Chapter Notes

Hello sweet pervs. Welcome to another installment of WindowWard's torment.

Huge leg-wrap hugs go out to my beautiful Beta-Goddess, Catty-Wan. I love you and your vengeful loathing of the Smut Fairy.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Twilight characters. If I did I'd be a squajillionaire and bored out of my mind.

Enjoy.

Chapter 5 – Sweet Agony

EPOV

I'm a masochist.

I'm a masochist who obviously enjoys torturing himself – forcing myself to feel staggering amounts of bloodlust, desire, jealousy, violent fury and blazing hunger all at the same time.

That's the only explanation I have for doing what I was currently doing.

Either that or I had completely and totally lost my mind.

To be honest, either option was possible.

The idiot boyfriend, Jacob, was on top of my Isabella, pushing his inferior body onto her and into her, fumbling and pawing at her glorious physique like he was sexually retarded and making noises so unbelievably aggravating I was tempted to rip my ears off rather than listen to them.

My fingers dug deep furrows in my poor abused tree-companion as I fought the urge to eviscerate him and wear his innards like a scarf.

Goddamn cretin.

Yet I resisted the urge to kill him because at the moment he was offering me something too precious to jeopardize.

A few minutes ago, I inadvertently opened my mind to him, trying to discover how he could be so impossibly clueless when it came to pleasuring a sexual Goddess such as Isabella, and I was instantly pummeled by the mind-blowing sensation of him moving inside of her, feeling her soft body beneath him...around him. Even her lackluster caresses and fake moans were like forbidden heaven to me.

I had been pleasuring her in her sleep for nearly a month now, becoming bolder in testing my limits, pushing myself to touch more of her, defying the roaring beast inside me who continually gnawed at my self-control like a wolverine, slashing at my restraint more viciously with every caress and inch of skin.

So far I'd been successful in resisting his tantalizing cries for blood, and it gave me the confidence to experiment further with her pleasure, always mindful that a single misplaced touch or bite could instantly end her life.

I had explored Isabella's body with the boundless fascination of a scientist, testing different combinations of erogenous zones, trying different pressures with my fingers...my lips...my tongue. Every reaction I drew out of her added another link in the chain of desire that shackled me to her, drawing me back to her night after night, pulling me into her bedroom, dragging me to her glorious body, demanding that I worship it in the only way I could – anonymously, disguised in darkness and dreams.

However, as much as her ecstasy fascinated and satisfied me, I knew there were certain things I could never experience with her, and at the moment Jacob was doing one of them. Although I ached for it more than anything, I knew I could never be inside her like he could. I could never thrust myself into her with wild abandon, feeling the warm divinity of her magnificent body surrounding me...engulfing me...claiming me. It was bad enough that I allowed my dangerously hard fingers and tongue to invade her body. There was no way I would be able to control myself if I ever let my aching erection anywhere near her. I could rupture her fatally in a heartbeat, and that was a risk I was not willing to take.

And so here I was, experiencing her glory the only way I could – by invading the mind of her Neanderthal boyfriend – a sexual simpleton who had no goddamn idea how blessed he was to be granted the slick utopia of her incredible body.

I hated him and envied him and was grateful to him all at once.

Every muscle in my body was screaming and sighing simultaneously – begging for violence, pleading for pleasure, raging in jealousy – taut and poised for any action I decided upon. Of course the result of the tsunami of conflicting desires was that I was rooted helplessly to the spot, paralyzed as I burned and ached and throbbed for some kind of release.

I could feel Jacob nearing his orgasm, and I immediately cut the connection, gasping and clutching at the tree as my knees buckled beneath me. I couldn't cope with the feeling of him spilling inside of her when it was the one thing I longed for so desperately.

I blocked out his thoughts, trying to calm my savage jealousy as he screamed his climax into the night.

"Oh, fuck, yes, Bells, I'm cumming, baby! I'm cumming, baby! I'M CUMMING, BAYBEEEE!"

Jesus, how did Isabella cope with that?

He was a child in a man's body, playing grown-up and failing miserably at it. Isabella deserved so much more.

She deserved me.

She deserved the part of me that wanted to satisfy her every whim and desire. The part that wanted to hold and caress her, that could make her body quake with unrivaled pleasure.

Of course that part of me was handcuffed to the blood-thirsty monster who wanted to tear her throat out and gorge itself on her blood, so I guess having me as her boyfriend wasn't really an enticing option after all.

I jumped down from the tree and sprinted into the forest, fulfilling my nightly ritual of hunting before I entered her room. I realized that trying to dissuade my bloodlust by glutting myself on animals was practically pointless against her blood's shattering aroma, but I did it anyway, determined to use every defense possible against the ravenous beast inside me.

Alice told me that the longer I was subjected to her scent, the more desensitized I would become.

So far that hadn't happened.

Her blood still screamed my name, sawing at my self-control like a serrated blade, making me shudder with need. But my desire to keep her whole and healthy tempered my bloodlust, and for the moment I was satisfied with my ability to maintain that precarious balance, despite the fact it was a constant battle.

Luckily for Isabella, it was a battle I considered worth winning.

I quickly tracked a herd of deer and drank my fill, draining three medium-sized animals as quickly as I could, eager to get back to Isabella's window.

My window.

I sprinted back towards the house, slightly high on the balmy euphoria that fresh blood gave me, feeling renewed power and vigor in my muscles, reveling in the sensation of spreading warmth beneath my cold skin.

As usual after I had just fed, I found myself speculating how different Isabella's blood would feel inside me. How it would pulse and dance in my undead veins.

I remembered human blood. The bright spark of it was intensely powerful, and after draining a person I would push aside my crushing guilt for just a few minutes so I could savor the intoxicating pleasure it brought me.

It made me feel bulletproof, potent, and indestructible. It was so vastly superior to animal blood that there was really no comparison.

I could imagine that drinking Isabella's blood would be exponentially better again. I wouldn't just feel indestructible. I would feel like a god.

As seductive as the concept was, I knew I could never do it. The seed Alice had planted in my brain that Isabella might possibly be my mate eclipsed all other concepts. The thought that one day I might be able to have someone by my side to share my involuntary forever was the most compelling fantasy I'd ever had.

Could someone as warm and alive as she was possibly feel anything but revulsion for someone like me? She reacted positively to my body, but would she recoil once she knew what I was? Would I ever have the courage to show her my face in the light?

