The red head jumps up to sit on the ledge running around the building, still watching me with wide eyes as Laurent's hands release me. I'm frozen where I stand, unable to get a message down to my legs.
James takes a small step towards me and my body tenses, watching his every move. He reaches into the inner pocket of his leather jacket, rummaging around for something. I jerk back a few steps as his hand lurches out…
…with nothing more than a pack of cigarettes. My movement triggers the motion sensor on the outdoor floodlight with an electric snap.
"Jesus," mutters Laurent, lifting his hand up to block the light from his face. He's young. Actually, they're all young. They look fresh out of college. Laurent's hand lands on my shoulders again, heavy because he's trying to steady himself, not to hold me captive. He's drunk as a skunk.
He staggers dizzily away to the wall and leans on it, his head bobbing around like his neck can no longer hold it still.
"You want one?" James asks, his hand still outstretched with the cigarettes. He looks nervous under the lights, his greasy teenage skin reflecting the bright fluorescence.
Maybe it's the alcohol or perhaps just relief that for once I'm glad this was an odd fantasy that got out of control. Whatever it is, it has me laughing.
You're such an idiot.My laughter makes the girl smile, her freckles and chubby baby cheeks glowing in the light.
"I don't smoke, but thanks," I reply when I've managed to claw back a little self-control.
He nods, looking a little dejected as his face falls.
"Hang with us anyway, mousey," the girl calls, swinging her legs, but I'm already making my way back inside.
"It's too cold for me," I call back, still feeling high on the relief that it was just my overactive imagination freaking me out.
The warmth of the pub welcomes me with open arms as I start to push back through the bodies, determined to reach our table again.
I'm trying to worm my way through a party of 7, all sloshing pints everywhere as they bark out laughter at some obscene joke, when I feel his hand on the small of my back.
"How was your fresh air?" Edward's voice appears in my ear, making me hold back a sigh at the pure smoothness of his voice. It's like when you drink a proper milkshake and it's just so rich and luxurious in your throat.
It takes a few more moments of pushing through drunk bodies before there's enough space to turn and look at him. His hair is erratic, pushed all over the place where he's been running fingers through it.
"Bracing," I mock shudder, rubbing my arms and pushing my breasts together with the motion, squeezing them against the low neckline.
He hums appreciatively. Both of us too drunk to keep up shy pretences as I rub my arms longer than needed and his eyes linger on my creamy flesh.
"I hope you didn't do that for James out there," his eyes return to mine, something flashing through the green too quick for me to pick up.
"If you saw me go out there, why didn't you come rescue me?" I ask, my arms falling still, crossed over my ribs.
He chuckles but it doesn't reach his eyes, "They're harmless, Bella. Creepy, sure, but harmless."
I stare at him a little longer, trying to figure him out. "Maybe I'll go back out there, if they're so harmless," I test him, letting my arms fall and smooth down my dress like I'm getting ready to leave.
His arms are on either side of me before I can make another move, leaning his head down and searching for my eyes. When they meet mine it takes my breath away. The darkness and the possessiveness is in full force – a forest at dusk – and there's anger too. I can't help but let my heart soar when it all clicks together. He's jealous.
My breath gets heavy as arousal pools deep inside me at his intensity, his strength as his arms trap me here. It's all-consuming, being wrapped up in Edward. I want him to push further, to put his hand back on my throat and tell me I'm not going anywhere.
What he actually does is so much better. He dips his head like he's going to kiss me, then lets his lips hover over my jaw, the hint of stubble tickling me as he slowly moves upwards towards the long-since-healed bruise. He keeps going, goosebumps prickling my arms as his hot breath trickles down my neck.
"Stay," he whispers in my ear. Just one word is all it takes for me to be putty in his hands. I wasn't stupid, I knew that he wanted me. Possibly as much as I want him. But that single word brings the uncertainty and nervousness out from the shadows of my mind and shatters them with a heavy blow. He wants me to stay, to be with him. His words make it all real, out in the open. It's the final nail in the coffin and I know in this moment, as drunk as I am, that I am his. I am completely his.
We fit together, and I know he feels it too. It just took that flash of jealousy to snap all the puzzle pieces together. For both of us to realise what we want.
