The Devil Next Door

by BodiceRippersContest

Bella has had fantasy after agonizing fantasy about her new wickedly-sexy bronze-haired neighbour, who never leaves his house before sunset. One evening, she decides to risk it all and follow him into the dark for a night that will forever etch itself into her memory. (BDSM/OOC)

Story Title: The Devil Next Door

Summary: Bella has had fantasy after agonizing fantasy about her new wickedly-sexy bronze-haired neighbour, who never leaves his house before sunset. One evening, she decides to risk it all and follow him into the dark for a night that will forever etch itself into her memory. (BDSM/OOC)

Word Count: 11.1K+

Disclaimer: The author does not own any publicly recognizable characters herein. No copyright infringement is intended.

Part I: Sugar

*Bella's Point of View*

When the bronze-haired man temporarily moved in the Airbnb next door, I didn't think too much of it. After all, travelers came and went on an almost weekly basis here, in Port Angeles. I couldn't really blame them - this town was not the epitome of fun. But this man... he was different. He lingered. In the heart of this dead-end town, he had somehow found a reason to overstay his welcome. A whole month had passed since I had first caught a glimpse of him through his window and he was still here. Always going out once a week, always after twilight, always alone. And his presence… it was doing things to me. He intrigued me and incited me in ways that no man had managed to before.

The worst part though? I didn't even know his name.

And I wasn't willing to risk my dignity by knocking on his door just to ask him. At least not yet. I wasn't desperate, just curious. It was human nature to be interested in the man with a ridiculously chiseled jaw who lived next door; to wonder why he always had a frown on his face when he went out; to question why his eyes turned ice-cold whenever he gazed in the direction of the little ranch-style house I was sharing with Angela. It was also human nature to imagine him on top of me each night before I fell asleep.

Or maybe not. But I had my reasons.

It all started a few nights after he had arrived here. I was fast-asleep when a noise from outside rang loud enough to awake me from my deep sleep. Through my dreamy haze, I stumbled my way across the room, until I reached the window. For all I knew, a cat in heat could have been the culprit behind the noise, it wouldn't have been the first time. But the street was dead-silent by the time I dared to crack open the window and peek outside. And that's when I saw him: on the other side of the street, sitting at his own window, barely a shadow in the dim light of his bedroom. Piercingly black eyes, jaws tightened, shoulders tense. At first, I was convinced I was hallucinating. But he didn't move, allowing me to realize that everything was most definitely real. I stared in awe, aware that he was staring right back, but I was too caught up under the force of this unspoken connection to do anything else.

Something about the way his eyes penetrated through the dead of the night and right into my core set my insides ablaze, fully awakening me from my slumber. Without completely understanding the sentiment, I found myself melting under his gaze, ready to do whatever he would have asked me to. The potent fire converted itself into a hot fountain of desire in nanoseconds, that left my underwear soaking. He disappeared too soon from my sight, leaving me more confused - and aroused - than I had ever felt in my life. So, for the first time in ages, I cuddled myself under the blankets and pleased myself to sleep, wetting the sheets underneath me when I came and allowing myself to imagine the face of the handsome stranger lowering to clean up the mess between my legs.

The next morning, I woke up feeling a thousand shades of guilty. But when the night came again, the reminder of his eyes staring me down through the darkness came back like a violent comet, reducing me into nothingness. Before I knew it, I was back underneath the blankets, biting hard into my pillows as my orgasms washed over me, silently hoping that Angela would not hear my muffled gasps. Then the day that followed, I made the delightful mistake of staring out the window again when the night came. And there he was, just as I had been hoping: sending delicious daggers with his eyes my way.

I realized I might have an actual problem when my frugal activities turned into an everyday nighttime ritual. The one thing I kept thinking about as I was taking notes during my morning classes was him. The god-like stranger from next door, whose name was still a mystery to me. The stranger who could apparently bring me to climax just by looking in my direction. He had taken over my senses and there was hardly anything I could do about it. As Angela was recalling the events of her day, I only wanted the night to come faster, so that I could lock myself in my room and silently climax my way to DreamLand.

A part of me was aware of how ridiculous this entire thing was. Just a few months ago, I was trying to explain to Angela that I most definitely wasn't interested in having sex again anytime soon - not after Jacob had completely butchered the few times we had tried to do it. Of course, those few bad attempts at sex weren't the sole reason I had had to break up with him, but they certainly hadn't helped when added to the balance of things that would have never worked between us.

But I couldn't bring myself to ponder on what now felt like such an insignificant part of my past. Because, for whatever twisted reason, my entire centre of gravity had shifted in the direction of a man I didn't even know. I couldn't help but wonder what his deal was. Maybe he was a drug dealer - that could explain his late-night outings. But then again, he didn't exactly look the part. After all, drug dealers should not look as if they had just stepped out of a Hollywood movie set.

Or maybe he liked the night scene of Port Angeles - that could explain the black leather jacket he always seemed to be wearing when stepping outside the rented house. Or… he had a girlfriend and he was paying her nightly visits. This thought troubled me and saddened me at the same time. If I had been fantasizing about a man who was already taken, I was in the wrong. But deep inside, I hated the idea of him already belonging to someone else, as irrational as the thought itself was.

Aware that this was no way to live, I decided to confront him. It had taken over a month of painful dwellings, but seeing that he was not going anywhere anytime soon, I gathered enough courage to walk up to his door and knock. With Angela visiting her folks in Forks, just like she did every weekend, I didn't even have to come up with some crazy explanation for my gesture. I simply grabbed a small cup from the counter of the kitchen and headed to my destination, feeling that my plan of asking for sugar might be a little too tongue-in-cheek, but also being resigned to the fact that it was my best shot to at least see the stranger up-close.

But he didn't answer. And I knew for a fact that he was home, since mere hours later, he exited his house nonchalantly, risking a glance towards my house. Damned bastard. That didn't really stop me from getting hot and bothered once again when the night fell, but I refused to allow myself to go there after the way I had been ignored. And I failed, but that was an entirely different story.