I sincerely doubted it.

My nocturnal visits may have been sick and perverted, but at least we both got pleasure from them, and in my life, that was enough. Seeing her every night and making her body writhe beneath my fingers satisfied me.

For now.

It gave me purpose and reason. It made me believe, just for a short while, that I was capable of something other than death and destruction. She made me feel more...human.

I could hear Isabella's steady breathing as I approached her house, and I bypassed my beloved tree to leap directly onto the window sill, hovering there for a moment as I double-checked that Jacob had left and Isabella was, in fact, asleep. I took a deep breath of reasonably untainted air before gently sliding the window up and stepping through it, pausing while I let my raging body get used to the shattering redolence of her room.

My nose wrinkled as the stench that Jacob invariably left behind assailed me, tainting her perfect aroma, but still, my body's reaction was powerful and predictable – flowing venom, crawling skin, rock-hard dick. Check, check, and throbbing check.

I stood there and took several steadying breaths, making sure I was fully in control before walking over to the bed.

I could see her body tense as I approached.

She could feel me.

Before I could even lay a finger on her, she knew I was here, and her body reacted in the most delicious ways. Her heart-rate sped up and a gentle blush crept across her body, blood-vessels dilating, pumping sweet-smelling blood just under the surface of her skin. She moaned softly and kicked off her sheets, allowing the scent of her arousal to waft over me.

I looked down on her, trembling with anticipation, helpless and enslaved to the call of her smell and her skin.

"Isabella?"

"Hmmm..."

"Tell me you want me, Isabella."

I reached out and grazed my fingertips down her thigh, swallowing a mouthful of venom as her legs parted for me. Willingly. Wantonly.

"Hmmm...yes...I want you..."

I walked to the foot of the bed, trailing my fingers down to her ankle, touching her as if she were delicate tissue paper, restraining my strength to caress her with the gentlest of touches.

"Tell me that I'm the only one who can make you feel this way," I said softly, licking my lips as I looked down on her lithe form.

Just me, Isabella. Not Jacob. Not anyone else. Only me.

"Only you...please...touch me..."

That's why I'm here.

I reached down and hooked my hands beneath her knees, dragging her down to the end of the bed, her bottom resting on the edge and her feet on the floor. I moved quickly, ridding her of her pajamas before kneeling between her open legs, looking down on her nakedness with glory and wonder. Just the sight of her made me groan.

Her breathing became shallow and fast, and I knew what she wanted. What we both wanted.

I put my hands on her, pausing briefly as I closed my eyes against the fresh onslaught of fire in my throat and venom in my mouth.

Her skin was like paradise to me. Painful, torturous paradise where horror images of ripping skin and sparkling blood coalesced with images of pulsing, desperate pleasure.

Her muscles trembled and twitched under my touch, and when the bloodlust waned, I opened my eyes so I could witness what my touch did to her, so I could behold her magnificent unraveling.

I skimmed my hands up her legs, over her calves and thighs, studying the flickers of desperation and need that flashed across her face.

"You're so warm, Isabella," I groaned as my skin ignited against hers, "Always. So soft and warm and perfect."

I bent down and pressed my lips to her inner thigh, simultaneously inhaling her scent and clamping my jaw shut against the excruciating urge to sink my teeth into her creamy flesh. I froze as I waited for the urge to pass before resuming my progress, kissing her legs, occasionally allowing myself the dangerous luxury of flicking my tongue across her sweet skin.

God, she tasted amazing. She was like an exotic spice, sweet and sultry and utterly addictive. I couldn't get enough of her.

Weeks ago, when I first contemplated putting my tongue on her, I was terrified of the consequences. I had no idea how her skin would react to my venom. Would it burn her?

I had called Carlisle to see if he had any information. He had told me that generally, unless our venom was injected directly into the bloodstream, it was essentially harmless to humans. That little gem of information made me happier than I had any right to be. The day he told me was the first time I tasted Isabella's skin, and now I physically ached for it.

I trailed my tongue across her inner thigh and chuckled as her back arched off the bed.

"You're always so eager, Isabella...so responsive...and yet, I've never heard these noises come out of you when your heaving oaf of a boyfriend is touching you. Why is that?"

I didn't really expect her respond. I knew the answer. Apart from the fact that Isabella and I shared a strange empathetic sexual chemistry, Jacob was simply the wrong man for her. It was like he existed on an entirely different sexual frequency, and no matter how hard he tried to be in tune with Isabella's body, he failed. Every time.

I was not only in tune with her body, I was broadcasting on a satellite dish the size of Brazil. There was no way the man-boy could compete with me.

I continued pressing my mouth to Isabella's warm skin, stroking her legs with my hands as I moved to the juncture at the top of her legs, kissing all around the delicate flesh, circling her...teasing her.

"Oh...God..." she moaned, and I couldn't help a self-satisfied chuckle.

"He can't do this to you, can he?" I said smugly, "He can't make your body sing like I can."

Her pelvis pressed toward me and I couldn't resist any more. I covered her with my mouth, growling as my tongue came in contact with her sweetness, the taste of her demolishing me one delicious lick at a time.

"Oh...fuck...yes," she groaned into the darkness.

God, I loved it when I made her curse. My erection was aching and demanding release, but wild horses couldn't drag me away from my current activity.

"My God, Isabella," I groaned as I pulled back to look at her, "you taste so much better than you smell, and you smell absolutely incredible. I will never get tired of how you feel on my tongue."

I went back to licking her, one hand drifting down to squeeze my erection as the other hand lifted her thigh over my shoulder, opening her even further to me as she moaned and grasped the sheets in her tight fists.

"Please," she pleaded, panting heavily, "Please...give me more..."

Hearing the desperation in her voice slayed me. She could ask me to rip off my own arm in that voice and I'd happily comply.

"Isabella," I groaned, "You have no idea what it does to me when you beg. Do it again."

I trailed my hands up her thighs, barely touching her, steeling my resolve for what I was about to do.

Suddenly, her hand whipped out and grasped mine.

I froze in shock as her warm fingers wrapped around my cold ones, pulling my hand up her body to where she wanted it, pressing it against her desperately, urging me inside.

"I need you," she begged, her voice strained and urgent. "Please...I need to feel you inside me..."

Jesus.

Her need plowed through me, igniting me so my need matched hers. I needed to pleasure her, to satisfy her. I needed to bring her the release she so desperately craved.

