Notes: Huge thanks to Sally for her always-impressive beta skills.
And thanks to all of you for your eager and enthusiastic reviews. We've enjoyed reading them all and are very excited to present the final portion of Assward and Tartella's story.
~Chapter 4~
Weeks after Emmett and Rosalie's party, Bella still feels conflicted over the way things transpired between her and Edward. Her feelings are complicated. She resents the way Edward treated her, and especially that she let him.
The disastrous encounter at the party proved Bella right: pursuing something more with Edward is a mistake. What Bella knows intellectually and what she feels in her heart, however, are two very different things.
A part of Bella misses him. She misses the charged sexual tension she felt with Edward. Even more, she misses the connection she felt with him. She wants to talk more with Edward, to get to know him as a person. She longs for his arms around her and the sweetness of his lips on hers.
After playing phone tag for a week, Rosalie and Bella agree to meet for lunch. They've gone out together a few times in the past and have developed a tentative friendship. They are seated at a table with salads and glasses of wine in front of them, when the blonde levels a searching look at Bella. "May I be blunt with you?"
Bella blinks in surprise and nods. "Of course."
"You're a fool."
"Excuse me?"
"Why are you and Edward dancing around each other? It's clear you're both more than attracted to each other."
Bella sputters and reaches for her wine. "We're not … I … it wouldn't …" She sighs, and sets her glass down, burying her face in her hands. "Things are complicated."
When Bella lifts her head, Rosalie arches one perfectly manicured brow and shrugs. "Aren't they always?" the blonde asks with a smile.
Bella sighs and takes a slow sip of her wine, her expression growing thoughtful as she ponders what to say. "Do you know why Edward hired me in the first place?" she asks.
"He wanted to be pegged, right?" The blonde shrugs again at Bella's look of surprise. "I've known Edward for years; his interest in pegging is no more of a secret than Emmett and I enjoying the pleasures of voyeurism."
Bella nods; even she knows that about her former boss and his wife. She traces her finger along the white linen tablecloth as she thinks about how to explain things to the woman seated across from her. "I've never had an experience with a client like that before," she says finally.
"In what way?"
"One that was so … intense. We just worked together flawlessly. His cues were so easy for me to read and I've never been more aroused by anyone before ... clients and otherwise," she admits.
"Emmett thought you two might have chemistry."
Bella's lips curve into a smile. "I had a feeling he was up to something."
Rosalie nods in acknowledgement. "Let's put my husband's machinations aside for the moment, though. What is stopping you from seeing Edward?"
"Well, first it was my job."
"Did you quit for him?" Rosalie asks curiously.
Isabella snorts. "No. He didn't ask, and I wouldn't have agreed if he had. Edward did make me realize that if I wanted a relationship with any depth, I would have to wait until I changed careers. So, yes, my experience with Edward made me think about my job differently, but that wasn't the only reason I quit.
"I missed music. Sure, I enjoyed being an escort. I love sex, I love bringing people pleasure; I love helping people fulfill fantasies they've only dared dream about. But I love music more. I love it in my bones, to the depth of my soul. Now that I'm playing again, even just casually as part of teaching, I honestly don't know how I went so many years without it."
Rosalie nods thoughtfully, her respect for Bella increasing. "You knew it was time to quit being an escort. You were ready to move on."
"Yes."
"Then why not go to Edward and tell him?"
"Fear of rejection." Bella laughs sadly at Rosalie's puzzled expression. "Edward makes me feel vulnerable in a way I've never felt before. I worry that he couldn't possibly have feelings for a woman with a past like mine."
The words are barely out of Bella's mouth before the other woman shakes her head. "Not Edward. He doesn't think any less of you for your past career."
"How can you be so sure?"
"I know Edward. I've known him for a long time. It just isn't in him to hate you or degrade you." Rosalie frowns. "I would have never thought you to be the kind of woman who looks down on herself for being an escort, Bella."
Bella sighs and sips her wine. "I don't, Rose. Or, I never did before. That night at your party … we connected again." Bella's cheeks redden at Rosalie's knowing gaze. "Afterward, he looked at me with such a horrified expression … he wouldn't even speak to me."
Rosalie shakes her head firmly. "It wasn't you, Bella; Edward didn't go into detail, but he told me a little bit about what happened. He was horrified with himself. He thinks less of himself for what happened, not you. He was disappointed by what he'd done."
