Chapter 4:
A Sexually Active High School Girl
-or-
The Making of Edward Cullen's Personal Slut
I don't know what I expected to happen Monday. I wasn't sure if I was more excited about the idea of seeing Edward again, or more weary of it. I was embarrassed. All of Sunday I couldn't help but wonder what Edward thought of me. Did he make fun of me? Did he laugh with his friends about how easy I was? Edward didn't seem like that type of guy, but I barely even knew him.
Well, really what I guess I expected to happen was that Edward would ignore me again, which is why I was surprised to find a note in my locker after second period.
Meet me in room 102 during lunch.
~E
I folded the note up and put it in my pocket, heart pounding. I seriously thought about not going. But what would that mean if I didn't go? Would he just shrug his shoulders and forget about me? And what exactly did he want to do during lunch? Maybe he wanted to talk, but didn't want to be seen with me?
When I walked into the room, Edward immediately closed the door behind me and pushed a chair up under the hand rail.
"What's up?" I asked, trying to turn to him, but Edward pulled my back up against his chest, wrapping his arms around me and holding me in place. His large body enveloped mine and it felt really good just to be held like that.
"You look so beautiful today," he whispered in my ear. I knew I wasn't beautiful, but right then, he was making me feel like I was.
With his arms snaked around me, he undid my jeans.
"Oh my God, Edward. We can't, it's the middle of school!" I whispered forcefully at him, as he slipped his large hand into the front of my pants.
"Relax, babe, we'll be quick," he whispered in my ear, his voice low and husky. "I can feel that you're wet for me already." He wasn't wrong. The excitement of being near him coupled with my nervousness of getting caught had already made me shaky and wanting.
He pushed my jeans down just past my butt, then pushed me so I was leaning over the large wooden desk. "Don't move."
I remained still as I heard him behind me. I could practically feel his gaze on my bare ass as I remained vulnerable and exposed to him.
There was no warning before his dick was suddenly pushed into me and I gasped. He hadn't lied; it was quick. He pushed in and out hard and fast, rougher than he had been before.
I could feel my need growing, but he came before I did and pulled out, leaving me unsatisfied. I wanted him to keep going, to keep touching me, but the pleasure I was feeling was already waning, so I just glumly pulled up my pants as Edward adjusted himself.
I surreptitiously watched him as he wrapped up the condom in a couple of tissues and threw it in the trashcan. He looked over at me, but I had a hard time meeting his gaze.
"That was awesome, Bella, thank you," he said and kissed me on the lips quickly before he just walked out of the room.
I felt like crying, or screaming. I don't know why, but that 'thank you' felt like a slap in the face.
Now I know any self-respecting girl would have called him out on his bullshit, or at the very least stopped letting him use her like this, but I did neither of those things. I guess I thought that this treatment was what I deserved, that this was the best I would ever get. I didn't feel like I was pretty enough or charming enough to get a real boyfriend. This is why I let it continue.
Edward didn't approach me on Tuesday, but Wednesday he showed up while I was reading behind the vending machines, or really I should say I was sitting there, staring at my book, replaying all our encounters over again in my head.
"Hey Bella," Edward said, suddenly standing over me, grinning his panty-wetting grin.
I set my book aside and stood up.
"Have you told anyone about what we are doing?" I demanded.
"No. Why?" he asked, getting up really close to me, putting his hands on my hips, "Has someone said something to you?"
I shook my head.
"Of course I didn't tell anyone." His brows knitted together. "I sort of thought we had an understanding."
"What's your understanding?" I'm not sure where I got the courage.
He raised his eyebrows at me. "What's yours?"
"I asked you first."
He smiled and his face relaxed. He kissed me on the forehead, "You're cute when you're feisty, you know," he shook my hips playfully, "I don't know, Bell." The nickname made me feel special, and softened me toward him again. It was so easy for him to get under my skin. It seemed like everything he did made me want him. "How I understood it was that neither of us wanted labels or anything like that."
What's that supposed to mean? But I was so used to not saying what I was really thinking, so instead I just nodded.
"I know that I enjoy being with you," he said.
"You do?" I asked before I could think better of it.
He chuckled and pulled me by my hips up against his crotch. "How do you not know that? When I'm with you, my whole body is on fire."
"Me too."
He smiled and then he was kissing me, deep and passionate. This time he didn't have to ask me to put my arms around his neck, because I was clinging to him with everything I had.
He fucked me against the wall, kissing me a lot more than he did Monday, which felt good, like he was interested in me, not just any girl who would let him have sex with her. Afterwards, he kissed me goodbye and I simply went to work.