Inhibitions fly away. It's just me and him, I've got nothing to hide anymore. "Always," I whisper back, shocked at the depth of my answer, but it feels right. Whatever changes he's made to me are permanent. There's no going back for me, but butterflies rise up in my stomach. Maybe it won't be so permanent for him.
He pulls back to look into my eyes again, smiling as he says, "After all this time?"
I breathe a little sigh of relief but can't help but feel a little disappointed too. He thinks I'm quoting Harry Potter.
At least he didn't run for the hills.He leans in closer, the length of his body pressing into mine until my ass hits the edge of the table, his long arms stretching out behind me. Pulling back far too soon, he hands me a fizzing half pint of lemonade.
Good, he got vodka in it too.
"Cheers," he winks at me, his eyes shining bright as our glasses clink together. They keep my gaze locked in them as I slurp at my lemonade, a drop rolling from the corner of my mouth and down my chin.
We laugh like it's the most hilarious thing that's happened all night.
"Come on, then," he tugs me towards the shuffling bodies, the room too full for people to dance freely.
Rose grins at me as we approach, taking my free hand and pulling me closer. Her skin is soft in my palm and she smells like perfume and sweet alcohol. "Dance with me, Bella," she sings lazily.
So, I do.
Blissed out and drunk, my head falls back as I move with her, knowing Edward is right behind me. I lose track of how many songs have passed until we're laughing and screeching out the lyrics to Come On Eileen, Emmett's booming voice carrying over everything else. If people were staring, I didn't notice. Or maybe I didn't care.
Only when the song changes to a slow, romantic ballad do we finally move back to the table, none of us feel like sobering up enough to slow dance.
Emmett slouches down in a worn wooden chair, pulling a giggling Rosalie down with him. She lands on the seat next to him, her legs resting on his lap as his fingers trace lines up from her ankles to the backs of her knees. They're completely absorbed in each other.
My bag has somehow ended up on the floor, no longer hidden under the piles of coats people left here. I lean down to grab it and feel dizzy when I sit back up, swaying slightly as the now quiet pub swirls before my eyes. I slide Rose's house key back to her across the table then turn back to Edward.
He's watching me, his eyes slightly hooded and smouldering again. "You're drunk," he smirks.
"So are you," is my clever retort.
He grins at that, then glances around the pub to the now vacant makeshift dancefloor.
"You still owe me a dance," he reminds me, his smirk turning sly.
I nod and scoot my ass closer, my head too fuzzy and happy to think up words or act coy.
His arm winds back around me, nails dragging slightly on the satin to trace patterns into my flushed skin underneath.
"You wanna get out of here?" he asks, low yet soft. Alluring, not demanding.
I hum and nod again, snuggling into his arm.
His grasp tightens on the half empty pint glass, bringing it to his lips as he tries to down it in one, giving up after a few mouthfuls.
"Fuck it," he mutters, abandoning it on the table and pulling himself up and onto his feet.
"We're off," he tells Emmett but he's not listening, still wooing a blushing Rosalie.
"Got everything?" he asks, giving me a once over.
"Our coats," I remind him.
He takes my hand and pulls me across the floor, a man on a mission.
"Yo, don't forget you've got Alice tomorrow," Emmett hollers at us, his eyes still focused on the woman besides him.
The cold air swarms us as we step outside, the music and quiet chatter fading away completely. It's damn cold, my dragon breath swirls up in front of me. But it's no match for the furnace of heat between my legs that's been burning low all evening. Nothing can dampen my arousal.
Edward tugs me back into his side, wrapping an arm around me as we take a slow walk under the streetlights.
"You're awfully smiley tonight," Edward teases me. I can't even deny it so I just turn to look at him and beam so more.
That makes him laugh and stumble a little. The loud sound bounces off the cars parked along here. I love it when he laughs like that. So carefree. Another side to Edward I want to know better.
We trundle along, smiling and jostling each other as our feet find unsteady ground.
He's left the porch light on so we can get up the concrete path to his house without tripping. I trip anyway, the bright light having no effect on my coordination. He manages to catch me in time and we stumble against the front door with a bang.
Long, rough fingers unlock the door with surprising accuracy considering the state we're in and we fly into the hallway.
The door thuds behind me as he shuts it and starts flicking on light switches.