But I didn't back down, even when my better instincts and my dignity screamed at me to just let it drop. But it was Sunday and Angela wasn't returning until Monday morning and I had already finished all of the chores for the day. I could use a distraction.

This time around, I waited until the sun disappeared from the sky. My heart was pumping so loudly I could barely focus on keeping a straight line as I made my way to his door. I knocked reluctantly, praying that I wouldn't make a fool of myself again. He didn't answer right away. I was beginning to lose hope as I was counting the seconds in my head. But much to my surprise, the sound of a lock being unlocked resonated in the air and the door opened.

And there he was, in all his glory. Dressed in a white T-Shirt and black sweatpants, the stranger was obviously ready for yet another night in. The way the fabrics clung to what I could guess was an unfairly perfect and sculpted body sent my mind into a frenzy, making me momentarily forget whatever it was that I was supposed to say. It was tough to move my eyes from the hidden planes of his chest, but it had to be done. His eyes were the first thing I noticed - jet black, but something felt off. However, I quickly became distracted by other things: such as the sharp contour of his clenched jaw or the unexpected plumpness of his lips - a plumpness I had never noticed from afar.

"Yes?" he offered in an even tone.

His voice was crushed velvet, drizzling with honey. It didn't help me gain my reason back.

"Hello," I mumbled lamely.

"Hello, Miss."

Think, think, think. Why was I here again? I stared down, noticing the cup in my hands. Sugar, yes. One step at a time. I could do this.

"I live next door," I explained, making a real effort not to stutter. "I was wondering if you had some sugar to spare… mine ran out."

"This is an Airbnb, what makes you think I'd have any sugar laying around?"

The neutral tone he had used before disappeared, making room for ice to seep inside his voice. For reasons that were completely out of my control, this made my bones melt.

"I noticed you've been staying here for a while," I managed, deciding that this was not the time to turn sheepish - at least not on the outside.

"And out of all your long-term neighbours, you thought to ask me," he sighed, and I couldn't tell whether he was annoyed or disappointed. "What's your name?"

"Bella… I mean Isabella Swan."

"I'll tell you what, Isabella. You came to the wrong house."

I noticed his hands had clenched into fists when he called my name. I wondered how it would feel if they clenched around my hips.

"So next time you're looking for sugar or salt or flour or whichever item is missing from your kitchen, feel free to skip my door."

His words froze me in place, colder than the Northern Pole. I couldn't really remember the sassy remark I had tried to conjure, for he had already closed the door, leaving me there, without any other explanations. Then, the realization hit me: I didn't even get his name.

I felt my face burning from shame as I made my way across the street and back inside my house. That night, I simply refused to look out the window, to see if he was in his usual spot. The shame persisted, staying with me all through dinner and my long shower. But it wasn't my shame that annoyed me. It was the fact that the flames in the pit of my stomach had not withered along with the stranger's glacial words, as they should have. If anything, they had multiplied, so much so that my brain seemed to be ready to forget all about the embarrassment from earlier.

That night, I dreamed of the stranger's hands clenching around my throat and his velvet voice calmly - but icily - describing all the ways in which he was going to fuck me.

When I woke up in the middle of the night, covered in a thin veil of sweat, the solution to my problems seemed simpler than ever. I slept like a baby through the rest of the night, confident that in almost a week from now, my annoyingly handsome and arguably rude neighbour would no longer be nameless.

Part II: Spice

*Edward's Point of View*

Most nights, the burning in my chest meant two simple things: I craved to fuck, but also to drain sweet, innocent Isabella, whose thoughts were seemingly under lock and key. It was never one or the other - perhaps except when I was listening to the delicate sounds of her orgasms right before she fell asleep. Those were the times when the first craving put the other one to shame. And what was I to do? With her long mahogany locks - begging to be pulled, her round insolent ass - almost asking to be spanked, her pouty asymmetric lips - perfectly sculpted to fit around my cock, I had never stood a chance, not even when I was still denying my needs.

Not only once had I ached to know what it was that got her so riled up, so quickly. I noticed her mood had started the night some stray cats knocked over a bin. She happened to open her window to check just seconds after I had opened my own, to let some of the night breeze get inside. And that was when it hit me for the first time: the warm June air carried her scent to me instantly, breaking all of my barriers with its potency. It was so thick and syrupy that I could almost taste it on my tongue, despite the distance. I stood there frozen for the longest moment, debating whether I should jump out and go over to her bedroom, to seal her fate and sate my hunger, or remain there and wait for my next hunting trip.

But then her cheeks got inundated with more blood, a delicious flush painting her face as she stared through the darkness, and I understood that there was no simple resolve to my dilemma. I moved away from the window, in a bid to gain back control of my reason. Not even three minutes after this most peculiar encounter, I heard her: a soft sigh at first. Then a gasp full of unspoken longing. Then the almost imperceptible sound of her fingers rubbing against something wet. Then the moans. Again and again and again. Until she sighed once more and fell into a deep sleep. I stood in the middle of the room, transfixed, slowly realizing the fact that my cock was now rock-hard, standing at attention. I refused to do anything about it - after all, she was nothing but a little insignificant mortal, not worth my attention. If I truly wanted to get my rocks off, there was always Tanya - although I hadn't called her in almost a decade, so that was probably not the wisest idea.

The next day, I went out hunting downtown, so I had no idea what happened in my absence. But two nights later, the girl looked out the window and our eyes met once again, way after midnight, and history repeated itself. I got another chance to listen to her little erotic spectacle just minutes after she disappeared from the window. I fought the instinct to get myself off with all I had, trying to remind myself that she was nothing more than an annoyingly delicious human, who liked to stare out the window at night. But by the time the sun rose, I had already imagined a hundred different scenarios in which I could have possessed her. All perverse, most ending with her barren of any blood.

And all making me come in thick torrents of venom all over the glass walls of the shower.

I had never intended to stay more than two weeks here, yet that second night sealed my fate nonetheless. The girl - Bella, as I had learned while catching glimpses of her conversations with her housemate - seemed to only leave her house to attend her classes at Peninsula College, to visit the nearby library or to do some groceries. There was no in-between, according to my observations. And by God, I would have found some reason to insinuate myself into her uneventful life by now, but I liked to believe I still had some common sense left - enough not to make such an idiotic mistake.