"What part? Letting an escort give him a blowjob in a bathroom?" Bella's voice is thin and bitter. "Because that's what happened and it's pretty clear that's Edward thought less of me for it."
"No. It didn't have a thing to do with what you two did together, Bella. Edward wasn't disappointed in you; he was disappointed in himself for cheating on Angela."
An expression of understanding dawns on Bella's face. It had nothing to do with her, and everything to do with the other woman. "He cares for her that much?" she asks, disappointment tightening her throat.
"No, of course not," Rosalie says, exasperated. "By nature, Edward isn't a cheater; he hates that he made that choice. No matter what kind of relationship Edward has with women, he holds himself to a high standard. He doesn't want to be his father."
Bella raises an eyebrow, but the blonde doesn't elaborate. "Look, just go to him. Be honest with Edward about what you want. Talk to him."
Bella nods slowly. She's still hurt by the way Edward left, but now she has some understanding of his actions. Bella does wants to talk to Edward; she's just unsure that she'll be able to do it. Always strong and confident, Bella doesn't know why this man makes her feel so vulnerable. Why he has gotten so far under her skin.
Rosalie studies the other woman's doubtful expression, then sighs and shifts in her seat. "Has Emmett ever told you my story?"
A smile ghosts across Rosalie's face when the other woman shakes her head no. "Of course he hasn't," she murmurs. She draws a deep breath before she speaks again.
"I was an escort. I didn't have a boss like Emmett. My boss's only goal was to make as much money from his girls as possible. He didn't care if we were roughed up a little, or if the clients weren't clean. He was a pimp in an expensive suit and if one of us was mistreated, oh well, there was always another desperate girl to take her place." Rosalie's voice is soft and bitter. "I won't go into details, but I am sure you can imagine what it was like."
Bella nods in understanding; she's heard more than enough sad stories over the years.
Rosalie smiles grimly. "One night I was at a hotel with a client. He got rough; really rough. When I tried to stop him, he lost it. I was afraid for my life, Bella. I screamed bloody murder. The hotel was low-end, and the staff didn't care what happened behind closed doors as long as a room was paid for. The man in the room next door made someone let him into the room. He found me just in time."
"Emmett?" Bella asks softly.
Rosalie nods, her chin lifting slightly as she continues. "Emmett saved me that night. He took me to the hospital and convinced me to talk to the police and press charges. Of course, the police charged me with prostitution. I … it wasn't my first charge and it was a while before I got out of jail. Emmett was waiting for me when I was released. I was convinced no man could ever care for me or love me after learning what I was, but Emmett did. Emmett is easy to love. It took me a long time, but eventually I learned to trust him, too."
"Is that why he runs his business the way he does?" Bella asks.
"Yes. We started it together. Until the laws change and prostitution is legalized, men and women in the sex industry will continue to be victimized. It took me years to realize it, Bella, but there is nothing wrong with people selling their bodies for money. There is something wrong with a world where anyone feels they have the right to abuse us for that choice. And there is something wrong with hating yourself for what you did.
"You are strong, Bella. Don't let self-doubt keep you from going after what you want. You and Edward deserve to be happy, and to see if you can make something work together."
~oOo~
In a perfect world, the violin instructor would march over to Edward Cullen's shop the minute lunch is over and demand that he talk to her. But Bella's world isn't perfect, and she loses her nerve. Instead, she goes home, mulling over what she might say to the violin maker. She draws a blank. She paces and frets. She plays her violin. The days pass, and still, Bella doesn't go to see him.
It isn't until she's out for a run one morning that the former escort nearly slams into two people that she expected never to see again.
"Isabella?" She lifts startled eyes to see the taller of the two men staring at her in shock.
"Garrett!" Bella's eyes widen more when she looks at the man by Garrett's side. "Riley?" She can't believe she's seeing them together out in public, much less holding hands. "I thought … I thought you two were …"
"Married to women? Never going to come out of the closet?" Garrett asks dryly. "We were. Until you left."
Bella blinks. "I don't understand."