His home smells like Edward intensified, the warmth from the heating he left on permeates right through me. I pull off my boots, leaning against the wall as he disappears to flick on more lights and draw curtains. The carpet is plush beneath my toes, moulding around my feet.
"Get comfortable," his voice calls from somewhere behind a wall.
I pad slowing into the front room, enjoying the softness below me. It's homely and so Edward. Light coloured walls and a standard sofa set are there from necessity, but the shelves are something else entirely. I stumble closer to the nearest one, reaching out to touch the curved wood. He made these shelves himself, I realise. The once gnarly branch sanded down smooth and flat to hold books and carvings. I reach out to touch it, feeling how sleek the wood is under my fingertips.
A glimpse of movement catches in the corner of my eye, but it's just my reflection in the TV. She looks wild, her cheeks still flushed and pupils wide.
Edward's not come back to find me yet so I stumble onto the sofa to get comfortable, as he asked.
The girl in the TV smiles sinfully as a thought crosses her mind.
I slip my hands up under the dress, reaching the edge of the tights and slowly tugging the clinging material down my legs. My bra goes next, carefully unclipped and removed from under my dress.
He said to get comfortable, after all.
I stand up to twirl, feeling the shift of satin over my nipples. They harden at the sensation.
I've come full circle before I feel his presence. He's watching me from the doorway, his eyes bemused.
"You look beautiful in that dress," he breaks the silence with a smile.
I nod. "It feels good," I hum back, tipping my head back a little and swaying, my eyes still locked with his as he moves closer like a predator stalking prey. Willing prey.
His hands come to my waist, pulling me the final step to close the distance between us.
"Comfortable?" he asks, moving his hands up my body on top of the dress, his thumbs lightly passing over hardened nipples straining against the satin. I push my body closer to him in answer, feeling his own hardness press into my belly.
His lips descend on mine before I can do anything else, a passionate kiss forcing my lips apart so his tongue can reach mine. Hands grab at my waist, sliding down to my hips and palming my ass as he drags me impossibly closer, my body bowing and bending to his. My hands reach up into his hair, tugging on the wiry copper strands to make him growl lowly at the pleasure and pain.
He breaks the kiss, leaving me gasping for air as his hands travel down to my thighs where my skin is silkiest. The rough on the smooth makes me whimper. "Up," he commands, his firm grip on my thighs helping me jump up and wrap my legs around him. He holds me there in his arms like I weigh nothing as I unashamedly grind my body into his, my lips still swollen from his rough kiss are parted as I pant.
A breathy moan escapes as I move my hips to push against his rigid cock, trying to break free from his jeans.
"Fuck, Bella," he mutters into my shoulder as his hands travel up to my ass for better grip, finding my skin bare and malleable under his fingers.
"Yes, please," I whimper back, grinding my satin covered pussy over him, desperate for a little attention.
He groans and nips at my neck, hands still cupping and squeezing my ass as he starts to move. The bulge in his jeans rubs against me deliciously with every step and he covers my mouth with his again to swallow my needy moans.
I'm hoisted higher until I'm pressed against his stomach so he can walk up the stairs. My thighs instinctively squeeze his toned torso, trying to find the friction again. I whimper out his name as we slowly ascend, one step at a time, squirming against him. Teeth tug hard on my nipple through the satin in response, pain shooting through the tight bud and making me gasp.
"Hold still," his rough voice snaps, nails digging into my ass to stop my hips gyrating against him so he can get up the last steps with a burst of energy.
He sends us crashing into a room, my weight toppling us over. I let out a shriek as I feel his knees give in and send us down in a mess of limbs, my legs still spread wide as he falls between them.
Curse words fly out of his mouth as he strains to hold himself over me instead of crushing me with his weight.
I can't help the giggle that falls from my lips. He doesn't see the funny side.
"Are you laughing at me, girl?" he growls, looking up at me with dark eyes and a thunderous expression that simultaneously sobers me up and increases the ache low in the pit of my belly. He crawls up me until he's pressed right where I need him, his hard cock settling against my pussy. I shift my hips a little so he's nestled right on top of my clit and claw at his back to get him to grind.
He doesn't indulge me, he just watches me try to squirm as he slowly lets more of his weight push down on me.