The day she came to my door had been a surprise. Saturday, at noon, right when the damned sun was shining above in all its glory. I ignored the knocking, thankful for the fact that I had a good enough excuse to keep myself away from her. But her narcotic scent lingered in the air long after she gave up and went back home, making my throat erupt with pain. I went out hunting as soon as I got the chance. But then the next day… Bella knocked again. This time at evening time.

And as soon as I had my contacts on, I answered - just to set things straight with her, of course. But seeing her up-close made things harder on all fronts. On one hand, there was the delicious scent emanating from her pores in thick waves, making her perfectly edible. On the other, the way her tight camisole stuck to her demure curves made her look so ridiculously fuckable, that my cock immediately stood up, begging for immediate attention.

I figured rudeness was my best bet to keep the girl away from the imminent threat of who I was - because I would bite, no questions asked, if I had a proper chance. With her thoughts revealing nothing, I had no idea if my plan had worked. All I knew was that when I closed the door, her cheeks were painted with the most delicious red hue I had ever seen. That night, she went to sleep without succumbing to her nightly ritual. I heard her fumbling around the bed until the early hours of morning - and then, for whatever reason, she calmed down enough to sleep properly.

That should have been my cue to leave and never return to this little corner of the world until at least half a century had passed. But my curiosity kept me captive further, beyond my control. When I told Arlene, my host, that I would be extending my stay for another week, she didn't seem to mind. Throughout that week, I had expected Bella to at least tell her roommate about what happened when she was gone. Instead, she didn't even mention me. Furthermore, she kept the curtains closed, never peeking out the window again. And even more peculiar - she seemed to have left her nighttime activities completely behind. I didn't realize how much I craved to hear her soft moans until the nights became unnervingly quiet.

By the time the weekend rolled in, I was convinced that she had decided to forget me. It wasn't surprising - humans could only keep themselves focused on something or someone for so long. Besides, if she had any dignity, she had no reason to even glance my way after the way I had behaved.

When I went out Saturday night to hunt, the last thing I had expected was to have both of these convictions shattered to the ground.

At first, I thought I was hallucinating - it seemed like the more reasonable option when I heard footsteps, but no thoughts, coming from three hundred feet behind me. I didn't have to turn around to see who that was; the wind carrying the hypnotizing scent my way was enough. But what was she doing? Going out? She never went out at such hours, if her schedule was anything to go by. Unless… she was meeting with someone.

I was both fascinated and worried - Port Angeles wasn't always the friendliest place for a young woman walking alone at night. I almost wanted to turn around and offer to accompany her to whatever place she was heading towards, but that might have been a little too conspicuous. Instead, I kept walking in a straight line, only turning left or right when the road bifurcated. I was hoping Bella's path would, at some point, diverge from mine - that way, I could turn around and follow her, just to make sure she would be safe. But her path never wavered.

When I turned left, she turned left. When I turned right, she turned right. When I slowed down, she slowed down. When I stopped to fake-check my watch, she stopped. And just like that, it dawned on me: the little vixen was following me. Intrigued, I decided to play along.

Another half an hour of walking and turning, just to see what she would do next, led me nowhere. Wondering just how far she would go in her quest, I turned right between two residential buildings, squeezing myself in the narrow space between them and waiting. And whoever said that good things come to those who wait was right, because mere minutes later, Bella stopped, squinting her eyes at the darkness of the passageway. I felt venom flooding my mouth as soon as her fragrance made its presence known in the air, but I swallowed it immediately, so that I could speak properly. Maybe this would teach her a lesson about walking alone at night.

"Did you get lost, Isabella?"

She jumped up and gasped, almost as if she was not expecting my voice to come from the darkness. I stepped ahead, so that the light of the street lamps could reach my face. Instead of recoiling at the sight of my dark eyes - the reaction any sane human was supposed to have - her eyes widened, seemingly forgetting that she was supposed to say something in return.

"You're following me," I said, leaving no room for contradiction.

The way she bit her lip awoke my other thirst in an instant. It didn't help that her shirt was just thin enough to allow the black lace of her bra to peek through. Fuck, no. I was not getting hard just from seeing the damned fabric of a bra. I was better than this.

But then again, maybe I wasn't, since the zipper of my jeans felt ready to explode.

"I was," she admitted.

"Not the smartest idea, don't you think?"

As I waited for an answer, I couldn't help but notice how erratic her pulse was - even more so than the day when we first talked. Along with her dilated pupils, it didn't take me long to recognize the sentiment behind her actions: arousal. I had seen it before in women, both human and vampire. And while Tanya had been the only one to have that arousal quenched by me, back when we were still traveling together, this felt different. There was something more, something I could not exactly pinpoint, in Bella's excitement, that made it feel more genuine.

"I was wondering what your deal is," she offered.

I raised one eyebrow in suspicion.

"My deal?"

"Yes, you always go out at night. But only once a week."

Oh. Not what I expected. Damn her unreachable mind.

"Why so curious?" I asked.

She shrugged, looking away right when her blush started coming in.

"You've followed me all the way here and now you don't want to talk?"

"Maybe it was a bad idea."

She stepped back, but she didn't really seem ready to leave just yet. Maybe I could take advantage of her indecisiveness, if only a little. And maybe… I could keep that blush, if I said the right things. I reached out to grab her wrist, pulling her a step closer to me. Flames washed upon me, scorching and merciless. Goddamn, I wanted her in so many ways...

"I thought you got the cue when you knocked on my door," I said. "But it seems that you're stubborn."

"I just thought… with you looking out your window... at me... several nights in a row..."

"You give me the impression that you're either bored out of your mind or an adrenaline junkie."

I was only half-joking - and also praying for her to be the latter.

"It's not exactly adrenaline that I'm looking for…" she murmured.

Going by the way the scent of arousal seemed to compete with the transfixing essence of her blood, it was no surprise. I felt as if I was minutes away from doing something terribly reckless - such as pinning her against the wall, fucking her in the darkness and draining her dry. In that exact order.

