Now, the moment you've all no doubt been waiting for...
Part Twelve
I try to wash the memory of his scent from my mind, just as I rinse it from my body. It stays as if permanently stuck to my skin, in my nose, in my hair, although I know it's not possible.
I sigh and resign myself to the fact that nothing as simple as a shower can remove Edward from my thoughts in the way that I need him to be. I know that I can't let this continue – it is wrong – but my body tells me differently. I feel like I am being pulled from side to side in some sick version of tug-a-war.
Eventually, I give up on trying to cleanse the memory of his touch from my body and I step out of the shower. The air is thick with steam, and it condenses on my cold skin, running in rivets down my bare arms and chest. While the hot water had temporarily heated my skin, leaving a pleasant sensation in its wake, already, I can feel the heat is dissipating and taking its comfort with it.
I sigh heavily and wipe my hand across the mirror, staring blankly at my pale face reflected back at me in the silver. For the hundredth time, I wonder what I am even doing.
I have no answer.
Opening the bathroom door sends a gust of cool air in, clearing much of the steamy air, and I step out into my room, a towel hanging low on my scrawny hips. It is beyond me how Edward can find this body – my body – attractive. How many times had I been looked at with disgust from others?
I stride over to my wardrobe, his tempting scent still swirling about the room, albeit fading. I am halfway there when I hear a light rap tap tap on the door to my bedroom. I roll my eyes.
"Jane, I'm not in the mood," I declare as I reach for the armoire's door and hope that she'll take my oh so subtle hint to leave me the fuck alone.
The door to my chambers creeps open before I can do anything else. I twist around and mentally prepare myself to bitch her out. "Seriously, Jane, I don –" The words die on my tongue as my eyes go wide.
"Hey," Edward says casually, his voice peppy, slipping into my room without my invitation and closing the door with a click behind him. I gulp as the sound echoes through the room, my thoughts whirring. "What's up?"
The array of emotions running through me tie up my tongue with all the possible answers I could give him.
Just trying to convince myself that we can't do anything together.
Berating myself for taking advantage of a child like some sort of disgusting pervert.
Hoping that you actually like me.
Praying that you really don't.
I settle on being annoyed after a moment's hesitation.
"Ever think to ask before entering someone else's room?"
Edward shrugs, pacing forward. I hold my ground as he approaches and try to stand taller so that I can look intimidating instead of like a weak, skinny teenager.
My towel slides lower on my stomach and I realize with horror that I am still only clad in a thin, white linen, which is now dangerously close to falling free of my body altogether. I clutch at it with my hand, hiking it up higher on my hips.
His eyes follow the movement, trailing up my chest and then back down again. His gaze makes me shift uncomfortably and, without realizing it, I've backed into the armoire as he steps closer to me. Too close. Not close enough.
"I had to let you know that I wasn't Jane," he says nonchalantly, as if he isn't standing only inches away from my nearly naked form. His crimson eyes burn with an unquenchable fire. I feel impossibly, inexplicably hot beneath his gaze.
"A few words would have sufficed," I manage to choke out, my voice cracking embarrassingly. My grip on the towel tightens to the point that I am afraid that my fingers might rip through the flimsy material. "I'm not even dressed," I add, hoping he might back off, but knowing as soon as I say the words that he won't.
If anything, he edges nearer. "Why do that when I could just show you? You left so abruptly, earlier."
"Edward, this can't –" I stop myself, my eyes narrowing in suspicion. He didn't just come in to show me that he was the one outside my door, he came in to catch me like this. Awkward and undressed. He had to know that I had just come out of the shower – he could see it in my mind just like everything else. I steel myself, squaring my shoulders. "You shouldn't be here."
"But, I want to be here," he counters. "And so do you."
His annoying habit of peeking into my innermost thoughts means that I can't deny it, but that doesn't change the fact that I shouldn't want him to be here. He is my mentee, I am in a position of power over him and I am exploiting him.