"Please, Edward," I beg for him to give me something, anything. It makes him smirk, having me completely at his mercy.
He leans down closer until all I can see are emeralds through my hooded eyes. My breast press against his chest with every breath, teasing me painfully as I'm pinned motionless beneath him.
"Not tonight," he whispers on my lips and then he's gone, cold air rushing to fill the emptiness he left behind.
Bed springs groan behind me as Edward collapses onto the bed. I twist onto my stomach and finally get to my feet, my head still spinning.
His rough hands readjust his jeans and he grimaces at the uncomfortable feeling.
"But… that's not fair," I try not to whine and fail miserably.
"We shouldn't have drunk that much," he mutters quietly, staring at the ceiling.
"Bu-" I start again but he quickly interrupts.
"I won't fuck you half-heartedly the first time when we're drunk," he snaps impatiently, then sighs and looks over at me swaying a little on my feet. "You might not remember this tomorrow anyway," he mumbles more to himself than to me.
His words sting but I'm not letting him give up.
"I'll remember," I tell him, sliding closer to the bed and playing with the hem of my dress.
"Bella," he calls to drag my attention away from my bare feet. His eyes are half closed but the greens of his irises shine bright anyway. "It needs to be," he struggles for the words, "it needs to be right."
I melt a little at his attempt to soften up and soothe the rejection I'm feeling. He wants, no he needs to control this. I give in, knowing I can manage the sweet torture of a very wet, needy pussy a little longer if it means he'll fuck me like he once promised. Taking a deep breath, I whisper "okay," and then climb onto the bed, trapping one of his muscular thighs between my legs and settling down.
"Just let me show you how much I…"
Fucking hell, that was close.I gulp back the word 'love' and try again.
"Let me show you how grateful I am."
I'm nervous, it's been a long while since I've done anything like this. I trail my hands up his thighs, hoping he likes it as much as I do when he does it to me. His head falls back onto the pillow and he lets out a groan, giving me enough confidence to see this through.
I palm his cock through his jeans for a moment, feeling the heat beneath my palm.
"Stop," he commands, grabbing my hands in one of his to keep them from groping him further, "take your dress off." He releases my hands from his rough grasp.
I drag my fingertips back down his thighs, looking up at him from under my lashes as I move from his legs to my own, catching the forest green satin as my journey travels upwards.
The satin slides over my legs as I lift it at either side, revealing slender hips but letting the fabric drape down in the middle, prolonging the teasing. I look down at my body, biting my lip for his benefit as my hands pull it higher.
He disappears from view as I tug it over my head but I feel an appreciative rumble travel through his body when he sees the tiny black thong I'm wearing.
I arch my back as the dress finally slips off my arms and pools onto the floor beside the bed. I push my hips forward, pressing harder into his thigh as my pussy trembles for a little affection. The rough jeans catch on the satin in just the right way, pressing into my throbbing clit.
"Better?" I whisper, the lust coursing through me guiding me and moulding me into a temptress for him.
He shifts his leg underneath me, making me gasp and grab onto him so I don't topple over as more wetness seeps out of me. He chuckles, reminding me who's really in control here.
"Put your hands back on my cock," he orders.
I place both on him, squeezing lightly and glancing up to gauge his reaction. He's watching me with lust-filled eyes raking over my body.
"Go on," he prompts, shifting his hips up into my hands.
I tug open the button and pull the zipper, pulling on the waistband of his jeans a little to reveal more of his boxers.
He doesn't need to tell me what to do next, the desire to see his cock, feel it pulsing in my hand, is strong. I grind a little harder and reach in, hearing him suck in a sharp breath as my hand wraps around the silky, throbbing flesh.
I carefully pull him out of the cotton confines, wrapping my hand around the base entirely and just… fuck. Fuck. I can feel the hot blood pulsing through him in my palm under the thin silky skin stretched taught. I wrap my other hand around him too, but it's not enough, there's too much of him to hold all at once.
He twitches in my hands, reminding me to stop staring and start worshipping. I vow to make him cum like he made me cum.
My hands slide lightly over the skin, paying close attention to his reaction as I grind down on his leg at the same time.
He pushes up into my hands for a few slow strokes before his rough hand wraps around mine.
"Like this," he tells me in a low voice, increasing the pace and squeezing a little tighter, "that's it," he encourages me.