Riley flashes her a beautiful smile. "Once you weren't there to act as a go-between, Garrett and I realized that we were going to lose each other. We didn't want anyone else to fill your role, so it came down to deciding what was most important to us; the lies we were living or what we had together." He glances warmly at the man by his side. "We realized that what we had was more important than anything else. We both filed for divorce and came out at work."
Bella shakes her head in awe. "How … how did it go?"
Garrett smiles wryly. "It sucked. There was a lot of screaming and shouting at home. I lost my job."
"I was able to keep my job, but my father is no longer speaking to me," Riley continues with a grimace. "It's been rough on our families."
"Was it worth it?" she asks.
The men look at each other again, their expressions so loving—so connected—that Bella's cheeks flush. She's been naked between them, been fucked by both of their strong bodies, and yet the look they share is more intimate than any act Bella has seen between them in the past.
"Yes," they answer quietly, their eyes never leaving each other's. "More than worth it."
Garrett and Riley exchange a kiss so sweet that Bella blinks back tears and looks away. She aches for Edward. For the only man she's ever kissed like that.
"What about you?" Riley teases as the men turn to face her. "What lucky man is filling your bed now that you've retired from the business?"
Bella tries to laugh past the lump in my throat. "There's no one who measures up to you two," she jokes, trying to keep her voice light.
The men level disbelieving looks Bella's way, and she shrugs. "There was someone I considered seeing, but …" she shakes her head. "I don't know. It wouldn't have worked out."
"How can you know unless you try?" Garrett asks, his hazel eyes twinkling when Riley utters a knowing laugh.
Bella wishes the men well, and leaves them with hugs and kisses while Garrett's words echo in her mind. She's unbelievably happy for her former clients, but her heart aches when she jogs away. Garrett and Riley had far more to risk than she does. They were brave enough to go after what they wanted; why can't she?
Unconsciously, Bella's feet carry her to the door of Cullen's Strings. Her heart hammers in her chest when she sees the sign above the door, and her cheeks are flushed, but it has nothing to do with the physical exertion. It has everything to do with man that she hopes is inside.
Before she can talk herself out of it, Bella lets herself inside the door. A jangling bell announces her presence, and she looks around eagerly. The small shop is quiet and empty. Edward is nowhere in sight.
~oOo~
Edward is in his workshop at the back of the store. The sound of the bell above the door registers in the back of his brain, but he doesn't stop working until he remembers that Alice, the girl who works out front, is out sick for the day. He curses quietly to himself, setting the chisel down on his workbench and dusting his hands against his apron before pulling it off.
"I'll be right with you."
The woman freezes at the sound of Edward's voice calling from the back of the shop. She draws a deep breath, forcing herself to continue examining the shop around her.
Everything is meticulously neat. The cool air of the shop is perfumed with the smells of roisin and fine wood. There are white shelves lining the walls, setting off the rich tones of the beautiful violins on display. There's a small upholstered seating area to one side and several wooden chairs and music stands. On the other side of the room are glass display cases with more violins that draw Bella's eyes. She knows that the violins on the shelves are by no means inexpensive; they are beautifully crafted instruments in their own right. The violins in the display cases, however, are rare, fine art pieces; she instinctively knows that they are the jewels in Edward's collection.
"Sorry about the delay." Edward's voice grows louder as he walks through the door at the back of the shop. "Is there something I can help you with?"
He halts in his tracks when Bella turns to face him, his eyes going wide with surprise. He blinks, steadying himself for a moment with one hand on a glass case by his side. His fingers tighten on the case's edge, drawing Bella's gaze as he murmurs her name. He knows her friends call her Bella, but he doesn't quite feel comfortable using that name yet. "Isabella?"
His eyes move over her slowly, taking in her athletic shoes and sleek-fitting running gear. Her flushed cheeks and the dark hair curling softly at her temple. His mind flashes back to the memory of her lying on a big hotel bed, her expression soft and her hair tangled on the pillow. His chest aches with the urge to hold her again.
"Edward." Bella's voice is soft and a little tentative as her eyes move over the man before her. He is dressed casually, and she can see little curls of wood caught in the fine strands of his hair.
"You ..." Edward has no idea what to say. Half-formed thoughts whirl through his mind and he feels as though he can't quite draw in a full breath.
Bella steps forward toward him for a moment, her hand outstretched as if to touch him. "I …" she has to take a deep breath to steady herself. "I wanted to talk to you."
