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Chapter 4. Sundays

Carlisle's POV

Believe it or not, I don't remember a fucking thing from last week. I'm floating in the vacuum of my frenzied thoughts, my stupid hesitance, and even more stupid bravery. In the back of my mind, in bold yellow letters, flashes that new address, screaming for my attention like a glowing streetlight on a dark crossroad.

It's early on Sunday morning. The breaking dawn finds me in my Mercedes, my hands clawing at the steering wheel, my forehead covered in a thick layer of perspiration and a spider web of locks of my disheveled hair.

The road leads me to a small cottage near the city limits. I spare a minute to observe the neighborhood; it's a desolate district. No one will hear me if I scream. The irregular thought scares me. Why would I think of screaming in the first place?

Edward's POV

Right after I orgasm for the first time, Jasper tells me about the unexpected visit of his handsome doctor.

This is not good. It seems the situation leaves me no choice, but at the same time, I don't want to hurt Jasper's feelings. What's more, at this stage, I don't wish to kill another human.

Carlisle's POV

The cottage is built of old yellow stones, and brown clay tiles cover its roof. I would have thought it came straight from a fairytale if it weren't for the horrible things I imagined to happen inside.

Green leaves crawl everywhere over the walls, and I use the thick stems for leverage. This is the second time in my life I find myself peeking through a window to spy on a house's inhabitants. Sorry, Dad. I am a recedivistic criminal.

From the very first glimpse, my eyes are stuck on the most beautiful view.

Jasper's POV

Fear takes over me when I see Edward's face morphing into a stone mask. His chin squares, eyes half-shut, nostrils flare. I shouldn't have told him.

Carlisle's POV

The two naked bodies before me are nothing less than the ideal marble sculpture. Standing flushed against each other in an embrace, it's as if they are frozen in time with only their palms lazily drawing smooth, wide circles over each other's backs. Their chests are firmly pressed one against the other, broad shoulders nearly leveling. Jasper's cheek rests on the other man's shoulder; the stranger's chin is buried in my boy's golden curls.

Fierce jealousy stabs my stomach.

Edward's POV

His hands are so soothing. They glide over my back, putting my worries to rest, and my own hands mimic their movements. He feels me; he knows I've had an upsetting thought. His empathic self only thinks of comforting me.

He's so much more than I've bargained for.

"You're calm now; I can sense it. You may fuck me," he says in a hushed voice, and I am happy.

Carlisle's POV

They separate, and now I can see how aroused both of them are. Following the other man's lead, Jasper takes the few steps toward the huge bed, which fills half the room. It's covered with white sheets, and I can see it's not made; the sheets are, in fact, a total mess.

As if performing one of those medieval dances, the unfamiliar man lifts Jasper's arm in the air and makes him swirl. Jasper giggles. The other man's bronze-haired head leans so their lips meet in a long kiss until Jasper is made to sit on the bed. The long, perfect fingers of the stranger grab handfuls of Jasper's beautiful hair and align his mouth to a perking cock.

The next moment, the cock disappears between Jasper's lips; I am mesmerized. Continuing that awkward dance, they move in rhythm: Jasper's head bobbing and the other man's ass cheeks contracting, his body swaying, never losing the contact. Back and forth, like a million times, hypnotically repeating the same movement, the bronze-haired man fucks Jasper's mouth, and I keep staring.

I hate myself for not being able to avert my gaze. But at the same time, I don't really want to. My own erection is proof I am a filthy person, a voyeur, but, God, those two male figures are perfection.

The next thing I know, Jasper is being lifted in the air, cradled in the other man's arms, and gently laid on the bed sheets. He smiles; the taller man smiles too. They look so happy together.

I take a moment to drink in Jasper's beauty. Just like I've always known, his body is chiseled, toned, and proportionate. With his legs spread apart and his erection pointing to the left of his navel, he only makes me think of being there, jumping on him, and claiming him. But instead, another wave of animalistic jealousy stabs me when this action is performed by another.

The other man lifts one of Jasper's legs and inserts three lube-coated fingers inside his body. Three. Fucking. Fingers.

Considering Jasper doesn't even blink, I guess he's been prepared beforehand. Maybe they've fucked before my arrival, but then, he would be sore, but I can see he enjoys the ministrations. The fingers move in and out of his hole several times, and, all too quickly, the stranger's glistening cock replaces them. He doesn't use a condom, and my mind screams.

I hate myself even more now. My erection strains my underwear. If I weren't holding these branches, I would be stroking myself, but I can't because I don't want to fall and make a noise, which would alert them to my presence. I also don't want to lose the view before my eyes.

Their act goes on for what feels like more than thirty minutes. They switch positions, at times Jasper is on top, riding the other guy's dick, only to be lifted like a doll and then pressed under his partner's weight in the next minute. The inhuman stamina of the bronze-haired man is impressive; he plays my Jasper like an instrument, filling him, exhausting him, stroking every part of his body, and exerting loud moans, which I hear through the window.

When I least expect it, both performers freeze. In one swift movement, the stranger jumps to his feet, upright in the bed, his head nearly reaching the ceiling. Standing there like a conqueror over his prey, he covers Jasper in jizz. Jasper's body is shaking with giggles.

Unexpectedly, my stomach twists, and I throw up. The remains of my last meal hit the ground from a ten-foot height and splash into an ugly puddle so far from me, I can't smell the stench.

Edward's POV

That man out there … disgusting. I kept calm until now with all those noises he produced, climbing my wall. But now, with this stench … I should get rid of him.

Jasper's POV

"Edward? What's wrong?" It's another shift in his expression. Even more scary than before.

"I have something to do outside. You just rest."

I can do nothing to calm him right now, and I let go. Our time for today will soon be over. I'll take care of him one more time then it's time for the hospital and my next meeting with the good doctor.

I sigh and take a deep breath, waiting for his return. Only a few moments later, he is back, his hands clenched into fists, frenzy in his black eyes.

"Edward, what? Talk to me." That look has me worried. He's never this crazy.

"I … never mind, nothing happened. Come, let me hug you."

I like that. Hugging is good. He scoops me in his arms and carries me across the room. We sit in the armchair. He loves the moments we spend like this together, with me in his lap, my naked butt pressed against his groin.

"No more fucking for today," he suddenly whispers. "Let me taste you and you may go."

I outstretch my arm and let him puncture the skin with his teeth. Right arm, near the elbow, following the established pattern.

"Don't forget your money," he says when he's done drinking. He steps to the corner and falls to his knees. "Go, quickly."

I do as I'm told. I grab my money and leave.

A/N: Any questions?