Eleven

BPOV

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

The fear he felt completely melts from his body as I ask the question, leaving a wave of lust crashing over the both of us.

His head turns, and the softest lips ghost my skin.

Just once. Enough so that all I can think about is how I could wear him well.

He smiles and answers, his lips still brushing against me, "Yeah, I'd like that."

My mind begins to race, and I try to ignore all scenarios of what could happen.

You could seduce him.

You could drink from him.

You could kill him.

As quickly as the thoughts enter my head, I push them out. My plan to take things as they come, sex and a little snack are…optional.

"Isabella." My name is hissed from both of my sisters, their knowledge of how I enjoy myself at the forefront of their minds as they hear our intentions to leave.

Edward might be my cantante, and if he is my mate, he will survive leaving here with me.

He might lose a little blood in the process, but what good is putting the finest vintage in front of a wine connoisseur and telling them that they cannot drink it?

Exactly why I intend on tasting for myself.