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The muses of ice and of fire
Are attendant on Stephenie Meyer
We disclaim to infringe on her talents and rights
We only intend to admire.
Bella stood frozen, the sting of her cut fading into insignificance. Edward was mere inches away, looming over her, his eyes black and hot in his face as he gazed down at the bead of blood dripping slowly down her hand.
"Edward," she said quietly. Trying to sound disapproving and chastising, like he was a puppy who was contemplating stealing the roast off the counter. But her voice wavered.
He didn't look up from the steady slide of crimson across her skin.
He grasped her wrist in one cold, hard hand and brought her thumb up to eye level. He seemed to be breathing slow and deep, like he was trying to drag as much of her scent into his lungs as possible. His lips were set in a hard, cruel line.
A hungry line.
"Edward, stop," Bella whispered.
His eyes flashed up to hers once, then back to her hand. His lips parted with a slow, whisper-soft exhale, and his tongue peeked out to wet his lower lip. He pulled her hand to his mouth.
Touched that cool tongue softly to her index finger. Slid it along her knuckle and the web of her hand, moving towards the track of red that ran down her thumb. A sweet stab of lust arced through Bella's spine, pushing past her fear.
His eyes hit hers again. Making a low sound, he pulled her around and pushed her against the kitchen table. With a gasp Bella stumbled back, feeling the edge of the table hit her tailbone hard. The salt shaker trembled and fell.
He all but flung her hand away and covered her with his body. Grasped her hips roughly and ground his pelvis against hers. She was wet instantly, her body deprived of his for too long, her head falling back against the table. The plastic salad bowl fell with a clatter and a spray of lettuce and cucumbers. Bella reached up and clasped his neck, arching to kiss him, but he twisted his lips away from her with a silent grimace. He lifted her on one arm and slid his fingers under the elastic waistband of her shorts, pulling them and her panties down and off with a rough shove.
Terrified, elated, Bella pressed her face to his neck and allowed him to part her trembling legs. His fingers dove between her thighs and pressed upward into her hot, damp flesh. With a harsh inhalation he twisted two fingers high up into her like a screwdriver, making her cry out and squirm beneath him. Agonizing tremors raced across her limbs.
He withdrew his hand, and she almost screamed.
Chest heaving, his eyes black as pitch and his brows knitted in diabolical concentration, Edward raised his hand to his mouth and sucked his fingers clean. Bella whimpered and arched against him. He looked like a fallen angel, testing the blood of some poor sinner recently consigned to his dungeon. Sampling her.
When he had licked every trace of her essence from his fingers, he reached down and plunged into her again. Bella curled her toes around the backs of his calves, desperate sounds of frustrated desire escaping from her throat.
"Be very still," he whispered, withdrawing his hand and cleaning it thoroughly with his tongue again. "Don't move a muscle. Okay?"
Whimpering, frightened and beyond turned on, Bella nodded.
Slowly, as if testing himself, Edward withdrew his arm from around her hips and slid down to kneel on the floor. He stared at the hot, wet secret part of her that was so aching for him with something akin to fascination. His hands kneaded her knees gently.
"Aiutami, Dio," he whispered pensively, then touched the very tip of his tongue to her clit.
Bella's legs tensed. She fought not to arch or tremble. His control was hanging by a thread, and she had no idea if the next touch of his lips would bring pleasure or pain.
He withdrew by inches, then leaned into her again, pressing the flat of his tongue to her apex. Dragging it upward tortuously slowly. Bella moaned and closed her eyes.
"Quiet," he admonished.
Gradually, reluctantly, her fear faded. The ravenous desire that he seemed to have for her feminine excretions was kept tightly leashed, at least for now. His tight, tense shoulders relaxed and the cold hands on her knees eased their compulsive kneading. He brought her up slowly, deliberately, teasing her by small degrees, pausing between each tortuous drag of his tongue to let agonizing anticipation build in her limbs and brain.
Until she could no longer keep still. Her heaving breaths and the fine tremor in her thighs became a helpless shifting beneath him. Forgetting completely the drying blood on her hand, she plunged her fingers into his wild hair. The pressure inside her built and built, but slowly, as unlike her previous encounters with Edward's devilish tongue as a slowly smoldering fire is to a gas explosion.
"Edward," she cried out, grabbing fistfuls of his hair. Her head was spinning, her body singing, her skin was alive with sensation -
"Fucking hell," Edward whispered, and wrenched away from her.
Bella wailed in denial, reaching to pull him back. But he was already sweeping up her shorts and pulling them onto her legs. "Your father's here," he said, the fire in his eyes banked but still alight. He pulled her to her feet, but her knees refused to hold her weight. She sagged against the table.
"Hey, Bells," Charlie called as he opened the front door. Edward turned and resumed chopping the cursed mushrooms that had triggered the entire debacle.