"I'm sorry I left like that the other night," he blurts out. "It had nothing to do with you, I swear. I mean, it did have to do with you, but not in the way you might be thinking."
She nods slowly. "You made me feel cheap."
Edward's face twists. "I never meant to make you feel that way."
Bella turns away, running her fingertips slowly across the wooden edge of the case beside her. "You may not have meant it, but I felt like a whore, Edward. I never felt that way once in eight years as an escort."
Edward bows his head in shame. He knew he had hurt Bella with his behavior but he had no idea how deeply.
"It wasn't you," he says hoarsely. "I was horrified by myself. You have to understand, my father … my father was a philandering asshole. He cheated on my mother over and over again. I never understood how he could do that to a woman he claimed to love. I swore to myself that I'd never be that man. And yet …"
"Do you love Angela?" Bella asks, glancing over at him.
Edward shakes his head. "No. Angela was … I realize now that I wanted her to be someone else."
"Who?"
Edward looks her squarely in the eye. "You."
The word hangs heavily in the air and the violin maker takes a step toward her. He brushes his palm over Bella's upper arm, and she swallows at the heat in his touch, warming her skin through the fabric of her light jacket. "Me?"
"Yes. You." Edward looks at her for a long moment. "Can you forgive me for the way I acted at the party?"
Bella nods slowly. "Are you still with Angela?"
"No. I broke it off after that night. She deserves better." Edward reaches up, gently tracing the backs of his fingers over Bella's cheek. "If you can forgive me, does that mean that you'd consider the idea of seeing me again? Not as a client."
Bella opens her mouth to tell Edward that she isn't an escort anymore, but he continues.
"I can't promise that I won't struggle with sharing you with your clients, but I'm willing to try. I won't ask you to quit for me, Isabella. I know you love what you do, and I'd never ask you to stop just because it makes me uncomfortable. I won't lie … it will be difficult for me, but I can't keep fighting this."
Bella smiles up at him tremulously, amazed that this man is willing to go beyond where he's comfortable with to be with her. Then again, wasn't that the very reason they met in the first place? Edward hired her because he wanted to stretch his limits.
"Thank you, Edward," she says humbly. She steps closer, breathing in the mingled scents of wood shavings and his cologne. She reaches out, taking Edward's hand, feeling his long fingers close over hers.
"I can't explain it." Edward sounds slightly bewildered as he speaks. "I've never felt this way with anyone. And I'm not willing to let you walk out this door without trying to see where it can go. We might fail, but how do we know unless we try?"
Bella smiles as Edward echoes Garrett's earlier words, and then she leans in to kiss him. Edward makes a low, surprised sound in the back of his throat, but wastes no time in kissing her back.
Unfortunately, the moment is interrupted by the bell over the shop door. Edward draws back with a groan of frustration and Bella dips her head, smiling at the sound. The violin maker's expression is polite as he turns to greet the customer, but his fingers slide against Bella's as if reluctant to let go.
"Sorry," he murmurs.
While Edward helps the customer, Bella wanders around the shop. She pauses by one of the cases, surprised to see one violin displayed alone, a card beside the piece stating that that it is not for sale. It's the most beautiful violin she's ever seen, and even through the glass she can the painstaking attention to detail that was paid when it was made. Bella's fingers itch to touch the glossy finish, and she leans in closer to inspect the piece further. It's laid out on soft velvet, and there's another small, hand-written tag by the violin's neck. She noticed similar cards by the other violins and knows that Edward names each piece he builds. Her breath catches in her throat when she sees the name written on this violin's card: Bella.
Logically, Bella knows that the name could be nothing more than a reference to the Italian word for beautiful. Still, a part of her wants to believe that Edward made this violin for her. She's so transfixed by the little card, that she doesn't notice the customer leave, or the man as he closes up the shop.
Edward snaps the lock on the door and flips over the sign that tells the world his store is closed. He doesn't care if he loses business by closing a few hours early; he's more concerned with the woman on the other side of the room. Bella is bent over the case holding the violin he made with her in mind, inspecting it closely through the glass. She doesn't stir when Edward comes to stand behind her, though she does jump when he places his palm gently on her shoulder.
"Would you like to play it?" he asks quietly.
Bella's eyes fly to meet his, wide and astonished. "More than anything."