"Hmmm, I don't think it is adrenaline either," I smiled, dragging her between the buildings, so that we could stand face to face. "Let's see… are you scared right now?"

"No," she let out with a shaky voice, leaning against the concrete wall behind her.

"Then alarmed?"

"No."

"A little terrified?" I pushed.

"No."

"Surely you're at least agitated."

"No," she insisted.

"Distressed?"

"No."

"Aroused?"

"Yes."

Her eyes widened when she realized what she had just said, and I smiled. Things were taking a rather pleasant turn, but I felt a little bad for playing with what could be the easiest prey ever. I was not being fair.

Inhaling the delirious smell of her - blood and wetness and warmth - I decided I could not care about the blacks and whites of my moral compass. Tonight, I wanted my world to be fully grey. With that in mind, I allowed my hands to rest on her waist as I came closer, until our bodies were pressed together. I was aware she could now feel my erection pressing against her belly, but I could not be bothered - she deserved to know what she was doing to me.

"Yes, I watch you every night," I said, feeling liberated just from uttering these words out loud. "Just like you watch me."

"Why?"

"Because you incite me. I look at you… and the only thing that goes through my mind is how to possess you."

The tremor of her breath paired fantastically with her other body responses: the blood inundating her pulse points, the parted lips, the rapid heartbeat. I ground myself against her, craving to discover just how wet she was underneath the layers of clothing. Craving to see if she tasted as alluring as she smelled.

"H-here?" she managed.

"Here. In your room. In my room. I could fuck you in a variety of places, if given the chance."

Her little surprised gasp made me grow harder against her body and the only thing stopping me were the thoughts of a group of party-goers coming from a few feet away. Well, that and the fact that the situation was getting out of hand quicker than a freight train.

"But you're not the type, are you?" I continued, channeling my attention on her face - away from those tempting curves, away from that delicious neck.

"What do you mean?"

"The type who would agree to go to a stranger's place… just like that."

"Tell me your name then."

I couldn't help but laugh - as if knowing my name would have changed anything. But it was only fair to share it. After all, I knew hers.

"My name is Edward Masen," I said, going higher up with my hands, dangerously close to her breasts. I felt her heartbeat picking up right under my palm.

"A pleasure to meet you, Edward."

"Oh, it will be," I smiled.

Her fingers slipped through the small space between two buttons, underneath my shirt, hot like wildfire against my skin. The sensation made my head spin, for a second almost forgetting that she was supposed to at least shiver a little from the temperature difference. But she didn't.

"What will you do to me?"

"Hmmm, I haven't decided yet," I replied.

The two possibilities were equally desirable. Fuck her and drink her to her last breath, no strings attached to the deal. Or fuck her, let her sleep, and fuck her some more the morning after.

"Why not?" she whispered, right as I allowed one hand to roam higher, brushing slightly against the inviting flesh of her breast, until it reached her neck. The way her blood danced right under my palm… so easy to reach...

"Because I might hurt you... and I'm not sure that's something you'd like."

That should have been enough to make her understand that it was perhaps best to leave. Instead, she moaned softly right when my hand clamped around her neck, and the scent of her arousal almost overpowered the sap in her veins.

"Take me to your place," she decided.

Blessed be her human innocence. I cupped her face in my palm, dying to know how her brain heard the words 'I might hurt you' and made such a perilous decision.

"What exactly do you think is going to happen when we go back to my place?"

"Uhm… well…" - her voice was shaky as she spoke - "you said you would fuck me... but that you also may hurt me."

"Yes."

"Then I'm guessing… you're into… you know... bondage... or sadistic stuff. Or both?"

My hand froze in place on her cheek.

"Bondage?" I repeated, quite bewildered at her assumption. It wasn't that I hadn't tried such things before - it was inevitable when you lived for over a century - it was just that she looked… too soft for any of those things. But the idea started driving my imagination crazy before I could even do something about it. Bella tied up... at my mercy... not a chance in sight to move. Goddamn, the things I could do then. What would stop me from ruining her neck if she couldn't even protest? My mouth flooded with venom at the thought.

No, focus. I could control myself. Even if she smelled like all my dreams and nightmares coming true at once.

"Isn't that what you meant?"

"It is," I smiled, new possibilities unraveling in my mind. There was a roll of duct tape in the living room. And cords on the bathrobes Arlene had given me. And the belt of my jeans could use an improvement in the way it was being used. And God only knew what could follow after. "Bondage and sadistic stuff is exactly what I meant."

Her breath hitched as my hand moved to the nape of her neck, squeezing the fragile flesh carefully. She closed her eyes when I leaned in, inhaling everything that she had to offer.

"I've never done something like this before," she whispered.

"There's a start for everything."

I watched her lips quiver as I got closer. If Heaven and Hell existed, we were about to have a taste of both. The tree of the knowledge of good and evil had never been as reachable as it was now. I had no idea why Eve had chosen to fall prey, but I could understand perfectly why the Devil had chosen to lure her specifically.

And just like that, our mouths met. Gently. Fire on ice. Then fiercer, when the heat burned through the cold, reducing it to nothingness.

Bella gasped, her mouth opening under the contact and her tongue finding mine, in an irresistible attempt to deepen the connection. I groaned and pulled her closer out of instinct, momentarily forgetting about my other thirst. She was so soft and warm and ready to be taken and I couldn't comprehend how I had lived so long without this. As I tried to find an answer, I felt her hands in my hair, pulling and tugging with rapacity. Carefully, I took each wrist in my hands and pulled them behind her back. We might as well start the games early.

Feeling the lack of resistance reminded me just how facile it would be to feed from her, right here. Maybe there were ways around my hunger.

"I want you to choose your safeword," I murmured, convinced that this was one of those ways. "Now."

It took her a few seconds of stuttering, but in the end she managed to get it out:

"Sugar."

I pulled back, raising an eyebrow at her little tongue-in-cheek reference. The blush invading her cheeks was more than pleasant to observe. Mouth-watering to the extreme, if I had to be honest. I planned to be the cause behind it several times tonight.

"Sugar it is," I agreed. "Say it if it gets too much."