I steadied myself, reining in my lusty enthusiasm as I gently...ever so gently pushed my fingers inside her.

Sweet heaven.

I closed my eyes and just breathed through the glorious sensation of her surrounding me.

So soft. So very, very soft.

I started moving my fingers slowly, monitoring every ounce of pressure I was putting on her delicate flesh. I curled my fingers inside her, finding the spot that elicited the world's most delectable moans.

As if on cue a loud groan burst out of her, and I could feel her tense around me, her face frowning and expectant, her body coiling like a spring.

"Yes, Isabella," I rasped as I watched her in rapt fascination, "Moan for me...tell me what I do to you. Describe your pleasure."

"Oh...God," she groaned as I moved faster, and I echoed her desire, my body tensing and tightening, contracting in response to her impending release. "Oh, fuck...yes...please...I'm so close...keep going...please...ah...Jesus, yes!"

I added a fraction more pressure, knowing she was teetering on the edge. I moaned as I brought my mouth back down to her astounding sweetness, guarding my teeth as I sucked and licked her. I was rewarded with the incredible sensation of her muscles quivering as she moaned through her orgasm.

"Oh...fuck...yes!"

I kept moving my fingers as her whole body tensed, her head pushing back strongly in the pillow as she gasped and spasmed.

I'd never seen anything more magnificent in my whole existence.

"Yes, Isabella," I sighed in satisfaction, "That's it. Let the pleasure take you. You're so magnificent when you come – primal and radiant."

She continued to writhe as the last pulses of her orgasm rocketed through her, her heart pounding fast and heavy, her blood exploding through her veins, causing my mouth to fill with venom and a low growl to rumble out of me.

Instinctively I brought my forearm up to my face, groaning as the overwhelming urge to bite her was circumvented by my teeth sinking into my own flesh. My body and mind was bombarded with cyclonic waves of conflicting desires. My throat burned as venom pumped into my blazing arm, and the ravenous hunger inside me screamed in frustration because I was denying it the glory of the blood pumping mere inches away from me. My dick throbbed desperately as Isabella's orgasm faded, but deep down inside me, a small kernel of satisfaction swelled with pride that I had once again brought this magnificent creature pleasure without spilling an ounce of her precious blood.

Finally, my jaws unlocked and I collapsed back onto my heels, gasping with relief and pain as I saw a look of supreme contentment settle on Isabella's beautiful face.

"I knew it would be like this with you," I panted quietly, stroking her leg gently with the hand that wasn't currently being engulfed by fire from my venom, "from the very first moment I caught your scent, I knew you had ruined me for anyone else. And I knew you would feel it too. I don't know why but our bodies call to each other, Isabella, beckoning us to be together. It's inevitable - fated. "

She sighed deeply, her body becoming heavy with satisfaction, her face turning towards me as I whispered thoughts that she'd never really hear, admitting things that shamed me to reveal in the light.

"But I can't have you in the daylight, so I'll settle for being with you in the darkness, grasping at you in the shadows where I can touch you and taste you without you running from me."

She sighed again, a breathy contented sound that briefly made me forget about the acid flames eating at my body. I stood and scooped her up in my arms, placing her back under her sheets, naked and beautiful in the ghostly half-light.

"Sleep now, Isabella."

"Thank you," she muttered lazily as unconsciousness finally took her.

"You're welcome," I whispered as I bent to brush my lips across her forehead.

It was such a simple gesture, a gentle hush of my lips on her skin, but at that moment a knot of emotion stirred inside me, fixing me to the spot, forbidding me to step away.

Suddenly, I didn't want to crawl back out the window into the night. I wanted to stay with her, breathing in her air, warming my skin with hers.

Obviously some part of her unconscious brain wanted the same thing because as I reluctantly started to retreat, her hand reached out and grabbed my shirt.

"No...stay," she slurred, barely audible.

She tugged weakly at my shirt and although the pressure was barely enough to stretch the fabric, in my mind it was as inexorable as a steel cable.

I lay down beside her, gently pushing my arm under her head. She automatically turned her body to mine, one arm draping over my chest and settling her hand over the silent cavity of my heart.

I closed my eyes and imagined that she knew I was there. That she consciously chose me, and wanted to be with me.

I sighed and pulled her closer to me, determined to ignore my gnawing hunger and steal as much time as possible with her before the lightening grey of morning forced me to leave.

Two hours.

Two hours to a vampire is nothing. It's a millisecond. A brief flicker of movement on the giant clock hands of eternity.

However, two hours lying next to the woman whose blood was made for me, whose smell dredged up the most compulsive and primal desires I've ever had, was the equivalent of several tortured lifetimes.

I lay there, muscles locked in desperate inaction as images of what my inner beast would like to do to Isabella blasted through me.

She had snuggled into me, her head on my chest, her hand intermittently clutching and releasing my shirt, making the skin beneath it blaze and prickle under her touch. Her warm, sweet breath surrounded me, making every part of me scream out for her.

I clenched my hands so savagely that my fingernails broke through the skin on my palms, and even then, the pain it caused couldn't distract me from the all-consuming hunger that shrieked through my body like a crazed psychopath.

And yet, there was nowhere else in the world I would rather be right now.

God, I was so screwed.

It was getting overwhelming. My control was slipping, slowly and surely. Every swallow of venom dragged me closer to doing whatever it took to quench the inextinguishable fire in my throat and gut, and to make matters worse, Isabella could feel it too.

She was moving against me, groaning and growling in time with the dark, feral images slithering through my brain, playing out the torture of my mind in her unconscious body.

I had to go. I couldn't let myself affect her like this. She should never have to experience this kind of torment. It was bad enough that I had to endure it. I was redefining the zenith of selfishness by staying beside her and forcing her to feel my agony.

Oh, who do you think you're kidding, Cullen? Part of you is desperately holding onto the bleak hope that she will choose this lifestyle one day so you can walk off into the undead sunset with her. She'll have to endure it then whether she likes it or not.

I squeezed my eyes shut, as if that could block out the reality of my darkest fantasy.

I had vowed never to change a human, knowing what hell awaited them when they turned, and yet I couldn't deny that part of me didn't care, that I wanted...no...needed Isabella to share my anguish. Never before had I seriously contemplated drawing someone else into my twisted existence, but with her...the possibility was never far from my mind.

I was officially the world's biggest asshole.