He grunts a little, the throbbing under my fingers intensifying as a bead of pre-cum forms. Without thinking, I dip down to lap it up, pressing my tongue flat and firm against him and feeling that musky taste saturate my taste buds.
I hear him hiss quietly and push up a little harder into my hands, so I do it again. The hot flesh feels so good beneath my tongue so I open wider and suck on the tip, pushing my hips back and sliding my pussy along his leg so my back doesn't need to curl up so much. My pussy lands on his knee, creating just the right pressure as I rotate my hips over it. Humming around his cock makes him groan.
Rough fingers in my hair push me down further, taking the head fully into my mouth. He's heavy on my tongue as I slide and flick it over him, adding a little suction and pumping the thick shaft quicker.
"Good girl," he groans above me, pushing my head down so more slips into my mouth, guiding me instead of forcing. I pull back a little and sink down further, trying hard to keep my teeth away from him but it's not easy, there's too much girth. Twisting my hands slightly every time they reach the thick base of his cock, I let saliva drool past my lips to lubricate my hands.
Feeling his hot, slick flesh under my fingers has my pussy aching, imagining sinking down on him. Fuck, he'll fill me right to the brim. The thought makes my hips jerk.
"Bella," he groans, hands tightening in my hair to let me know he's close. I suck harder and pull up a little, rolling my tongue around the head before sinking back down again and repeating.
I feel his other hand grip my head, rough fingers pressing into my scalp as his hips jerk erratically. I struggle to maintain my rhythm, sucking as much of him into my mouth as I can until thick streams of cum fill my mouth. I keep sucking, making sure to take as much of him as possible before slowly pulling myself off, keeping my lips tight around him so not a single drop will spill out.
1, 2, 3…I swallow in one gulp, keeping my face down just in case a grimace manages to break through. It's slightly salty, musky, thick and creamy as it slides down my throat. I feel good, happy. I'm sated, even though I'm still aching for my own release – I wanted to swallow his cum even though I knew it wouldn't taste great. It never does, right?
His hands on my waist keep me steady as I pull upright and the blood rushes from my head.
"You ok?" he asks, watching me warily as I blink and try to regain my balance.
I nod slowly when I finally grow still. "Good," he murmurs, sliding his hands down from my waist to my hips, guiding my motions as I continue to grind on him, rocking back and forth over the denim. My pussy lips are swollen from all the friction, my clit pressed tightly against the satin and I know it's not going to take much.
I take over the pace, shifting a little quicker as I pull his rough hands up my body. He sets my skin alight as the rough pads add trace ribs before cupping my breasts.
"You're doing so good," he whispers into the room as my eyes flutter closed. He moves his fingers around the soft globes of my breasts until he can flick and roll my tight nipples under his thumbs. "Cum for me, sweet girl," he coos at me, the slight mocking in his voice and smirk I can hear with every word tips me over.
He pulls me down onto his chest as I try to catch my breath again, eyes still closed as I listen to his heartbeat.
"Bella?" he shakes me a little. Guess I started to drift off.
I manage to pull myself up enough to see his face. He's amused, but his expression is soft and he looks as tired as I feel.
He guides us upright, his arms around me as my head lulls back onto his shoulder. He drops a kiss onto my forehead.
"Few more minutes, then you can sleep," he promises, shifting away and pushing me gently off his lap. He disappears out the door, leaving me alone to take in the room for a moment. It's simple, darkwood furniture and bedframe with soft blue cotton sheets. Photo frames litter a chest of drawers pushed up against the wall and a few books clutter the nightside table.
I lean heavily on my arms, fighting sleep as I hear a tap running in the next room.
His body blocks the light from the hallway for a split second. He's stripped down to just his boxers.
"Did you leave your bag at Rosalie's?" he asks, waiting patiently for me to nod before digging through a drawer to find the right t-shirt for me to wear.
He passes the soft white cotton to me and watches quietly as I pull it over my head. I gently ease the thong down my legs, trying not to hiss when it unsticks itself from my still swollen and over-sensitive clit. It falls to the floor by my dress.
I crawl under the covers and wait for him to finish flicking off the lights and join me. I'm already drifting off into dreamland when the mattress dips besides me and a heavy arm curls over my waist.