Author's Note: Hey everyone! Sorry for the delay. My medical problem reared its ugly head again, and I needed to take a break. This was an incredibly fun chapter to write, though, and I'm excited to share it! Also - just as a heads up: this story is M rated, and this chapter definitely earns that rating.
Drop me a review and let me know what you think, and, as always, tell me if you notice any mistakes.
Have a great weekend!
-Rebecca
"So where is Edward now?" Angela asked.
Bella wrapped the cord of the hotel room phone around her finger anxiously as she spoke into the receiver. "He's just sitting in the parlor. Probably on the phone or something. He probably doesn't want to be bothered."
"If he didn't want to be bothered he wouldn't be sitting out there." Angela reasoned. "He's probably waiting for you to stop hiding and go talk to him."
"I'm not sure what to say," Bella said, lowering her voice even further as a precaution. She was sitting on the floor of the penthouse's smaller bedroom suite, with her legs stretched in front of her as she painstakingly painted her toenails scarlet red. Since she and Edward had returned to the suite after the rather awkward Cullen family lunch, Bella had been working her way down an increasingly unimportant to-do list.
She had promised herself that she was going to talk to Edward, but as her nerves got the best of her she had found herself putting it further and further off. She had successfully procrastinated until well into the evening. The sky had been darkening for several hours and now the glittering, frantic beauty of the Manhattan night skyline sprawled out far beneath the penthouse windows, and with each brush of wind the curtains fluttered and brought in the distant cacophony of the city's nightly bustle.
"Stop being such a coward." Angela groaned. "And stop overthinking everything. This is animal attraction, Bella. You'll kill it if you keep studying it. Just let go and see what happens."
"Easier said than done," Bella said, although she had no doubt that Angela wouldn't have had any reservations about putting her own advice into practice if their places had been reversed. Angela was all but fearless.
"Bella, he signed a freaking adultery clause, for god's sake. He must have something in mind. Now get off your ass and stop painting your toenails."
Bella froze with her left big-toe half done. "How do you know I'm painting my toenails? I never said."
"Please, I know your whole procrastination program." Angela scoffed. "Just like I know that before you painted your toenails you sorted your email inbox, and next you're going to clean out your purse."
"Wrong!" Bella exclaimed triumphantly. "I cleaned out my purse first. I was going to sort out my email inbox next."
"Bella! That's such a sad way to spend your first proper night as a married woman."
"You're right." Bella nodded emphatically, but she made no move to stand. Instead, she went back to her right foot and started adding a second coat of polish.
"Bella, listen to me: let your toenails dry, raid the minibar, run a bath, pour yourself a drink, take a nice long soak in the tub, then put on one of those nice hotel dressing gowns over some lingerie, and head out there to spend some quality time with your new husband. Got that? I can repeat it if you want to take notes."
Bella hesitated, her mouth slightly ajar. On one hand, the more cautious side of her was entirely intimidated by Angela's suggestion, but the other side of her, the side of Bella that had wanted Edward since the first day she saw him, felt a physical, visceral jolt. The jolt traveled lower, to the apex between her thighs, where a warm, molten hum began.
"I . . . I'll run a bath," Bella said finally, and there must have been something in her tone that told Angela that Bella meant it. Angela gave a low whoop on the other end of the phone. "Awesome! Tell me everything. Be safe! And tell me everything. And Bella, have a good time. Seriously, you deserve a good time after dating that worthless wastoid Mike for so long."
That was true.
Bella nodded to herself as she and Angela said their goodbyes.
"Text me later!" Angie said quickly as they hung up. "Bye!"
"Bye," Bella answered. She held the phone to her chest for a moment after the call ended, consumed with thoughts of what the evening might bring.
She ran the bath as if she were in a dream. The hotel had provided an assortment of luxury bath products, so Bella poured in some bubble-bath and then added a cherry-scented bath bomb for good measure. She decided not to have a drink - she felt intoxicated enough when she was around Edward - the last thing she needed was some alcohol to intensify the feeling.
Bella had to admit, there was something sexy about taking a bath. Back at the apartment Bella and Mike had shared, they'd had a tiny, cramped bathroom, and the tub had been an ancient thing, cracked and stained and infested with many different strains of mold. Bella hadn't even bothered attempting to take a bath there; she and Mike had limited themselves to showers and had felt much cleaner for it. But this tub was entirely different. It was an enormous, luxurious, claw-footed affair, and when it was completely full the water was up to Bella's chin.
Bella withdrew one arm from beneath the water, let the droplets run down her arm to her shoulder, and then reached behind her head and adjusted the mass of hair that she'd clipped back from her face. There was something so feminine about the feeling, something incredibly provocative.