I unlocked my muscles and rolled Isabella away from me, easing myself off the bed carefully and standing above her.

A frown formed on her face as her hands moved over the now-empty bed, searching for me, finding nothing and tightening in frustration.

I'm sorry, Isabella. I'm not strong enough. I'll try harder tomorrow night.

I felt something underfoot and picked up her discarded pajamas, bringing them to my face and inhaling their excruciating musk one last time before dropping them back to the floor. The crotch of my pants tightened instantly.

I groaned in disgust as my inner perv urged me to steal them. That way I could keep her scent with me and abuse myself during the daytime hours as well.

Apparently I had nothing better to do with my time than obsess over a beautiful girl and whack off. Obviously I was hitting puberty ninety years later than every other man on the planet. Excellent.

I kicked the pajamas away from me and moved towards the window.

As much as I wanted to stay, it was just too hard, for both of us. Her blood was lacerating me and in turn, my agony was empathetically torturing her. It was one giant cycle of pain and I had to break it.

I had one leg out of the window when Isabella started to scream - a wild, tearing shriek that ripped from her chest and made my skin crawl. In a flash I was beside her, stroking her face and trying to calm her down, grateful that her father was working the night shift and didn't hear the sound of his daughter screaming blue murder.

"Ssshh, Isabella," I whispered as the scream continued, churning my guts with its intensity, "You're fine. It's just a dream. Ssshhh..."

I kept stroking her face, trying to soothe her rapidly overheating skin with my cool fingers.

She sat up suddenly, gasping for air and grabbing for me.

Before I knew what was happening, her hand reached out and cupped my face at the same time as her eyes flew open.

Oh, Jesus.

She's awake.

She's awake and looking right into my eyes.

Panic overtook me, and in a millisecond I was out the window and into my tree, pure pounding terror thundering inside me as I gripped the rough bark and pressed myself back into the inky shadows.

She saw me.

Jesus Christ, how could I be so damn stupid?

Every other night I pleasured her and left.

Quick. Easy. Simple.

Then tonight I let the gravity of my loneliness convince me to stay with her, and look what happens. She saw me. She saw me and now everything is ruined.

Fuck.

Isabella's bedroom light switched on, and I could see her gasping and looking around frantically. Her eyes flickered to the open window and I pressed myself even further into the darkness. She walked over to it, gloriously and unashamedly naked, placing her hands on the sill and looking out into the night.

"Hello?"

I swallowed heavily.

Hello, Isabella. I'm Edward. I pleasure you nightly and fantasize about drinking your blood. How are you?

She shook her head and laughed, moving away from the window as she muttered, "Fucking hell, Swan, you are really losing your mind, aren't you?"

I smiled at her self-deprecation.

I've lost my mind too, Isabella. See? We're perfect for each other. Please let me bite you.

I watched as she collected her pajamas from the floor and started to pull on her t-shirt.

I exhaled an enormous sigh of relief.

That was close. I can't afford to be so careless again.

Suddenly she ripped off the t-shirt and held it to her face, inhaling deeply. She pulled it away and looked at it incredulously before sniffing it again.

No, no, no, no...

"He's real," she whispered in disbelief.

...

...

...

I stalked through my vast, empty house like a caged animal, furious with myself for allowing her to see me, for robbing myself of the chance to continue seeing her.

Stupid, Cullen. Selfish and careless and stupid.

What are you going to do now?

You can't go back there. She'll be sleeping with one eye open from now on. She's probably keeping her father's shotgun beside her bed so she can blast your face off next time she sees you. And you know what? You deserve it. Idiot.

I bounded up the stairs to my bedroom, ripping off my shirt as I went, pausing briefly to savor the faint hint of her smell lingering in the fabric before throwing it into the hamper. As usual my whole body exploded in response – muscles tightening, jaw clenching, venom dripping.

I wrenched off my shoes and socks and threw them into my closet, slamming the doors so violently the wood splintered and cracked.

Great. Another reason for Esme to kick my ass.

I sat on the edge of my leather couch, dropping my head into my hands and tugging angrily on my hair as I tried to comprehend the consequences of my stupidity.

I couldn't touch her anymore.

I couldn't crawl into her room every night and satiate one small fraction of my desire for her.

I couldn't watch her face as my fingers brought her to release.

"ARRRRGGH!"

I flopped back into soft leather, dropping my head back as I scrubbed my face with my hands in frustration.

I could still smell her on my fingers.

Jesus Christ.

My body was already blazing, but smelling her sweet musk threw gas on the inferno.

I wrenched open my jeans, pulling them and my boxers off quickly before settling back into the leather and closing my eyes.

My dick had been hard and aching all night, and I figured that fucking my hand was probably a better option than relieving my frustration by further destroying Esme's precious house.

As soon as my hand closed around my erection, a favorite fantasy sprang to life behind my eyes.

Isabella was here, in my room. Naked and wanting me. She looked at me with unbridled desire, like I was magnificent. Perfect. She walked towards me slowly, grazing her hands over her breasts and stomach.

"Edward," she breathed as she sank to her knees in front of me, "I've been waiting for you. It's always been you. Even before I met you. Always."

God yes. I'm the one. The only one who burns like this for you. The only one who is consumed and incinerated by you. Touch me. Please...please touch me.

She looked at me with raw, animal need...pressing her soft lips to my thighs, brushing her hands over my blazing cold skin, fulfilling every single expectation of how having her hands on me would make me feel.

My throat burned, but the pain was dwarfed by the roaring ache in my loins. I gripped myself harder, the pulsing need inside me growing stronger with every pass of my fingers over the engorged muscles.

I groaned as the image of her lowering her mouth around me synchronized with my hand moving firmly up and down my length, pumping the hard flesh as I fantasized about warm lips and soft tongue.

Yes, Isabella. God. Just like that.

She gripped the base of my arousal and stroked me as her warm, wet mouth enveloped me.

I know this can never happen, but dear God, I want it to. I ache to feel you take me into your mouth, your soft throat dragging me towards ecstasy.

I squeezed my eyes tighter and tried to imagine it was her hand and not my own moving over my desperate flesh, squeezing and stroking as jolts of pleasure started building up inside me.

She's so beautiful. So warm. So soft.

I moved my fist faster, picturing Bella's face as my building orgasm was echoed in her, her eyes widening, searching out mine as the coiling tension in my muscles was reflected in her body.

