. Lifting his head, his hand skillfully undid his zipper and he pulled his cock through it before quickly adjusting me so I was half lying on the bench. He leaned over me, one knee perched on the seat while and one hand braced on the back of the bench while the other wrapped around my neck to cradle my head. I fisted his jacket, wishing it was his smooth skin instead of abrasive wool. Caught in his rapt stare, I saw his eyes darken just as the head of his cock entered me. Rocking his hips forward, he pushed deeper, groaning at the sensation. I was unaware of everything except for him, the way his hair had fallen onto his forehead, the way his tongue darted out to lick his lips or how he bit them in effort, the amazing way he felt inside me. He quickly fell into a tight rhythm, hard, deep thrusts that I thought would surely loosen the bench from its cement base.
His pace quickened, and his slight shift in position was enough to force me over the edge. My body tensed just as it hit me. Before I could warn him, he slipped from me and bent over, his mouth covering my cock just as it throbbed and released. He swallowed a few times, moaning around me before rising and pushing back inside. My body was still reeling and trembling from the effects of the orgasm when he slammed into me and grunted. Pulling out, he moved up my chest. Looking up at him through my lashes, I opened my mouth, waiting for his taste. His hips bucked, his cock pulsing and emptying on my tongue and lips as his climax rolled through him.
"Mmmm," I moaned, licking every last drop of him from his cock before swallowing.
"Fuck," he whispered, lowering his lips to mine. Wrapping my legs around him, I pulled him on top of me, ignoring the slates poking my back. Our kisses were languid until Edward remembered we weren't truly alone. Taking his lips from mine, he glanced around at the quiet cemetery.
"Think they heard us?" he chuckled.
"You mean did we fuck loud enough to wake the dead?"
Chuckling, he pushed himself off me and put his dick back inside his pants before zipping them up. Snaking an arm under my waist, Edward lifted me and grabbed my pants. I sat up and tugged them on, but his hands replaced mine to button them. Edward stood, his hands pulling me off the bench to him. His lips grazed mine one last time before we started walking, our footsteps from earlier already coated by snow.
"You take me to the most romantic places," I smiled.
"How else will I be sure you return," he reasoned with a shrug.
Hand in hand, we walked down the path, the leafless trees lining it, the only witnesses to our love making, promising to keep our secret.
xx / \ xx
A/N This project has been on the shelf for awhile and only got picked back up yesterday so thanks to touchstone for the quick turn around, I implore you to shower her with praise in the comments section.
Check out the blog she shares with my boyfriend at touchstonescales DOT blog DOT com/
Thanks for all the comments on the last chapter, it meant a lot to me!