She nodded enthusiastically - but deep down, I prayed to never hear that damned word.

Part III: Everything Nice

*Bella's Point of View*

My head was swimming with a million thoughts when he slammed the door shut behind us, wasting no time as he picked me up from the floor. We had been having a hard time keeping our hands off each other on the way back to his rented house. But now that we were finally inside, all bets were off.

This was happening. This was really happening. My unfairly handsome neighbour - who finally had a name, Edward - was on the verge of bringing my fantasies alive. I had not even dreamed about this turn of events when I decided to follow him into the night, yet here we were.

I was a little too distracted by his lips traveling up and down my neck to notice the surroundings as he moved me around through several rooms - not that I could notice much, in the crippling darkness of the house. But I could feel his scent all around me: lilac dipped in honey and left in the sunlight, dazzling my already overwhelmed senses.

The one thing bringing some of my reason back was the moment he opened a door and turned on the light. I blinked rapidly, trying to adjust my eyes to the sudden brightness, right as he placed me on the large bed by the wall. This room felt cozy, with its pale-merigold walls and the wood furniture, but somehow… impersonal. There seemed to be no personal belongings in sight, other than a few neatly-folded clothes peeking from the racks of the wardrobe.

Caught in studying the room, I had not realized that Edward had been holding something in his hands until he placed the items on the floor. I tried to take a peek, but I had not been fast enough - he made his way on top of me, making me stay put with his capable hands.

"No spying," he admonished me.

"I was curious."

"You know what happens to curious cats."

The playful threat in his voice made my insides tremble with need. I nodded affirmatively right as he reached to trace the contour of my lips with his index finger. The touch sent shivers down my spine - and it wasn't because his temperature seemed to be lower than mine, for whatever reason.

"Where do I start with you, Bella?" he queried.

I felt his finger going lower as he spoke, sliding against my neck and stopping when he reached the first button of my blouse.

"What?" I repeated, a little dazed.

"Right now I want nothing more than to fuck you. But that would be too easy, wouldn't it?"

My pulse quickened immediately, as if on demand, when he started unbuttoning my blouse. I really, really had nothing against the idea of him just getting down to business.

"I'd be okay with that," I admitted.

A crooked smile appeared on his lips and before I could muse properly over its perfection, Edward leaned over and kissed me. His lips felt cold and firm against mine, the perfect antidote to my ever-raising temperature. When the tip of his tongue brushed against my lower lip, I didn't know what else to do, so I listened to my body and wrapped my limbs around him, trying to get him to press his erection against me once more.

"I'm thinking of playing a little game," he offered, pulling back too soon and interrupting my attempts. "Let's call it yes-more-please".

His eyes studied me intently as he pushed my now-unbuttoned blouse off of me. There was hunger in them, but there was also something… more. I could not understand exactly what. But I felt like I could melt under his gaze if he kept at it.

"Tell me what to do," I managed, not really caring if I sounded desperate or not. Because, truth be told, I was desperate at this point. I had been staring at the commanding bulge in his pants for a good portion of the road back home and it wasn't easy to keep a clear line of thoughts with that image in my mind.

"There's only one rule - starting now, you may only communicate using these three words: 'yes', 'more' and 'please'. Understood?"

His voice left no room for hesitation on my part.

"Yes," I said.

"Very good. Now here's how this is going to go: I will tie you up. Hands and legs. And we'll see how far you'll let me take you."

"Yes."

The fluttering feeling in my stomach multiplied tenfold when his hands started roaming down my bare ribs, over my stomach and on to my hips. He unzipped my jeans with ease and rolled them off of me, until all I was left in were my bra and underwear. I realized I should have felt some type of bashful to be seen like this - after all, my lingerie didn't even match - if my limited experience with Jacob could serve as any indication. Instead, the searing, trickling feeling between my legs grew stronger as Edward's palms slid underneath my back, to unhook my bra.

"I should probably mention that if you happen to slip and use any other words, there will be consequences."

I swallowed the questions on my tongue and waited for him to elaborate. But he didn't.

"Do you remember your safeword?"

"Yes," I responded.

"Remember to use it if those consequences get to be too much."

I nodded in agreement, already feeling like a wire stretched to its maximum capacity, although he had barely touched me. The idea of those consequences was both frightening and arousing. What a peculiar mix.

As Edward removed my bra, I noticed that he was still fully clothed. That was hardly fair. Careful not to break his rules, I reached out to touch the buttons of his shirt.

"Please?" I checked under my breath.

It took him a few seconds, but he understood. With the same smile that drove me crazy moments before, he got rid of his shirt, throwing it on the growing pile of clothes at the edge of the bed, along with my bra. Then, without any other words, he retreated enough so that I could see him, his eyes growing darker as they left my face and stopped on my exposed breasts.

There was no time to wonder whether he liked what he saw or not. He had probably seen better, but I couldn't care, because… Good Lord, the way Edward looked without a shirt gave the word 'breathtaking' a whole new meaning. He walked that thin line between being muscular and being lean, which made it seem as if he wasn't even trying to be so drop-dead gorgeous, he just was. His muscles weaved in beautiful patterns underneath his ivory skin and I could swear his proportions were somehow better than those of a Greek statue.

He was definitely better than my fantasies.

I only realized I had been staring like an idiot for what must have been a minute when I felt his fingers tracing circles around my nipples. The touch woke me up in an instant, making the cravings in me almost painful.

"You're absolutely beautiful," he cooed, his voice warmer than before. "I don't know how I'll stop once I get started."

His thumb and index fingers locked around one of my nipples and twisted it around. He hadn't been too aggressive, but my back arched and I moaned at the way this touch sent shivers down my spine.

"Hmmm, you like a little pain?"

"Yes… more."

He repeated the motion, a little more pressure this time around, and bent over me until his mouth engulfed my other nipple. The combined sensations were too much to handle. I grabbed his hair and lifted my hips off the mattress, desperate to feel his hardness - and frustrated when he pushed me back on the bed.

"Patience," was all he said and, to my disappointment, left my nipples alone.