"Hi, Dad," she managed to force out. "How…how was your day?"
"Not bad," he said, ambling into the kitchen. "Beat Tom seven hands out of ten…" his voice trailed away as he took in the sight before him. Salad greens scattered across the table and floor. The bowl lying carelessly in a corner. Salt spilled across the table, and Bella, looking dazed and drunk, leaning on the kitchen table.
His eyes flickered to Edward, who was chopping with exquisite care.
"Accident?" Charlie asked mildly.
"Uh, yeah. A car backfired. Scared the hell out of me. Um, excuse me." Bella knelt down and collected the ruined salad back into the bowl, then skirted around Edward to the trash. "I guess we'll have to do without the salad tonight. You're home early," she said, suddenly realizing it was barely four-thirty.
"Yeah, I thought I'd come spend some time with you." Charlie's gaze lingered on Edward, who still had not turned from the counter. "Lasagna, huh?"
"Yeah." Bella smoothed a hand over her hair and gave the boiling pasta a stir.
"Okay." Charlie looked down. "I'll, uh, I'll just…go in here for a minute." He turned and wandered into the living room.
"What is with you?" Bella hissed to Edward as soon as Charlie was out of earshot. "Couldn't you turn around and say hi?"
In answer, Edward took her unwounded hand and pressed it to his groin. To the rather prominent evidence of what they had just been up to.
"Oh, shit," Bella moaned. "Does he know?"
"He's got a pretty shrewd idea," Edward said shortly. He glanced at her. His eyes were still a little wild. "Would you wash your hand, please?"
Damn. Bella looked down at her thumb. The bleeding had stopped, but a long smear of drying blood ran down the side of her palm.
"I figured if anything could distract me…" Edward let his voice trail away vaguely, gesturing to the table.
"Good idea," Bella murmured. "Next time I get a paper cut I'll just tear all my clothes off first thing."
"I'm all for that."
Bella was on fire. Their little interlude on the kitchen table hung unmentioned in the air between Edward, Charlie and herself all evening long. They made stilted small talk while Edward shot her hot little glances from beneath his lashes and found excuses to touch her. His hand on her thigh under the table. A brush against her as they cleared up.
By the time she could escape for bed without arousing Charlie's suspicions, she was a complete wreck.
She skipped her shower, scrubbing her face and brushing her teeth with manic efficiency and all but flying to her bedroom. He was there when she opened the door.
Without a word, she launched herself into his arms.
He caught her expertly, wrapping her legs around his waist and backing her up against the wall. She could hear her own whimpers in the quiet as his fingers found their way beneath her pajama pants and gently squeezed her ass.
"Hush," he breathed between hot, wet kisses.
She tried, but the way he was touching her and kissing her was putting her vocal cords – and her pussy – hell, her whole body – outside of the jurisdiction of her mind and good sense. She pressed her lips to his, trying to muffle her little cries in his mouth.
"If you can't control yourself, Bella, I'm going to have to make you be quiet," he hissed, his mouth trailing over to her ear.
She pressed her fist – the one that wasn't clutching his neck desperately – into her mouth. But he was grinding against her like an ill-fitting gear against a cog, and she had been wet and aching for him for hours, and honestly cared more about his body against hers than shielding Charlie from a potentially fatal heart attack if he walked in and saw them.
"I brought something that might help," he breathed into her ear. "Would you like that?"
She had no idea what he was talking about, but she nodded anyway, because the way he was rolling his hips against hers just required an affirmative response.
"Okay," he muttered, and let her slide to the ground.
She moaned, her body instantly missing his against it. Funny how he was so cool, and he made her feel so warm… "Edward," she groaned, trying to pull him closer. He evaded her, leaning backwards and pulling something from his pocket.
A wad of red fabric. Red satin.
He allowed it to unravel and Bella saw that it was a scarf.
"I think I'm going to have to gag you, Bella."
Bella's nerve endings all went on high alert. She stared at him, panting, her hands in his hair and her eyes searching his. Could he possibly be serious?
"If you want me to take care of you, you're going to have to be quiet," he murmured, gathering the scarf back up into his hands and pulling it taut in front of him, where she could see it.
"Motherfucker," she breathed.
"Language, Bella." The gleam in his eyes went beyond wicked. He looked like sin incarnate standing there, telling her she had to let him gag her if she wanted him to touch her.
What are you waiting for, you idiot?
"Okay," she breathed.
Triumph exploded in his eyes. With an approving nod, he kissed her once, long and hard, and then, before she could catch her breath, he covered her lips with the gag.
"Open your mouth," he commanded, and she complied. The fabric was cool and smooth against her tongue and lips, but warmed instantly in her mouth. She watched him with fear and arousal churning inside her as he tied the fabric in a firm knot behind her head.