Edward fishes the key to the case out of his pocket, neither of them speaking a word as he carefully lifts the instrument from the velvet and places it in Bella's hands. Holding it reverently, she moves to seat herself in one of the wooden chairs across the room. Edward follows, taking a seat on an upholstered chair a few feet away.
Bella closes her eyes as she lifts the instrument to her shoulder, tucking it neatly under her chin. Edward smiles when he sees that the violin he carved looks right in Bella's hands, like it belongs there. When the first pure, sweet note fills the air, Edward lets go of a breath that he feels he's been holding since he walked away from the hotel all those months ago.
The violin fills the air with words neither Edward nor Bella can speak, telling a story of a man haunted by the memory of a woman, and the woman's need for him. It tells of their fears and insecurities. But mostly it tells of their future.
Bella's cheeks are tear-stained when she finishes playing. Edward gets to his feet, walking slowly toward her before squatting beside her chair.
"You made this for me," she says. It isn't a question, but a statement of fact. She knows he did.
Edward nods once, his voice hoarse. "Yes. I never thought I'd get to see you play it, though."
Bella lowers the violin carefully to her lap and bows her head so their foreheads touch, though neither looks at the other. "I quit working for Emmett six months ago," she says quietly. "I'm a violin instructor now."
She feels Edward start and they lift their heads to gaze at each other. There's a light in his eyes, but a worried frown still creases his forehead.
"Why did you quit?" he asks.
"Because it was time."
Edward nods and swallows hard, lifting the violin and bow from her hands and returning them to the case. "This violin is yours, but I'll keep it safe until you'd like to take it home."
"I think I'd like to keep it here," she offers and he nods, hearing her unspoken words. The violin will be something they share, and Bella will be here enough to play it whenever she wants.
"Why was it time?" he asks as he walks back over to her.
Edward listens as Bella explains her decision the best that she can; her need for music in her life, her desire to make it her career again, and the hope for a relationship outside of her former work. He nods when she's finished, satisfied with her answer, and holds out his hand to Bella. She looks up at him from her seat in the wooden chair, her eyes alight with hope and Edward's heart beats faster when she puts her small, warm hand in his.
Silently, Bella lets Edward lead her to the back room. He flicks off the lights in the shop and closes the door between the store front and the workshop. The workshop is warm and homey, with the scent of wood shavings and polish hanging deliciously heavy in the air. An organized mess of tools and wood is scattered over workbenches. It looks like chaos to Bella's eyes, but she suspects that the man by her side knows exactly where everything is; she imagines he can find anything he needs while blindfolded.
Memories of Edward blindfolded fill Bella's mind, and she sees him bent over the hotel bed and then lying back against the white sheets, mindlessly lost in pleasure. Bella longs to touch him again, and this time, to feel him inside her.
"What now?" she asks, unsure of how they'll proceed from here. Her voice is warmed by remembered passion.
Edward stops, leaning against a heavy workbench as he turns to look at her. "I don't know," he says honestly. "I know I want to get to know you. I want to take you out. To dinner, out dancing, to the symphony." He grins when Bella laughs gently at his eager words. "I want to see you in my apartment, Isabella. In my bed. I want you in my life."
"That works for me," Bella says, her voice surprisingly shaky. She doesn't care in what order these things happens; they can have their date tomorrow or a week from now. Right now she just wants to touch this man.
Edward smiles at Bella's words, and then leads her to the stairs along the back wall of his workshop, holding her hand as they walk up and into his apartment.
His home is exactly what Bella might have expected. Neat and cozy, filled with warm wood furnishings and comfortable, personal details although they don't truly register as she follows Edward toward his bedroom. She's too focused on what will happen next.
Just inside the door, they turn to one another, unable to keep from touching any longer. Edward can feel Bella trembling against him when he pulls her close to kiss her, and he stifles a groan as her arms slide around his neck. His large hands close around her hips and he lifts her easily, setting her gently on the scarred wooden top of his bureau. He likes the sight of her there, and that the bureau brings her hips level with his. Bella buries her fingers in his hair as she kisses him, reacquainting herself with his taste and feel. Edward.
He moans against her mouth when his hips meet the insides of her thighs. The heat there is astonishing and he wonders what it will feel like when he's inside her. His hands move down over Bella's thighs and then up again to her waist. Bella's body fits in Edward's hands perfectly, as if she was made for him. Seemingly handcrafted, much like the violins he carves for their owners.