But my disappointment didn't last long. His kisses returned soon - and along with them, his hands started kneading my breasts, pinching the flesh every now and then and sending daggers of pleasure to my core. I almost didn't realize that his right hand flew lower in the process, close to the elastic band of my underwear.

My heart started raging in my chest, now that he was closer to where I needed him to be. His sudden low growl startled me - had I done anything that would be considered breaking the rules?

He must have noticed the sudden stress in my body, because he rushed to speak immediately after.

"You're doing perfect so far."

His hand moved further down, until it reached between my legs. He lingered at the apex of my high, moving slowly - so very slowly - until his fingertips arrived on the drenched cotton fibers of my underwear.

"Mmmmm, what do we have here?" he cooed, retreating to look at my face. "Do you always get this wet?"

I nodded 'no', because there was no way I had ever been as aroused as I was now. And the way he stared me down in this moment, with the same intensity that he held when he watched me from afar, made the aching need in my stomach pulsate violently.

"Please?" I whispered, hoping that he would get the cue.

"Hold that enthusiasm, I haven't even started, sweetheart."

I groaned with frustration, right as he pushed my underwear to the side, sliding one long finger along my glistening slit. Sounds escaped from our mouths in unison - delight and surprise, merging together.

"Oh, you're already good and ready to be fucked, Isabella, I love this. You're dripping."

Edward added another finger, this time finding my clitoris and tugging with care at its hood. I trembled, heat radiating from the contact in an instant. He played like this for a while, building me up, only to bring me back down when I was close. A few minutes into this exquisite torture, I felt his index finger diving inside, right as his thumb was working me up to another almost-orgasm with the way it massaged my clit. The shock of surprise made me wriggle and cry out under him, and I barely collected myself to utter a despaired 'more'.

"Of course your tight little cunt wants more," he teased, inserting another finger in, not once stopping his back and forth rubbing on my bundle of nerves with his thumb. "Look how wet it is for me. And I bet it tastes fucking delicious too."

There was not much I could do besides giving in to the sensations he brought with his masterful hand. I noticed in passing he had his other hand clenched in a tight fist, away from me, while he kept pumping in and out of my body, but I could not find it in me to care enough to wonder why that was.

But frustratingly enough, he stopped again.

I watched him with bewilderment, as he pulled back and started licking the fingers that had been inside me seconds ago. When he groaned, I almost fainted. The sound was so primal, so seductive, that it set my insides ablaze with the same force that his touches did.

"Even better than I thought," he decided.

Instead of coming back, like I was hoping he would, he raised up from the bed, allowing me to see his perfect form: the appetizing, tense muscles of his chest, the defined lines of his abdomen, the inviting 'V' line just above the waist of his jeans… and then, the most taunting, sinful sight: his erection pushing against the rough fabric, announcing something that I was not entirely sure if I could take.

But that didn't mean I wasn't dying to try.

"Let's get this started, shall we?" he offered and, despite the politeness of his words, his hoarse voice held a sharp edge, almost like a warning.

"Yes."

"I want you to close your eyes while I get you ready. Do it now."

I didn't think twice, my lids falling down at his command.

"Good girl," he encouraged me. "Hands above your head."

Once again, I did as told.

"Perfect. And part those beautiful legs for me."

Eager to listen to his wishes, I parted my thighs, wondering how visible the stain of my excitement on my underwear was. But I didn't have to wonder for long, because his fingers grabbed the flimsy elastic of my briefs and rolled it over my hips, down my thighs, past my knees and, in the end, got me out of them.

Realizing that I was now completely nude in front of him, I felt compelled to open my eyes, to see his face again. But when my eyelids fluttered, I felt it: his fingers grabbed one nipple tight and twisted it around, a little rougher than the first time he did this. I whimpered and squeezed my eyes shut in response.

"Those eyes remain closed for now, Isabella. Understand?"

I nodded affirmatively, only to feel his fingers pinching my nipple again.

"I want to hear you."

"Yes!"

I tried to make sense of what he was doing when he let go of my breast, but all I could tell was that he wasn't moving. No sounds were coming from where he was supposed to be. Then, with a touch so deliriously gentle it made my head spin, I felt his fingers parting my wet folds, bathing in the liquids that had been collecting at my entrance.

"I've never seen something as beautiful," he said. "You're making it real hard not to fuck you right now."

All I was capable of was to raise my hips from the mattress and mewl as he explored me thoroughly. I felt like I could combust if I didn't come soon. Edward seemed to have a different train of thought when - for what now felt like the hundredth time - stopped his touches. I heard a series of different sounds ripping through the air: the soft rustle of a fabric and the harsh noise of duct tape being ripped. I didn't know what was happening until I felt sticky nylon on my wrists.

And it dawned on me: he was immobilizing me, just as he had promised.

I felt the gauze of the tape clinging to my skin as he rolled it around both of my wrists, making them prisoners together. With my eyes closed, I had to focus on my other senses better - and that was when my brain made me fully aware of the scent emanating from his pores. It was sweet in a glacial way and it didn't smell like any perfume I knew. It made my mouth water.

Still trying to recover from that feverish realization, I had not realized that he had finished my wrists and he was now focused on my legs. This time, there was no sticky tape clutching my skin. His hands parted my legs further, moving my ankles until they almost touched my bottom, and started wrapping something soft around me, binding my thighs and calves together one by one.

"Does it hurt?" he checked.

I felt pressure, but no pain, so I signaled a silent 'no'.

"Can you move?"

The raspiness in his voice made me grow weaker. I tried to switch my legs around - in vain, of course, since they were tightly wrapped.

"Now that's magnificent, Bella. Open your eyes."

With his blessing, I did. Looking around, the first thing I could see were the blue cords keeping my legs compact and in place. They extended to wrap and knot around the bedposts. Upon further inspection, they looked like something you would find on a bathrobe - which was exactly why the sturdy pressure they put on my skin was surprising. Then, as I refocused my glance, I saw Edward. With his back to the ceiling and half of his body on the bed, he smiled from between my legs.

"It's time to see how you taste when you come," he muttered, his glance not breaking away from mine when he leaned over to press his lips against my wet flesh.