"Now," Edward whispered, smoothing his hands over her cheeks to ensure that the gag was securely in place, "Now that I have your full attention, Bella, I'm going to tell you a few things. Any objections?"
She shook her head.
"After this week is over," he said, reaching down and unbuttoning the first button on her pajama top, "I am going to take you home. To my home. And I'm going to put you in my bed. And I'm going to take off all your clothes. Would you be amicable to that arrangement?"
She nodded, caught in his gaze. She could feel him unfastening her shirt, but she couldn't look away from his dark eyes. He was hungry, she realized.
He hadn't fed since they'd left Seattle.
"I haven't decided if I'm going to tie you," he continued, his eyes boring into hers. "I hardly think it's necessary, since there's no way that you could escape me. But it might be interesting. Aesthetically, you know."
She groaned behind the gag, swaying on her feet. The idea of being tied up in that big draped bed on the fourth floor was beyond erotic.
"I'm going to send my family away. I don't think I'll want to gag you. I would much rather kiss your mouth. It's really too bad you couldn't behave yourself, Bella." He slipped her shirt off of her shoulders and bent down to brush his lips against hers, over the gag. "But I don't want anyone to hear the sounds you're going to make. No one but me."
She was whimpering when he again slipped his hands beneath the waistband of her pajama pants and traced the outside of her hips with his fingers.
"After I get you naked, I'm going to fuck you with my fingers. I'm going to stretch you, Bella. I don't want you to be uncomfortable when I get inside you. I'm going to touch you in places you didn't know you even had." His hands slid around to the front of her pants and he cupped her between her legs. Slowly, watching her eyes, he slipped one finger between her folds and up into her.
"And then I'm going to fuck you with my mouth," he continued, matter-of-fact. "I'm going to have to hunt first, because the smell of you and the taste of you is getting harder and harder to resist. I nearly bit you this afternoon, Bella. I got my tongue in you and I started to wonder what it would taste like to have your blood and your pussy in my mouth at the same time." He blinked slowly, as if reminiscing. "All the sins of all the ages wouldn't compare to the ecstasy, Bella. It would be the ultimate decadence. The ultimate pleasure."
Fear overrode her desire…just barely. She felt his fingers tense against her, clutching her sex, and then he abruptly let go and stepped back to strip off her pants.
"Of all the sins I could commit, that would be the worst, and the best," he breathed, dropping to his knees in front of her. "To take such pleasure from you, just as I took your life. I shouldn't even think of it. But I can't help it, Bella…" with a groan, he grasped her thighs in his hands and pressed his lips to her.
Her eyes rolled back in her head and her skull fell against the wall. He pressed his tongue high up against her clit and flicked her steadily. Each firm pass of his tongue made the pleasure rise higher…but her fear remained. At any second she expected to feel the sharp nick of poisonous teeth…
"No," he moaned, pulling back. "No, no, no."
There was no release in the tension that gripped her. She fisted her hands hard in his hair and tried to pull him closer, calling herself a moron for tempting him and fate so. But she was sure she'd die if he didn't kiss her there again.
"I'll fuck you with my mouth," he said harshly, "I'll make you squeal until you don't have a breath left. I'll make you forget your own name while screaming mine, Bella. You won't know whether to beg me to stop or to keep going."
She was already there. High, keening sounds escaped muffled from behind the gag. She arched her hips, pushing herself towards him, begging him wordlessly.
Keep going. Keep kissing me. Keep saying these things.
With a grunt, he slung one of her legs over his shoulder and leaned in again, taking a long swipe across her slit with his tongue. Gathering all her moisture into his mouth.
"I'm going to make you come until you're shaking with fatigue and hunger. And then I'll feed you and let you sleep. For a while. And then I'm going to start all over."
He pushed his tongue up into her, then withdrew. Again, and again, and again, until her body broke around her. She arched and trembled between him and the wall, unable to hold herself up, completely dependent on him to keep her from falling. He fingered her clit in slow circles, helping her ride out the contractions.
"I'm going to use your mouth, too," he said pensively. "I'm going to put my cock between your lips and watch you pleasure me. I might even let you swallow. It depends on how much you beg."
She was almost – almost – distracted from his words. When he said that, her drooping eyelids popped open and she looked down at him in astonishment.
"Alice said it would make you crazy," he mused, withdrawing the finger from her clit and sucking it clean, then inserting his index and middle fingers between her folds. "She said it would make you impossibly aroused, for hours. If I came inside you. But it would make you uncomfortable afterwards," he said, almost apologetically, looking up into her eyes as he slid his fingers in and out of her. "It would make your stomach upset. I don't know. Maybe I'll just come between your legs, instead."