Bella's hands slide from Edward's hair over his shoulders, ghosting over his pecs and down his stomach. Her fingers slip between their bodies to lift his shirt. Edward pulls back to allow room for Bella's searching fingers, and the movement rocks his dick against her.
Like their encounter in Emmett's bathroom, there is a frantic, desperation to their touches. Edward's mouth is hot and wet against Bella's neck as he uses one hand to push against her knee, folding her thigh up against her chest. Bella lets out a shaky breath when Edward presses closer, fitting himself more tightly against her body.
Edward licks the salt from Bella's skin, his mouth lingering on her throat, one hand sliding toward her breast. His thumb toys with her nipple through her clothing, and he feels it harden under his touch.
"Yes, Edward," she gasps.
He unzips Bella's light-weight jacket, sliding it off her shoulders before slipping his hands under the tightly fitting athletic bra, pulling it up and over her head with one quick movement. When Bella is bare from the waist up, Edward dips his head to press his lips to the soft skin on her sternum. His tongue slides across her collarbones as his hands move to her breasts and he hums, appreciating the weight of them in his hands, and the way her nipples pucker at his touch.
Bella moans softly at the feel of Edward's rough, strong hands gently teasing her. It's so different being the focus of his attention rather than the other way around. Now she is the one making desperate noises, the one writhing, the one who is ready to beg for more.
"Need you," she murmurs. "Oh please."
Bella doesn't even know what she wants. Whether it's Edward's hands and lips on her body, his fingers inside of her, or his cock inside her, all she know is she needs more.
Edward's skin is hot and smooth under Bella's hands when he lifts her, carrying her quickly to the bed. He lays her out swiftly, then stretches his body over hers, pressing her against the mattress so she can feel the crisp hairs on his chest dragging across her aching nipples.
Bella gasps when Edward's tongue slides over hers in a deep kiss. His hands roughly hook under her knees, tugging her forward and pressing her thighs up and back toward her. Edward's cock bites into her soft skin, pressing through the heavy denim of his jeans, and Bella lets out a needy whimper. She's imagined this since their night in the hotel room, imagined him touching her just like this.
Edward lifts his lips from hers, staring down at her face, his eyes dark and intent. "You tortured me, you know."
"What?" she asks, puzzled.
"I needed you inside me so badly and you wouldn't give it to me. You made me beg for it."
Bella's grin lights her eyes. "You enjoyed every second of it. Besides, I had to make sure you were ready to take me."
Edward growls low in his throat, his cock throbbing at her words. He rocks his hips against hers, teasing her. "Are you ready to take me now?"
Bella nods eagerly, her breathing shallow and strained. Her hips shift restlessly in anticipation and her eyes follow Edward as he steps back, watching his hands move teasingly to the waistband of his jeans. They're slung low enough that she can see the edge of his grey boxer briefs, and his fingers move over the buttons in the fly with unbearable slowness. Bella props herself up on her elbows to get a better view, sweat breaking out on her forehead as Edward teases her.
When his buttons are undone, Edward slides a hand into his opened fly, palming his cock and rubbing just a little. Bella's breath hitches in her chest; she has never wanted anyone so badly.
Edward is nearly at the end of his rope, but enjoys teasing Bella too much to stop. He loves watching her squirm in anticipation, and that she is desperate for more. He doesn't know what this is—what this intensity between them means—but he's never felt anything like it. It's heady and addictive. It makes him crave more.
He hooks his thumbs under the edge of his boxers, sliding them down over his hips and letting them drop with the jeans to the floor. Bella's lips part as his clothes fall away and Edward remembers the way that mouth felt around his cock. He could slide into her mouth right now, if he wanted, but he'd rather sink into her pussy. He moves forward, stepping out of his jeans to grip the waistband of Bella's athletic pants, pulling them down her body along with the underwear she's wearing.
During their night in the hotel, Edward was been so wrapped up in his own pleasure that he hadn't really looked at Bella. He looks his fill now. Bella has a perfect hourglass figure with full breasts, a slim, nipped waist, and flared hips. She is like one of Edward's violins, but a thousand times more beautiful.