I gasped in shock and my body immediately demanded more, so I tried to push my hips up. But with the cords keeping me in place, it was downright impossible.

"Please… please…" I tried to get him to do something - anything - to relieve the unbearable need for him.

And thank God, he listened.

His mouth opened and I felt his ice-cool tongue roaming around, its tip flicking my engorged clit back and forth. Unable to do anything else apart from taking the precise motions of his mouth, I moaned - loudly, with no shame, again and again, knowing that there were no neighbours or housemates to wake up. Edward brought me to the edge in a ridiculously short amount of time, but I shouldn't have been surprised: with the way he teased me before, I didn't need too much to arrive there.

My body started tensing up in a way that I knew too well, starting from my very core. I held on to the sensation, not willing to lose it again if he stopped now. But he persisted, licking me and watching me as I fell prey to his force. I had been all too used to seeing his dark eyes looking at me through a window, in the middle of the night. Now that those very same eyes were scouring me, as he licked and lapped between my legs, my instincts took the reins and they pushed me off the precipice I had been dangling on. And I fell right into the abyss.

I screamed as the pleasure exploded in me, dispersing in dozens of little waves that shook me from head to toe. Unable to move, the pleasure only intensified, filling my every tissue with a rapture that could not have been described in a single language.

"I could eat you up," he purred, his nose pushing against my sensitive spot.

As my orgasm subsided, I thought I would have time to recover. But Edward didn't seem to be keen on wasting any more time, so his lips sealed around the wet mess between my legs once more, this time accompanying his licking with his fingers. His index finger sunk inside me, followed immediately by the middle one, stretching me out. The spellbound fullness took me aback in the best way.

"More, please!" I begged.

His ring finger made its way in me, joining the other two, defeating the resistance of my inner walls. I felt the three fingers moving around, back and forth, exploring me, and I wanted more than anything for them to be replaced by his cock.

"More," I tried again.

He had to know what I meant, because I heard him chuckle against my slit. However, he acted clueless when his fingers curled up inside me, hitting a new spot, making me almost scream from how good it felt. Mindful of his effect on me, Edward repeated the motion slowly, eliciting the same response from me.

And, before I knew it, his fingers picked up their pace, rubbing against that special place, building a new kind of pressure in me. The novelty of what I was feeling made me lose track of everything else. I gave in to the powerful sensations, letting them take me wherever they wanted.

Once again, my inability to move only added to the pleasure when my climax finally hit. But this climax was completely different from what I was used to.

With Edward's fingers still working tirelessly inside me, a gush of liquids poured out of me, directly into his mouth. And then another immediately after. And when the fingers pushed onward with force, another.

"Fuck, Edward, yes!" I cried in shock, trying to comprehend the sheer force of my orgasm.

His growl resonated in the room, fierce and strong. It wasn't until he removed his fingers and retreated from between my legs with a scolding look on his face that I understood what was happening.

I had broken the one rule of the game.

"What did I tell you?"

I had not been fully prepared for the asperity of his voice. My body was still shaking from the ripples of my orgasm, trying to recover, while also craving more. I felt numbness in my legs, which only served to make the tingling inside me feel stronger.

"I'm sorry," I said rushedly.

"You look pretty damn pleased, I doubt that."

Well… I was pretty damn pleased. There was no way I could hide that from him.

"I really am sorry," I added unconvincingly.

"No, I don't think you are, but you will be."

When he stood up from the bed, the inciting sight of his bulge caught my attention once again. If I could, I would have ripped those jeans off of him from the moment we had stepped inside the house.

Realizing that I had already broken the rule, I decided to risk a little more.

"Can you take those off, please?" I asked.

Edward raised one questioning eyebrow, but didn't say anything. He proceeded to unbuckle his belt and I started to feel elated at the easy win. He threw his belt on the bed, at my feet, and I was ready to enjoy the rest of the show, but he didn't continue. He leaned down and started untying the cords that had kept my legs in place, setting me free.

"Soon," he promised.

Once freed, I tried to stretch my numb legs. For a few moments, I felt nothing. And then, a thousand pins and needles started their torture on me, as blood started flowing properly in my limbs again. I cringed at the painful tingling, praying for it to go away faster.

"On your knees, Isabella," Edward instructed, seemingly unaware of my discomfort.

"I don't think I can right now."

"You can and you will. I will not ask you twice."

Fighting off the stinging, I tried to do it. With my hands still tied up with the tape, the effort was harder, because I had to rely on my legs. And in that exact moment, they weren't exactly eager to cooperate with me. It took me an entire minute to follow what should have been a simple task, during which Edward stood back and watched, his hand gripping the swelling in his jeans in a way that kept distracting me from what I was supposed to do.

In the end, I managed to get into the position he wanted, resting on my elbows and knees. The pins and needles were almost gone, but I could still feel their painful echo. I waited, feeling a little too excited, considering the fact that I was supposed to face the punishment of my little mistake.

"I told you there would be consequences," he sighed, disappearing from my side.

I felt the mattress sinking a little when he joined me back on the bed, placing himself behind me. He grabbed one of my ankles and started wrapping it tightly with what must have been the cord from earlier. He did the same with the other ankle, not saying another word. When he was done, I heard him fumbling for a second - and then I felt something leathery grazing my left buttock.

"What's that?"

"That is my belt," he answered, continuing the gentle grazing. "You will become properly acquainted with it really soon."

Oh. Fuck.

I didn't know if the proper response was to get even wetter at the unspoken threat, but it happened anyway.

"And not only will you get acquainted with it, but you will also come while I hit your perfect ass with it. Understood?"

His voice stirred me further.

"I'm... not sure I can."

"You'll find a way, or else this belt won't stop."

I forgot whatever I wanted to say next, when I felt his hand making its way between my thighs.

"And you will also count each time this belt hits your ass."

"Okay," I half-moaned, as he circled my clitoris.

"Still remember your safeword?"

"Yes."

"Good."

He kept the movement of his fingers steady on my clit, and I almost forgot that this was supposed to be a punishment. I groaned and succumbed to the way he rubbed me, getting lost in the bliss.