Maybe too provocative. Somehow, Bella's plan to talk to Edward seemed to have morphed into a plan to seduce him. It was entirely out-of-character for Bella, and yet, the soft but insistent throbbing between her legs was undeniable. She wanted him desperately. With a groan, Bella sank deeper into the bath.
Bella drew out the soak for as long as she could, but eventually the water cooled, and she had to get out before her skin started to prune. The total silence from the rest of the penthouse felt oddly significant. It seemed intentional, like Edward was purposefully giving her space, waiting to see how she would proceed.
Bella toweled off and then pulled the hotel's deep red robe on over her bubble-bath scented skin. She debated the benefits of going commando with herself for a few minutes, but ultimately she chickened out and pulled on a pair of black panties. Bella knotted the robe firmly around her waist and then reached up and unclipped her hair, letting the mass of soft dark waves fall loosely around her face.
It seemed weird to put on makeup - it was late at night and she'd just taken a bath - so Bella smoothed on some vanilla lip balm and left the rest of her face bare. Her heart was thundering in her chest, and the silence beyond the bedroom door was at once enticing and terrifying. Bella took a deep breath and then opened the door.
Edward was sitting in a chair by the suite's electric fireplace. His black shirt was half-unbuttoned, so that the artificial flame-light played over the tan expanse of his chest. He was staring meditatively at the fireplace, with a half-full glass of some amber liquid held loosely in his hand. The other hand was clenched, as though whatever he contemplated was setting him on edge.
She must have made some noise when she opened the door, because Edward looked up immediately. Some of the tension drained from his face when he saw who it was, but then his gaze dipped low, sweeping over her freshly bathed body and taking in the robe she wore. He swallowed, and the rigidity returned to his jaw. His eyes glinted a darker green than usual as he gestured to the chair opposite him. "Bella." It was impossible to decipher the tone of his voice. "I was wondering if you were going to hide in there all night."
Bella moved closer, taking the seat opposite him and crossing her legs tightly, still all too mindful of the warm pulse between her thighs.
"I wasn't hiding," she murmured.
Edward didn't answer her, but he speared her with a gaze so disarming that Bella might as well have been naked. One glance from him and she felt as if she had been stripped. She looked away, avoiding his eyes.
Edward had taken his shoes off - all he wore on his feet were dark socks, and something about that made Bella smile. She realized that she had never seen him in socks before. There was something oddly endearing, amusingly unthreatening, about seeing the big bad mobster in his socks, enjoying a quiet night in. Then Bella caught a glint of metal from behind Edward, and she realized that he had put his guns on the side table, so that they were within easy reach. Still a big bad mobster after all.
Edward followed her gaze and smiled darkly. "I'm always prepared," he said, with a lazy shrug.
"Like a boy scout," Bella quipped, and then her blood thundered through her veins when he smirked in response, deliberately dragging his gaze over her body once more, even slower this time.
No. Most definitively not like a boy scout.
Bella was far too aware of the erotic brush of the soft robe over her bare thighs, of her scrap of lacy underwear, which was now damp with more than just water from the bath. She clenched her thighs together, but somehow that only made her more aware of the quivering knot of tension at her core.
He wanted her.
He wanted her, and she saw the exact moment that he let go of his own leash. She hardly even saw him stand, he moved so quickly, but suddenly he was towering over her, and then leaning down, his hands braced on the arms of her chair.
Bella froze. The sleek power of his body, the enormity of the situation, the intensity of her own desire, all took her by surprise. Edward's lips were parted as though he wanted to inhale her, to devour her.
He watched her through wild eyes, strands of bronze hair falling into his face, his breath coming fast, and then their lips met.
Bella didn't need to think. Her body took over, and the kiss was first tentative, hot and hesitant, then rougher, more desperate. Their breath mingled, her eyes fluttered closed, and one of his hands found her waist, the grip hard and insistent. As they kissed Bella stood, rising so that she could press her body more fully against his. She could already feel his arousal through his pants, like a rod of iron at her belly. His teeth grazed her lips and his fingers dug into her side, pulling her more tightly against him.
After a moment Edward pulled back, only a few inches, but enough for him to stare into her eyes. He was gauging her reaction, making sure that she wanted him too. Bella was swaying on her feet, dizzy and breathless with the taste of him. Her vision narrowed on the flicker of warm light over his harshly masculine jaw, over the lips that still glistened from their kiss, and the flash of his white teeth as he grinned savagely. She was heady with desire. Bella steadied herself with her hands on his shoulders, melting into his body, letting the warmth and firmness of his chest anchor her.
The next kiss was harder, fiercer.