"Isabella...God, yes. Oh, Jesus...Isabella..."

She panted and moaned as all my muscles tightened, my abdomen contracting and trembling as I thrust myself desperately into my hand. Her hand.

"Come for me, Edward," she whispered breathlessly, and that was all I needed to unravel completely. The razor-wire of tension inside me snapped, releasing blasting shards of pleasure that tore through me.

I let out a massive groan as I came furiously, tension and frustration streaming out of me in excruciating bursts, taking the edge off the crawling unease that had been infesting me since Isabella had seen me.

Sharp points of light exploded behind my closed lids, but all I could see was her face – smiling and radiant – looking at me with such...satisfaction. I could imagine that was how I looked after I had brought her to orgasm.

"Jesus Christ," I panted as the fantasy evaporated and I opened my eyes to an empty room.

Alone again.

As usual.

I slumped heavily into the soft leather as the remnants of my orgasm shuddered through my body, and then I reluctantly padded into the bathroom and turned on the shower.

I cringed slightly as I stepped beneath the spray and lathered up, realizing that I was washing her scent off me, perhaps for the last time.

My stomach churned at the thought, and my mind raced, desperate to find some solution to the unacceptable situation I found myself in.

I came up with nothing

I gripped the faucet viciously as I turned it off, swearing quietly as I realized that my fingers had left indentations in the shiny chrome.

Dammit, Cullen, would you stop it? Esme is going to kill you when she sees all this damage.

I grabbed a towel and dried myself roughly before pulling on some boxers and flopping back down onto the couch, throwing an arm over my eyes and wishing for the innumerable time in my existence that I could sleep and block out the world for a few short hours.

I had no idea what I was going to do.

I couldn't risk her seeing me again, and yet I knew with no doubt or uncertainty that I couldn't stay away from her. I'd only been away from her for an hour and already my anxiety levels were going through the roof.

I needed to do something. I just had no idea what.

I started pacing, briefly noting that the orange-grey streaks of dawn were slowly crawling over the horizon.

A new day.

Another opportunity for God to screw me mercilessly.

Excellent.

My muscles burned as I ran, pushing my body through the dense undergrowth like it wasn't even there. I could feel branches and leaves snatching and grabbing at me as I passed, catching and tearing my clothes but I didn't care. I only cared about one thing at the moment.

Her.

My screaming body didn't matter.

My torn clothes didn't matter.

My roaring hunger didn't matter.

I just needed to get back to her. Now.

Every second that passed without her scent in my nostrils was a second too damn long.

Three days I had lasted without her. Three days of roaming the forests of southern Canada like a deranged madman, alternating between fits of pathetic self-loathing and violent frustration. I left a trail of destruction in my wake, feeding ferociously, taking out my ire on trees and boulders and anything else that got in my way as I tried to rampage Isabella out of my system.

It was useless.

Nothing distracted me. Everything annoyed me.

I wanted her and everything that wasn't her was simply aggravating.

Well, no more.

I needed to see her. To smell her.

Even if she doesn't see me, I need to be in her presence.

My body exploded with fresh vigor at the thought and my legs propelled me faster than I had ever gone before.

I blazed with anticipation; a deep, clawing compulsion yawning inside me like a hungry bear. The decision to not deny myself any longer made me dizzy...buoyant, and I leapt a wide river easily, barely breaking my stride as I landed lightly on the other side.

I knew I should stop and feed, but I couldn't. The overwhelming compulsion to see her wouldn't let me. A steel cable of need had attached itself to my chest and was dragging me back to her.

I laughed as I ran.

What would she think if she knew how much of a slave I was to her? Women like dedicated men, right? They like to know they're the most important thing in a man's world. Of course, my level of dedication was more akin to deranged stalking and most people would have probably slapped me with a restraining order by now...if they could find me of course.

I wondered idly if she had been trying to find me. Had she told her father about me? Her boyfriend? Had she confided to anyone that a strange man had been in her bedroom?

I hoped not. I hoped that I wouldn't arrive at her house and find a lynch mob with flaming torches and pitchforks, although knowing my luck, that's exactly what I'd find.

I blasted through the woods, recognizing the familiar landscape of Forks, and I silently rejoiced that I would soon see her.

I slowed my pace as I came closer to her house, a dizzying flood of relief washing over me as I picked up the first hints of her scent. I gulped down huge lungfuls of air, savoring every sweet stab of sensation that lanced through me.

I moved towards my tree, feeling a strange sense of home settle over me as it came into view. I patted its trunk affectionately as I heard voices coming from the kitchen.

Isabella.

Her voice invaded my brain and I moaned quietly as my body roared with desperation.

I knew she was downstairs, but before I saw her I needed to do something.

I quickly leapt up to her window and stepped inside, closing my eyes as I drew in a gut-wrenching breath of her undiluted scent.

"Oh, dear God," I murmured as I fell to my knees, my body quaking violently as the tectonic plates of everything she meant to me rumbled into a new position.

I sat there and tried to breathe steadily. I failed miserably.

My throat was so swollen with need I could barely swallow. Venom flooded my mouth over and over again as images of her, naked and throbbing with sweet blood rocketed through my brain.

It was the most devastating torment I had ever experienced.

I'd really missed it.

Taking one more unsteady breath I rose to my feet.

I walked over to her unmade bed and looked at it like it was a shrine.

As I listened I could hear Isabella's voice rise in anger.

"Jacob Black, you know I hate crowds, you know I hate loud music, you KNOW I fucking hate fairytales – now explain to me why the hell you thought this would be a good idea on any level?"

Poor Jake. Still unable to please your woman, huh? So sad.

I hesitated for a second before lying face down on Isabella's bed, stretching my body over the spot where her body usually lay while I grasped her pillow and shoved my face into it. My whole body blazed with desire and I moaned as I ground my erection into her scent-soaked mattress.

Ahhh! Heaven.

My creepy stalker moment was cut short when I heard Jacob's voice ring out, hard and angry.

"Because, Bella, I wanted to take my girlfriend out and do something interesting and fun. I wanted to get us out of this goddamn house for once and go somewhere we've never been before. I KNOW you don't like crowds or dressing up or loud music, but guess what? I do. I've spent two fucking years doing things you want to do. How about you park your fucking selfishness for five seconds and do something I want to do?"

In a flash I was standing outside the kitchen window, trying to find reasons why I shouldn't fucking rip his head off for talking to her like that. A blast of his aggravating stench hit me and my fury boiled even further. I wanted to tear his throat out so desperately I could almost taste it.