"No, you're not," Edward answers me as if I have voiced my thoughts aloud. "I think I have made clear what I want. I'm not some child, too young to make my own decisions. Maybe in your world – our world," he corrects himself, "but I'm mature enough to know what I want."
What I want. I swallow thickly as he leans over me, his face so close to mine that I can feel his breath wash along my face. "Edward, you don't know what you are doing," I say, my entire being vibrating at his proximity. You should leave.
His gaze burns with intensity. "Then tell me to leave."
My will battles fiercely with the desire consuming me. I feebly try one more time to turn him away, my voice breathy, not convincing. "I'm not what you want –"
His lips crash against mine, then, swallowing up the nonsensical excuses that I'm spinning in an attempt to persuade him to give up this pursuit. My eyes close despite my efforts to keep them open and my lips move against his as my mind reels. I forget why this is a bad idea, why I shouldn't do this, when his large hands plant themselves on either side of my head, heavy against the furniture he has me backed up against. It creaks from the added weight, but he pays it no mind as he drops one hand to my waist, where it ignites my whole body, engulfing it in flames that send bolts of pleasure directly to my core.
My hands are on his chest, pushing and pulling him by his shirt, undecided about what to do. Push him away, pull him closer. Lead us to the bed, stay right here.
His long fingers dance along my smooth stomach, closer and closer to the place where I want him to touch me most. They stop just above the towel slung low on my hips and run along the end that is tucked in, tracing patterns on my skin. I am painfully hard, pathetically so, but he doesn't seem to mind as he flicks the towel open and lets it pool around my feet.
He breaks away to glance down between us, panting heavily. I feel self-conscious under his intense stare. This is the first time that someone has seen me like this: naked and wanting. I watch him warily for any sign that he is having second thoughts, but his face is a careful mask. Only his hungry eyes betray what he is thinking.
His fingers slip further and further down my stomach, trailing down through the patch of short, dark hair between my hips. I feel myself becoming more wound up by his touch as he gets nearer to where I crave him the most, jolts of pleasure coursing through me like lightning as he slowly travels the short distance to my cock.
I watch, as if through a veil, as his fingers curl around me and squeeze gently.
"Fuck," I hiss, my hips bucking into his hand involuntarily. "Fuck."
His eyes dart up to mine and he smirks devilishly. "You like that?" His hand moves at a painfully slow pace up and down my length.
My head bangs back, no doubt leaves a dent in the dark wood, as his thumb circles the sensitive foreskin at the head. I can't form words, only low moans, as he torments me in the most delightful way possible.
My hands scramble for something to grab hold of and I finally find purchase on his strong biceps, steadying myself. "Holy fuck."
He continues his ministrations as his head drops down to my neck, nibbling and licking the skin along my jugular in the most frustratingly dizzying manner. His hand moves steadily up and down, up and down, and I feel like I am about to come apart at the seams between the sensations of his hand on me and his lips at my neck.
"I could hear you," he mumbles into my neck, his voice thick with need. "All day, while I was listening to Aro talk, all I could focus on was you."
I shiver, gasping.
"All your conflicting, frustrating thoughts," he continues, biting my neck roughly. I inhale sharply, a strangled gasp escaping my lips. "They whispered along the edges of my mind, distracting me."
I am mortified that he heard my angst-ridden rants, but the pleasure lancing through my body keeps me from focusing too much on anything for long.
"All I wanted to do was come up here and touch you like this –" I whimper audibly as his fingers brush lower, "– when I was supposed to be paying attention. I feel like I should get some sort of compensation for that," he whispers silkily.
Compensation for what, again? I can't concentrate.
His free hand sneaks between us, dancing up my chest, and I jerk when he pinches my nipple.
He chuckles against my neck as I swear loudly and pulls away just before I tip over the precipice. I don't know whether to protest or be grateful, and he saves me from making the choice as his lips attack mine once again.
His tongue stabs into my mouth, hungry, searching, and he pins me to the door with his hips. I feel his erection hard and heavy against my stomach through his jeans and I growl into his mouth.