Then his arms were shifting; one looped behind her shoulders and the other caught her behind the knees as he lifted her. Her robe slipped down off of one shoulder, the material sliding down to the top of her breasts, as Edward carried her into the penthouse's other bedroom.
The master bedroom was a corner room, and two of the four walls were made entirely of glass. Outside, the dark sky churned with storm clouds, and far below them the city seethed and pulsed with activity. Bella would have been worried about being seen, but the room was dark and it felt like they were miles above the rest of the world, at a level entirely their own.
It was sensory overload: the blur of the city lights gleaming through the glass, the soft sheets at her back as he eased her onto the bed, the tension that coursed through his body and thrummed against her skin. It was as if he were exercising all the control he had, as though he might lose his mind at any moment.
He pulled away from her for a minute, and Bella moaned in frustration as her hands clutched at thin air. She watched as he reached into his waistband and withdrew something hard and dark.
No, not that.
He was taking off the last of his guns; he put the weapon in the top drawer of the armoire and then turned back to her, his eyes dilated with passion.
For an instant, Bella wondered what she was thinking, opening herself to a man who was so feral that he wore weapons like clothes, shedding them only when he got into bed.
Then again, that hardness, that wildness, was part of what drew her to him. It was maddening. Edward turned back to her, climbing over her, mastering her. His shirt was off, revealing the hard planes of his chest, and Bella smoothed her hands over him eagerly, feeling his muscles flex and jump at the touch of her fingers.
Edward opened her robe easily, tugging it off of her in a few smooth motions. His lips found their way to her breasts, and Bella stifled a moan. The sheets tangled around them as they kissed each other, testing, exploring, teasing. Edward slid her panties off, and then Bella could feel him traveling down her body; his fingernails trailed down her bare stomach and she shivered when one of them brushed over her navel, and then continued down. His mouth followed his hands, and Bella's toes curled as she realized where he was headed.
She opened her mouth, intending to warn him that she wasn't quick to climax, and that he might find himself down there for some time. But as his fingers traced down her seam, spreading her, and his tongue just barely glanced off of the bud at her center, the words fled her lips entirely. She moaned, nearly lifting off the bed as her back and neck arched. Maybe it wouldn't take so long after all.
His tongue touched her once more like that, delicately, but her clit was so inflamed that the pleasure jolted through her. The coil of heat in her core twisted tighter, making her legs tremble with the intensity of her arousal.
Then his tongue stroked her again, dipping lower to trace the opening of her womanhood, tasting the wetness there before returning to her clit. His tongue circled her with a powerful rhythm that wound her whole body tighter with every rotation. Bella's core throbbed, and she kept moaning as the relentless twirl of his tongue over her clit pushed her closer and closer to the edge. She wanted him so badly, wanted everything from him.
She wanted Edward to bury himself in her; she wanted him to keep doing what he was doing forever. She lost all sense of time; her body was entirely at Edward's mercy, and he was working her over. The pleasure kept building, taking Bella farther than she had ever gone before - whenever she thought she was about to climax, Edward swirled his tongue in just the right way and drew the pleasure out.
Bella was murmuring things even she couldn't decipher, little pleading whispers that dissolved into moans as the pressure built within her. In the dark sky beyond the penthouse, the clouds must have shifted, because suddenly there was enough moonlight for Bella to make out Edward's face. Even now - especially now - he looked hungry, and Bella's breath caught when she saw the smirk that twisted his lips. He was grinning as he teased her, and somehow that was the fact that drove her over the edge. The coil worked itself tighter and tighter, and Bella shook uncontrollably as she finally lost control.
Shocks of pleasure rippled outward from her clit, and Bella cried out as her whole body was gripped by wave after wave of rapture.
When Bella came down from her climax, she had no sense of time, of how long they had been doing what they were doing.
Edward was kissing her bare body softly, trailing his lips over the delicate skin of her wrist. Bella felt oddly shy. Given what they had just done together it seemed a little late for that particular emotion, but Bella couldn't help it. She had been naked and exposed before him, physically and emotionally, and Edward had . . . Not been. In fact, somehow his pants were still on. Edward was still completely aroused, Bella could tell that much from the hardness that jutted into her thigh, through his pants. He was also breathing so heavily you might have thought that he was the one who had just gotten off.
What did this mean, anyway? Her euphoria dampened by a moment of anxiety, Bella could feel her tendency to overanalyze returning. And why wasn't he trying for anything more? She had climaxed, but he hadn't. Then again, in her first few, vulnerable moments post-orgasm she found herself oddly hesitant again, unsure whether she was relieved or disappointed that he wasn't making a move to take the next step.
"Bella?"
Edward's voice startled Bella. The heat had taken over so suddenly and so powerfully that words had seemed unnecessary.
Now, they were necessary again.
Time for that talk.