My fists balled at my sides as I watched Isabella's beautiful face flicker with pain and disappointment, before she apologized to him.

I grunted in frustration.

Don't apologize to him! He's an idiot. A clueless oaf who's so incredibly unworthy of you, it boggles my mind why you allow him to even stand in your presence.

Apparently he took her apology as an open invitation to molest her because in a flash he had her pushed up against the kitchen counter, kissing her sloppily and crushing his huge body to hers.

Bastard. Don't fucking touch what's mine.

Jealousy blasted through me like napalm, crawling across my usually cold skin and making me burn with fury.

He lifted her up and clumsily put her on the table, pawing at her with his huge unskilled hands as he rubbed himself against her like a filthy dog. Isabella mumbled some completely unconvincing encouragement to him and my anger flared again.

How can she lower herself to let him touch her like that when she KNOWS how unsatisfying it is? How much more her body is capable of feeling? With me. Only ever with me.

I was so distracted by my rage and the infuriating noises coming out of Jacob that I didn't realize I had moved forward until I looked up to see Isabella's shocked eyes locked onto mine.

Dammit all to hell! Not again!

I jumped up into the nearest tree, digging my fingers into the hard wood as I cringed in frustration.

Seriously, Cullen. You can NOT be THAT goddamn clueless. Part of you wants her to see you. Don't even think about trying to deny it.

Isabella burst out of the house and scanned the woods, looking for me, calling out for me, her idiot boyfriend not even an afterthought as she searched for the person she really wanted touching her.

I wanted...no, I needed to be the one touching her.

"Hello?" she called desperately.

I wanted to answer her. If I thought for one second that I could go to her – show her my face and have her not turn away in horror – I would. As it was I clung to the tree and pressed my forehead into the rough bark, grateful for the pain it brought me.

Eventually she relented and let Jacob lead her back inside.

I closed my eyes and sighed.

Keeping myself away from her was exhausting.

I stayed there for a few minutes, listening as she wheeled out the migraine excuse again and sent Jacob on his way. Knowing that he wouldn't be accosting her tonight at least gave me some small feeling of relief. If I couldn't do it, then he sure as hell shouldn't be able to either.

I dropped out of the tree and walked into the woods, thinking I had time to quickly hunt before coming back to watch Isabella sleep. I resigned myself to the fact that I was once again banished to my tree. Two close calls in a matter of days was enough for me. Perhaps one day I would be ready to face her, but not today.

I was a few hundred yards away from the house when I heard it – clumsy footsteps moving behind me...following me.

I sniffed the air.

It was her.

Panic flew inside my chest like a startled bird. I couldn't let her see me. I wasn't ready. I hadn't hunted. My clothes were ripped and torn, and I was caked in dirt and blood. I looked like something out of a horror movie.

Let's face it, I was something out of horror movie. There weren't too many romantic comedies made about vampires.

I moved faster, trying to leave her behind, but I could still hear her, stumbling through the darkness, her breathing excited and uneven as she followed my path unerringly.

My anger flared.

What the hell does she think she's doing? She has NO IDEA who she's chasing into the dark, isolated woods. What if I was a serial killer who wanted to rape and murder her?

Um...strike that.

What if she got lost? What if my control snaps and I hurt her?

Dammit. Does she have absolutely no sense of self-preservation AT ALL?

I strode back towards her, determined to at least lead her out of the woods and make sure she made it home in one piece.

Suddenly I heard her cry out.

I rushed towards her instinctively, desperate to see if she was all right.

Bad move.

She was bleeding.

As soon as I caught her scent, I froze. The devastating power of her blood slammed into me like a nuclear shock-wave, ripping away all my good intentions in a second and leaving behind only a slavering, ravenous beast, gnashing at the few threads of self-restraint that tethered me to the spot, frantically gripping the last few grains of my humanity.

A low predatory growl ripped out of me.

The night noises around me were instantly silenced.

Every creature nearby knew that I was about to lose control. Every creature except the beautiful brunette who was now running her delectable tongue across her bleeding palm.

She looked around, searching the darkness for me. I stood perfectly still, pushing down the overwhelming compulsion to grasp her hand and bring her oozing wound to my hungry mouth.

I wouldn't kill her. I'd just suck her blood. For a few hours.

"I know you're there," she called nervously.

You have every right to be nervous, Isabella. I'm craving your blood so fiercely I can almost feel the coppery taste of it on my tongue. If you know what's good for you, you'll turn and run, and if you're very, very lucky, I won't chase you.

"I know you're real," she called, defiantly, "I saw you."

No. You saw a pair of eyes. You saw a shadow. A phantom. You didn't see the real me. If you did, you wouldn't have chased me into this seductively secluded location.

"You've got a hell of a nerve coming into my bedroom like that. My father is the fucking Chief of Police in case you didn't know."

I couldn't help the chuckle that rumbled out of me. She was so incredibly feisty, even when her life was hanging by a thread.

"As if he could stop me," I responded, automatically circling her...stalking her.

Her head snapped around, pinpointing the direction of my voice. I immediately dashed to another location.

"Who are you?"

I'm death, Isabella. I'm a destroyer of life. A parasite who needs to kill to live.

"You don't want to know," I replied, fully realizing how incredibly unworthy I was to even contemplate a future with her. It was ridiculous. A pathetic, desperate fantasy.

"I do want to know," she replied softly, "I've never wanted to know something so much in my life."

I felt like I had been hit by lightning.

She wanted to know me? Impossible.

"If you knew who I was, Isabella, you would run screaming back to your father and pray to God I never came near you again," I said as the painful shards of truth in my words sliced through my persistent hope.

A look of steely determination furrowed her brow.

"You obviously don't know me very well," she challenged, "I don't scare that easily."

Obviously, otherwise you wouldn't be conversing with a mass murderer in the darkness.

"Oh, I know you, Isabella," I said, remembering her pliant body shuddering beneath my fingers, "I know you better than you know yourself."

Her heart-rate sped up.

Did she know what I was thinking?

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Apparently not.

I sighed in frustration. I unlocked my muscles and pushed down the beast inside me, searching for the man I used to be, the one who was desperately lonely, and hoped against hope that this remarkable woman might offer me some measure of salvation.