He hurriedly finds a condom and rolls it on, his eyes hardly leaving hers. His gaze makes her shiver as he steps closer to her. Her skin is smooth and pale, and she trembles as Edward slides his hands up over the tops of her thighs to grip her hips.
He leans over to kiss her when Bella moans, climbing back onto the bed to settle between her thighs. Bella shifts, squeezing Edward's hips with her knees before wrapping her legs around him. Edward's hips rock forward, his cock sliding over the slick heat of her pussy, and they let out mingled groans of need.
Bella clutches Edward's broad shoulder with both hands when the head of his cock grazes her clit. She lets out a startled gasp and he presses a little harder on the next pass.
"Oh God, Edward," she pleads. "Please."
Edward's hand moves to grasp his cock, and he aligns his body with Bella's entrance. He pauses, looking down at her to gauge her reaction. Bella lifts her hips, subtly urging him on. Before he does anything else, his lips touch hers again, and then he pushes forward.
They both freeze for a long moment.
Edward feels Bella's breath against his forehead. Bella kisses the skin there softly and Edward blows out a gust of air when her body grips his cock.
Bella's heart is racing. She whimpers, wordlessly begging Edward to move, and when he finally does, licks of pleasure run down her spine. She moans loudly. Edward moves slowly at first, as if he's teasing her again, and Bella writhes under him, her hips rising to meet his smooth, even strokes. Edward slides his arms under her shoulders, lifting her so they can kiss more deeply.
Edward wants to draw this out, to make the feeling last and last. He can't. The sensations sweeping over him are too intense. His movement quicken, his breaths coming harsh and heavy. He tears his mouth from Bella's with a grunt, and lifts his torso off hers. Bella gasps when Edward hits the perfect angle and pace, throwing her arms up over her head. Her legs lock around his hips as he drives into her.
Bella's orgasm sweeps over her in a sudden rush, bowing her back and pulling a desperate cry from her lips. Edward watches Bella tremble in his arms, a flush spreading over her face and neck as her body pulses around his cock. All it takes is a few hard thrusts to tip him over the edge. The room tilts around Edward as he gasps, his body jerking, and the pleasure stretches on and on, seeming endless. He finally collapses against Bella, his head on her chest and her arms loose around his waist.
Both of them are shaking and panting; overcome. Bella's fingers move through Edward's hair gently, the action soothing them both.
"Isabella," he whispers against her skin, pausing when he feels her shakes her head.
"It's Bella. Just Bella."
"Bella," he repeats and smiles.
~oOo~
When they can move again, Bella and Edward make use of his shower before tumbling back onto the soft sheets of his bed.
They spend hours talking and fucking, becoming better acquainted with each other as they intersperse their pleasure with conversation. Bella likes the way Edward laughs; it warms something inside her chest. Edward likes Bella's curiosity; the way she peers up at him when she's waiting for him to answer a question. She enjoys his affectionate gestures and the way his hands seem never to leave her body. He notes the way she fits in his arms and smiles when she tucks herself against him as if she belongs there.
Bella appreciates the way Edward listens to her past; never judging, never dismissing, only curious. Edward likes the way Bella talks about her new career; eager to teach her students. He imagines her turning the space above his shop into a small violin school, so they'll be close during the day. She imagines him moving into her condo, filling it with his warm presence.
They muse about the way they met and Edward laughs softly, his lips against Bella's neck. "I don't have to hire you to get you to fuck my ass again, do I?"
Bella shakes her head, pleased that they can joke about it. "No, believe me; I'm eager to do it again."
He makes a low sound of appreciation and slides his warm palm over her back, drawing her closer. "Who would have thought that a violin teacher and a violin maker would meet through an escort service?"
Bella hums, stretching against Edward's body. She knows their meeting had more to do with a friend who saw a need in them both, and helped guide them toward each other.
"Emmett," she says, gently correcting the man holding her in his arms. "We met through Emmett."
Bella knows that, years from now, when people ask the couple how they met, they'll share a small, secret smile and then answer honestly. "Through a friend."
Notes: We hope you like the way the story wrapped up. They aren't perfect people by any means, but they've found something really unique together.
If you'd like a little glimpse into their future together, take a look at this i39#tinypic#com/59t0d4#jpg
(Copy and paste, and replace the # with a period)