What is he doing to me? My head is spinning and despite not needing to, I feel like I can't breathe. It's a good thing he is holding me up with his body, pinning me, or else I might just collapse into an ungraceful heap on the rug.
It suddenly occurs to me through my Edward-induced haze that I am completely naked, bare before him, while he is still fully clothed in jeans and a casual t-shirt unbefitting of a Volturi Guard. He always likes bending the rules.
He pulls away from me, breathing heavily, and rests his forehead against mine. His eyes are burning brightly, his pants loud in the oppressive silence. I realize that I am panting, too, and my member throbs painfully as a reminder of what we were just doing.
"Now do you believe that I'm not a child to be coddled?"
My voice is breathy and, in an incomprehensible moment of bravery, I whisper, "No. I might need a little more persuasion."
Edward's grin is positively sinful. "That can be arranged."
He reaches down and tugs at the hem of his cotton shirt, revealing his chiseled chest slowly, which has only been hinted at through his clothes before now.
His hair is absolutely wild; he tosses his shirt to the floor and I drink in his lean frame. There is definitely something about his body that suggests that he is a lanky teenage boy, but it is strong, defined, with a spattering of light brown hair that leads down to his jeans like an arrow focusing my attention.
My own chest is almost completely smooth, mostly because of my young age when I was turned. I am slimmer, having not filled out like he nearly has. I'm forever trapped in a body that is much younger than my mind, and the thought brings a sudden wave of sadness that manages to overshadow the arousal pulsing through me.
"You are not inadequate," Edward murmurs, his hand finding my face and imbedding in my hair, his fingers curling against my scalp. His other rests on my hip, his thumb rubbing circles into the skin there.
I want to tell him that I can't understand why he desires me in this way, when so many have made it clear that my adolescent body means more to them than the adult mind trapped inside it, and I can barely function on a daily basis. The words bubble in my throat, but don't leave.
Edward shakes his head, his eyes crinkling around the edges as he smiles. "Why would I want someone who isn't you?" He speaks tenderly, picking up on the next stop my train of thought is heading to. "You are smart, witty, handsome, andyou don't take my shit."
I resist snorting. "No, I do not."
"I hope you realize that those are all things that I find very attractive. Further, in case you're still doubting me, I'm seventeen – only two years older than you," he teases, throwing my words from all those months ago back at me, and pecking me on the lips.
I gaze up at him, unusually at a loss for words.
Edward kisses me, then, halting any thoughts that I might have about how wrong this is, or how I might appear to him. He grinds his erection against my stomach as his tongue dances with mine and I can't help but run my hands through his tousled hair and tug him closer. His body perfectly fits against mine, his strong arms encircling me with a sense of rightness that erases all doubt.
He turns us around and starts to walk me backward; when the backs of my legs hit the bed, he pushes me down playfully, sidling up to me, his gaze luminous and hungry. His smirk is back – devilish and devastatingly attractive – which is only enhanced by his crimson eyes.
I bite my lip and he groans in response. My head involuntarily tips to the side as I realize that I hold some sort of power over him, at least more than I had realized. I release my lip and allow my hand to travel down to my throbbing cock, stroking it lightly, and Edward's gaze follows it, his breathing ragged as he stares at the sight.
"Fuck," he moans, his hands running greedily along my thighs and pushing them apart harshly. "You are so hot."
It's my turn to smirk now. I bite my lip again while fighting a grin. "You like that?"
"You have no fucking idea," he rasps, pulling me to the edge of the bed by my knees so that his body rests between them. He thrusts against me and my back arches off the mattress. My hands pull him down for another searing kiss, wrapping around his neck and tugging at his hair. He growls, his chest rumbling against mine, and I feel even more turned on, if that is even possible.
I'm doing this to him. I – virginal, inexperienced me – am driving him crazy. The thought emboldens me, makes me pull him closer.