"Do you know how long I've been waiting for you?" I asked softly, forcing open the cold, rusty locker of my heart for the first time in my existence, "How many years I've longed for you?"

She closed her eyes and swayed slightly, as if my words somehow soothed her.

"Tell me," she whispered.

Those two tiny words exploded in my mind, destroying any and all of my reservations. She wanted to know and I wanted to tell. God, I needed her to know me, even if she rejected me. Even if it was wrong. I needed her to fully understand exactly who I was.

What I was.

"I've been fantasizing about you for decades, Isabella," I said, breathing in her scent with the mossy coolness of the forest, "Dreaming about you, certain that the very idea of you was a myth. That was before you moved here to live with your father, before I saw you for the first time...before I smelled you."

I had heard about Singers many times over the years, but I doubted I would ever meet one, let alone one who called to me.

"Where did you see me?"

"In the mountains. You were hiking with your idiot boyfriend. You came across a meadow and stopped for lunch. My meadow. The one place that calms me."

I hadn't been back there since. I had enough trouble getting pornographic images of Isabella out of my mind without revisiting the place where it all began.

"You were there?" she asked incredulously.

"Yes."

"Watching?"

"Yes."

"Watching as Jake and I..."

"Yes, Isabella."

Her breathing was quickly devolving into shallow, uneven panting.

Was she appalled at the thought that I watched her, or excited?

I went on to tell her how I had watched her and Jacob. How magnificent she was. How the sight of her glistening, naked body had affected me. Through it all she listened silently, her ragged breathing and rapid heart-rate the only indication that she was processing what I was saying.

"Eventually I couldn't endure it anymore," I rasped as I recalled how close I had been to ripping out her throat. "I ran for miles until the uncontrollable lust you caused me abated."

I neglected to tell her that I had proceeded to abuse myself shamefully on the shores of Puget Sound and screamed to the sky as orgasmed violently.

"What were you doing there?" she asked, confusion in her voice.

"Hunting."

"It's wasn't hunting season."

A bitter laugh burst out of me.

If that were true, my life wouldn't be ruled by my omnipresent hunger.

"Every season is hunting season for me, Isabella."

She gasped slightly.

Did she understand the meaning of the subtext beneath my words? Could she deduce that I wasn't a man to be trusted? That I was a man at all?

She needed to understand, because the thudding of her heart was inflaming me beyond all reason.

"Lord...that sound," I rasped, "That sound makes me want to do unspeakable things to you, Isabella. Do you realize that?"

She frowned slightly.

"What sound?"

I swallowed a rush of venom before I could speak.

"Your heart. The way is sounds right now is exactly how it sounds when my hands are on your body - strong and pendulous and wet."

I could hear my voice darkening with desire, and her racing pulse told me that she had also become aroused.

Did she remember the feeling of my hands on her skin?

The sharp tang of her blood invaded me, and I was reminded that she was bleeding. Without realizing it, I started moving towards her.

"You're hurt."

I stopped inhaling, hoping to shut down my body's reaction to her, but really only trapping the sweet agony of her scent inside me.

"I'm fine."

She was nervous. She had good reason to be. I wanted to eat her.

"You're bleeding."

"It's nothing."

I laughed and told her how foolish she was for taking her vibrant, remarkable blood for granted. That I too had been blasé about my mortality until it was ripped from me.

She searched the shadows for me again, but I was determined to not be seen.

"I don't understand," she said to the darkness.

"Good," I said firmly, "you shouldn't."

She should never have to understand the torment I endured on a daily basis.

She swallowed loudly before whispering, "How long have you been coming into my bedroom?"

And there it is. The question that will expose the vastness of my perversion.

Well, I'm going to hell anyway. I might as well do it thoroughly.

In a flash I was standing behind her, her hair brushing my throat as a slight breeze wrapped around us.

"Don't turn around," I ordered.

I could feel her whole body tense in front of me, but she didn't turn.

Good, Isabella. If you do as you're told, we might both get out of here without me doing something we'll both regret.

"The first night I came to your window was the day I saw you in the meadow," I said softly, trying to resist pushing my nose into her hair and inhaling. "Your scent led me there – pungent and distinctive – chaining me to you like I was your slave, making me grateful for every sweet breath that tumbled out of your lungs as you slept...for every tiny moan and sigh as you dreamed."

She inhaled sharply, "But that was four months ago."

Four long, torturous months, actually. Months where I went insane with the need to touch you, and now here you are...conscious and warm and close.

I couldn't resist trailing a finger gently up her arm. She gasped loudly but didn't move away.

"Three months, twenty-seven days, and eight hours, actually," I said as calmly as I could, considering an electrical current strong enough to power a small city was transferring from her satin skin into my finger.

I told her how I had graduated from merely watching her, to needing to be closer, surrounded and infused by her scent. I told her how devastated I was the first time I stepped into her room, finally being exposed to her potent, undiluted aroma.

"It pummeled me like a hurricane," I said, being brutally honest, "perfecting me and shredding me at the same time. Demolishing every notion I'd had about myself - disassembling the carefully constructed bricks and mortar of my pointless existence in a single pulverizing blow."

I laid everything out for her, unable to stop the floodgates of truth as my fingers found more of her flesh, lighting a fire beneath my skin.

"I knew then that you had doomed me. Without even knowing it, you had broken the cast-iron will I had been cultivating for innumerable years. My solitude was my armor, and in one fell-swoop you had ripped it from me."

My fingers found her throat, and I was instantly hypnotized by the violent throbbing of her pulse. It was mesmerizing.

I went on to tell her how much I hated her at first for torturing me with her blood and body; how frustrated and jealous I was that she allowed the dim-witted Jacob access to her exquisite anatomy when he was obviously clueless as to what to do with it.

I pulled her hair away from her shoulder, and before I realized what I was doing, my lips were pressing down on her soft skin, a jolt of blazing desire thundering through me as I inhaled sharply.

My entire body was thrumming with lust. She was listening to what I had to say and she wasn't running from me. My hands and lips were on her body and she wasn't cringing in disgust. In fact, her body was thrilling to my touch, her arousal obvious.

Her reaction emboldened me and I dared to wrap one arm around her waist, pulling her back into my body so she could feel how she affected me.

I bit down on my lip as her bottom collided with my erection. I knew she felt it because a low moan came out of her, and suddenly she was pushing herself back into me, grinding against me; circling her hips and causing the beast inside me that wanted to fuck her on the spot to bellow in desperation.