A very tiny part of Bella was alarmed and humiliated that he and Alice had discussed this. Another part of her – the part that already knew what he was telling her, that his semen, or whatever it was that he ejaculated – made her burn and tingle and ache for him. The idea of having that feeling inside her, whether in her mouth or in her pussy, made her scared and turned on and terrified and anxious. She didn't know if she could survive it.
"You'll burn and writhe and beg for me," he murmured. "I've seen it, in her visions. I shouldn't even consider subjecting you to that. But having you so defenseless…completely at my mercy…God, Bella, I know how Alexander the Great felt when he looked out over Asia. Total power. That's what I would have over you."
She was coming again, almost more because of his rambling dialogue than the slow thrust of his fingers inside her. She cried out against the gag as his two fingers were joined by a third, which made her stretch and unfurl inside like a new flower.
"I could take you any way I wanted," he whispered. "I could take you here." And just as her climax broke over her, she felt his thumb slip between her ass cheeks and brush against her other opening.
The sensation was alien and alarming and beyond arousing. She cried out again, arching, not sure if she was trying to escape his importune thumb or grind against his torquing fingers.
"Would you like that, Bella?" he asked, stroking her gently. "Would you like for me to make this ass mine, as well?"
I don't know, she cried out in her head. The tremors were flushing through her, making her brain slow and her muscles hot.
"I assure you that you wouldn't mind, once I got inside there," he murmured. "No, you wouldn't object at all."
She was sure he was right.
Edward was annihilated.
His self control was in tatters. Hours and hours of Bella's crushing scent, her heavy heartbeat, her quick looks and her short breaths had turned him into a complete savage.
And all his frustration and lust and depraved desire was spewing out of his mouth and falling on Bella's delicate ears.
He was completely appalled by the filth that he was expounding to her. These were things that one should never speak aloud, decadent and profane thoughts that no true lover would dare entertain.
But with every dirty word he uttered, her scent spiraled, her body convulsed, and her eyes clouded with lust and need.
As if he needed another method for corrupting her, now he was telling her he wanted to penetrate her anally. God, you'd tear her apart, he thought dimly.
Not after, another voice argued. When she's changed…
No.
Can't think about that now, not when her scent was all around and inside him and she was coming again and the noises she was making, just low enough that Charlie couldn't hear, filled his head.
After her body ceased its tremors and he gently laid her down on her little twin bed, guiding her hand inside his jeans to stroke him into an almost-painful climax, Edward gathered Bella into his arms and held her as tightly as he dared. She dropped off to sleep immediately, as was her habit, so he wrapped her in an afghan before curling himself around her warm little body.
And devoted himself to a good hour of mental repudiation for the things he'd said.
The moon had risen and the ever-present cloud cover had been whisked away when he felt the touch of Irina's mind outside the house.
Edward, she called out to him silently, Rose and Emmett came across Esme's trail.
Sighing, Edward untangled himself from Bella's bed and pulled his phone from his back pocket. A text was coming in at that very second.
Es. has been at Q store on rez. Trail went west. Lost it 2 mi out.
Right into the heart of the Quileute's territory.
Edward frowned and sent a text to everyone. Keep at it. Don't crowd her. Send Jaz.
Jasper would be most likely to be able to convince Esme to back off or come home with them, at least temporarily.
But what happens when his good vibrations wear off? A little voice in Edward's mind wondered. And what about all that free-will shit that you were spouting before?
He needed to talk to her. Find out what was going around in her head.
Yeah, and she knows that's what you'll be after. She won't let you get close enough.
Edward stared at Bella's sleeping form, mired in doubt.
Dear Carlisle,
I need your guidance so badly. Never in seventy years have I been so undecided.
On one hand, I need to be here, with Bella. I don't want Jacob to get anywhere close to her. Even though I don't think he'd hurt her on purpose, she just has no inkling of how unstable he is.
On the other hand, Esme is about to pick a monumental fight. I've been feeling it coming all week. It's been too quiet. She's been laying low, and now she's made an appearance. She's about to make her move. Again, I don't want her anywhere near Jacob.
It all revolves around that ridiculous mutt. I wish I could just kill him to simplify things a little. But I have the feeling my one true love would get a little annoyed about that.
I have to rely on the others to help me, and it rankles. It's been so long since I've been anything but self-sufficient. Being a control freak really sucks.
I feel you in these woods, in this town. I feel like you're watching over us here. I know that I've always felt that vampires go to hell when we're killed, but if there was ever an exception to the rule, God would pull it out just for you.
If you're watching us, Carlisle, please, could you send us a little help? Anything?
Chapter End Notes:
Edward's not our sweet little choir boy any more, is he? What the hell happened to him?
It is now time to take an opinion poll. Who thinks that Edward should, ahem, use protection when they finally do the deed? Who wants to see Bella under the influence of 100% pure extract of vampire hotness? Review and let me know what you think, or Tweet CyraBear.