Fire rages through my body as his hands roam every inch of skin that they can reach, except for the one place that I really want him to touch. I sit up, sliding back on the bed and pulling him with me by his jeans, my fingers hooked through the belt loops. He lets me, and I shove him down onto the bed beside me and straddle his waist.
Bolstered by his wanton gaze, I run my hand over the bulge in his jeans, feeling his hardness in my hand. My lips run up his neck and I nip at his earlobe. "I think these," I tell him, tugging at the front of his pants, my fingers curled inside of them, "need to go."
I nip at his ear once more before I pop the button on his jeans, slowly pulling down the zipper. The only thing separating his cock and my hand is a flimsy layer of cotton and the thought sends a jolt of electricity through me.
"Fuck," he moans as he bucks up into my hand, which now strokes him through his boxers. I focus on doing to him what I like, having never done this before.
"Just like that. Yes, faster," he instructs, and I follow, fascinated by the pleasure that plays across his sharp features. I slip my hand under his hip, lifting, and he obliges, his hips rising up so that I can pull his jeans and underwear down to his knees.
His hardened length springs free and I stare at it, watching how it bobs momentarily, the head glistening with precum. He settles back on the bed and he pulls me back down on top of him.
Our chests collide with a sound like boulders, his hand firmly around the back of my neck. He thrusts up against me as he continues to ravage my mouth, our cocks sliding deliciously against each other. It isn't long until I am back on the precipice, waiting for the thing that will tip me over the edge.
He is mumbling all sorts of nonsensical things, punctuated by frequent curses, as I grind against him, feeling the pressure build and build until I think that I am just going to explode. Something about the sparingly comprehensible things that he says urges me on through the fog of desire clouding my mind, winding me up until I think that I am going to snap like a taut string.
"Ah, fuck," he hisses as I reach between us to pinch his nipple, breathless. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck." The syllables rush out of his mouth so quickly that they almost blend into one word. I feel my impending orgasm getting closer, closer in response to his frenzied, streaming curses and needy movements.
He grabs my ass and flips us in one smooth movement, so that he hovers over me, one of his legs sliding between mine. It allows him to grind against me in a whole new way that sends a scrabbled mess of mostly unintelligible words pouring off my tongue and I can't even spare a thought for how embarrassing this should be, as I feel my body tense, his hips rocking against mine.
Sensing in that gifted way of his that I am almost ready to come undone beneath him, Edward snatches my hands from the bed and pins them above my head using one of his, propping himself up on his elbows as the fingers of his other hand thread through my hair. He yanks my head to the side, his mouth hot against my throat, and sinks his teeth into the flesh there.
The mix of pain and pleasure is too much for me. I come, arching off the bed and trembling. I am moaning loudly; Edward's thrusts become erratic and with one last jerk of his hips he is coming onto my stomach, cursing, and he collapses on top of me.
I don't have the wherewithal to move, neither of us do, and he lays on my chest for several long minutes, sticky with the evidence of what we have just done. Edward finally rolls over to lay next to me on the bed, still breathing heavily. I glance over to find him staring at the ceiling with a look akin to pure bliss saturating his smile.
"That was…" he begins, eyes closed and at a loss for words. He runs a hand through his disastrously messy hair. "That was fucking awesome." His so very red eyes find me, bright with excitement.
I nod mutely, but my mind gives him all the confirmation he needs to know that I couldn't agree more. I feel an awkward tightening sensation on my stomach and realize that I am still covered in the evidence of what we just did together, on the pale expanse of my chest. Fuck, and I had only just showered.
"I know something that can fix that," Edward whispers seductively in my ear, his fingers trailing through the sticky mess on my stomach as he turns on his side, his face mere inches from mine.
He is so confident, so strong, as he pulls me off the bed toward the shower. I can't help but feel buoyed, thrumming with anticipation, as I trail eagerly behind him, his hand in mine.
Finally, our boys get around to naughty things ;) If you enjoyed it, don't forget to leave a review.