I moaned loudly as I tried to maintain control.

"Stop," I said as I gripped her hips, trying not to be too rough but failing. "Isabella, the smell of your arousal is so strong...so gut-wrenchingly enticing, that you do not want to be doing anything at the moment that challenges my control."

I took a deep breath and pushed down the beast's desires, loosening my hands and hoping to God she realized how fiercely I was trying not to hurt her.

"You have no idea what a dangerous game you're playing here, Isabella," I said, my jaw hard and tense, "If you did, you wouldn't be so blasé about risking your life. Did you even consider the consequences of plunging into the woods alone this evening? Did you think for one second that the man who has been stalking you while you sleep may not be the type of person you should pursue...or be alone with...or rub up against?"

I dropped my head down, suddenly exhausted, and I couldn't help running my nose along her jugular, moaning at the sweet temptation just beneath the surface.

"Did you even consider the possibility that I'm a bad man, Isabella? That I've done vicious, heinous things in my life? That I've destroyed more lives that I can bear to recall? Did none of those things cross your mind before you stumbled into the darkness to find me?"

"You won't hurt me," she said breathlessly, her body tense and stiff beneath my hands.

Such an unrealistic optimist.

"You don't know that," I whispered into her throat, prickles of need crawling over my skin, "You can't possibly comprehend how delicately your life hangs in the balance whenever you're near me. If you did, you wouldn't still be here."

Her hand came up to cover my own, her warm dry palm covering my cold, dead hand. I gasped and closed my eyes. The feeling was unbelievable.

She was touching me. Without any begging or threatening, she chose to put her hand on mine.

"I trust you," she said with surprising confidence, "You've been coming into my room for months. If you'd wanted to hurt me you could have – many times. You didn't."

I almost laughed at her naiveté.

I didn't dare tell her how many times I had nearly killed her in those few months, how close I was to killing her right now. But I had to make her understand the dangers of being with me, if that's what she ultimately chose to do.

I could feel my control ripping and fraying in ways I couldn't control, and the dark, sadistic part of me wanted me to let go. To stop fighting. To be what I was.

I grazed my hand up her thigh, letting it gently come to rest between her legs. Her heart-rate pounded erratically.

God, I just wanted to rip the denim off of her and touch her velvet softness. My dick throbbed at the thought and my throat ached and burned.

"That doesn't mean you're safe with me, Isabella, or that I should continue my utter stupidity in allowing myself to the luxury of seeing you," I said, trying to keep my strength in check despite the fact that all I wanted to do was crush her to me. "Every second you're with me is a struggle...every touch, a test. If I stop monitoring my urges, even for a second, this situation between us could end very badly."

I was being so intensely careful to control myself, that I was taken aback when she reached behind her and put her hand on my thigh, moving it up to my erection quickly, stroking me though my pants.

Oh Jesus!

"I don't believe that would ever happen," she said confidently as she palmed me firmly.

Fuck!

The beast inside me roared to life, growling and tensing as pleasure pounded through me and venom flowed wildly. It only took me a second to have her pushed up against a tree and my hands were itching to shred her clothes so I could fuck away the pain she was causing me. The beast didn't care that she'd crumble under my strength. He didn't care that my mouth was aching for her blood. He didn't care about anything but having her – hard and fast and right the fuck now.

I groaned as I fought the dark desperate urges, and my anger flared because she didn't even have the goddamn presence of mind to be scared of me. Didn't she know what she was dealing with by now?

"What do I have to do to convince you that you shouldn't trust me, Isabella," I snarled, grinding into her, trying to resist crushing her. "Do I have to describe to you how many people I've murdered, ripping their throats out and feasting on them as their last drops of life ebbed out of them and into my mouth? Should I tell you about how every time I'm near you, the perverted, bloodthirsty monster inside me wants to drink you dry and then fuck your lifeless corpse? How does that sound, Isabella? Would that be enough to convince you not to trust me?"

I ground my aching erection into her back and she cried out in pain.

Good.

She needed to know what I could do to her, and at the moment I was beyond being able to not hurt her.

Wake up and smell the murderer, Isabella.

"You have NO idea what I'm capable of, Isabella. NONE. I'm not some nice guy who's going to show up with flowers and chocolates. I'm not going to recite poetry or whisk you away on my white horse. I'm a killer, Isabella...a monster...an abomination, and I have NO right being as selfish as I am and putting you in danger, because when I'm near you, my brain overloads with images of the things I want to do to you, and the things I'm DESPERATE to have you do to me, and not all of them are pretty, and it would take SO little for me to have a moment of weakness and for you to end up dead. So stop being so fucking naïve and start thinking about ways to bar your bedroom window against me, because if you don't, I'm afraid one night I won't be satisfied to only taste your skin, and on that night, you and I will both lose EVERYTHING."

I wrenched myself away from her before my jaws had a chance to clamp down on her neck.

I ran, desperate to get away from her and her body and her scent and the violent images coiling in my mind.

Goddammit.

I burned and ached. I wanted her. I couldn't have her. I needed her. I didn't deserve her.

I screamed in frustration as I sprinted back to my house, murder and sex and ripping scenes of ecstasy blasting through me like a cyclone.

I exploded through the front door without bothering to open it, my mind and body raging red, hot and unquenchable.

My fists pounded every surface they encountered. Venom sluiced from my snarling lips uncontrollably. My dick throbbed and ached and pleaded for desperate release, and the whole of my body felt like I had been doused in gasoline and set alight.

The rage continued to blast through me as my fists pulverized the granite work-tops in the kitchen, pieces of sharp stone blasting through the air like exploding shrapnel, burying themselves in furniture and plasterboard as I roared and raged uncontrollably.

Finally, the madness subsided and I slumped to the floor, shards of stone crunching beneath me as I dropped my head into my hands, exhausted and totally fucking drained.

I panted and sighed, trying to calm myself. Trying to find the human within the crazed beast.

I tugged on my hair until it hurt. I slowed my breathing. I opened my eyes and saw the mess of destruction I'd just caused.

Okay.

So.

That's how it feels to have a conversation with Isabella.

On the whole, I think it went well.

...

...

...

Author Notes

Aw, WindowWard, you sweet, deluded perv.

If you're enjoying this fic, please take a moment to leave WindowWard some love. He's desperately needy. Put a smile on his dial.

Thanks for reading,

Kiya x