Then my bliss exploded.

The first strike of his belt took me by surprise, even though I was expecting it. It hurt more than I would have thought and I couldn't control my loud whimper. My skin started burning immediately after, offended by the sharp blow of the leather.

"Count," he ordered.

"One!"

The second hit came seconds after, the pain masking the pleasure that he caused me with his skilled fingers. I moaned, helpless under this attack.

"Goddamn, count!"

"Two!" I managed under my breath, feeling the delight returning once the stinging the belt had left behind started to subside.

He plunged two fingers inside, going as deep as he could, my liquid arousal flowing out. My knees almost gave up at that point.

"This sweet little cunt of yours is insatiable, isn't it?"

"Y-yes…"

Then, out of nowhere, the third hit came, chasing away my fast-approaching orgasm. This time I remembered to count out loud. It was getting harder and harder to concentrate on what mattered the most: his hand thrusting back and forth inside my body. Each time I thought he had me, the unbearable belt returned, hitting me with such force that my climax retreated instantly.

I went back and forth several times, dying for release, yet finding none. In between two strikes, I gathered the strength to speak.

"I cannot come like this," I wailed.

"Yet you're getting wetter by the minute," he said, a devious smile hidden in his voice, and then hit me again.

"Fuck! Ten!"

"Wrong, this was number nine."

He bent down over my back, to place a soft kiss on my head.

"I need your cock…"

"You haven't come yet," he reminded me.

"I will if you fuck me… please!"

Another hit came, along with my moan.

"Ten!"

"Are you trying to make a deal with me, sweetheart? You want to be fucked while I hit you?"

His fingers pushed in further, while the belt landed on my ass again.

"Eleven! Yes!"

"Hmmm, incredibly tempting."

"Please…"

"I'd rather hear you beg," he decided.

"I'm begging you to fuck me!"

And shockingly, this worked, because he stopped. I looked over my shoulder, only to see him pull the zipper of his jeans down, before getting rid of them altogether, along with his boxers. And finally - finally! - I saw him in all his naked glory. I only had a second of admiring his muscles, because my attention got drawn towards a much more imposing sight: his cock, thick and rippled with veins across its length, standing high and proud. I had guessed before he would be big, but this… He almost looked unreal.

He smiled when he heard me gasp, grabbing the base of his erection in one hand.

"If you don't come this time around, I won't let you come until morning," Edward warned.

There was no chance of that happening anyway, but I agreed.

"God, how I've waited for this," he groaned, grabbing my hips and pulling them back.

I felt his tip grazing along my slit, taunting my clit for a few precious moments. Coated in my juices, Edward moved slightly, until he was right at my entrance. He pushed forward and we both moaned when his tip parted my folds and stretched them, making its way inside.

"You feel absolutely divine," he murmured, diving deeper and deeper inside.

His fingers were nothing in comparison to this. His cock filled me in a way that nothing else could, making me feel perfectly full. My muscles clenched around him out of instinct, to greet his copious girth, and once again, we moaned together. Once he was all the way in, he started thrusting - gentle at first, allowing me to accommodate his size, then faster when my sounds of pleasure grew stronger.

But I knew the endgame, so when one of his hands left my hips, I was prepared for what was coming.

The belt hissed through the air and landed on my ass with a vicious clap. I cried out loud, before counting from where we left off earlier. This time, I didn't feel as if my own orgasm was running away from me. With Edward filling me up to the brim, it was impossible. The pain weaved with the pleasure, until they were one and the same, making me their personal slave.

When the count reached eighteen, I succumbed completely, unable to control myself. He noticed the changes in my body instantly, because he started encouraging me.

"That's it, sweetheart, let go… come for me… you can do it..."

The belt and his thrusts pushed me over the edge and I saw black.

I screamed. I cried out his name. I trembled. I exploded completely, coming all over his cock, convinced that the Earth itself was erupting along with me.

I hadn't realized I had collapsed on my belly and that he exited my body until I felt something thick and wet landing on my lower back and pouring down on my sore buttocks.

"Fuck, Bella, fuck, yes!"

Fighting the haze I was in, I realized he had come as well, all over my back and ass. The liquid was cold, just like the rest of him was, and it felt like a blessing for the burning skin on my ass. I wondered lazily how it tasted.

Through the mental fog, I barely registered the fact that he freed my ankles, turning me on my back, so that we could be face to face. I simply woke up with him on top of me, his perfect face and his fragrance overwhelming me in the best way possible. His eyes seemed darker than before, for some reason, and his lips pursed in a tight line.

"Are you all right?" I queried softly.

I expected his delicious breath to wash over my face, but he seemed to no longer breathe.

"Edward?"

The seconds passed slowly as I tried to understand the reason behind the sudden tension in his body. I felt his erection pressing against my stomach and, although I didn't think it would be possible, I started aching with desire again. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and throaty.

"Close your eyes, Bella."

And I did, right as he leaned down to press his lips on my neck.

I had no idea if it was morning or noon when I finally opened my eyes. With the colourless overcast sky outside, it could be either. I tried stretching a bit, and the achy muscles brought back a deluge of memories from last night. There was no suppressing my smile when thoughts of Edward in the throes of pleasure inundated my mind. I turned around, to see if he had woken up.

But he wasn't there.

Worse, this was not the pale-merigold room I had fallen asleep in.

This was my room.

No, this was impossible. I might have had dreams that felt awfully real in the past, but this was not one of them. No, absolutely not. There was no logical explanation for the low burning of my buttocks, the muscle fever and my red wrists. Or for the fact that I was now dressed in my usual sweatpants and T-shirt.

Half-confused, half-annoyed, I raised up from my bed, ignoring the dizziness that came with it. I was completely alone, no signs of someone ever being in this room. Ignoring the morning fog of my brain, I started pacing back and forth, trying to find a sign that I was not losing my mind.

My books and CDs were still placed in a high stack near my bed. My computer looked untouched. The post-it notes on the wall were unchanged. I rushed to the window, trying to get a glimpse of the house from across the road - and that's when I saw it - a little frail paper, caught in the frame of the window. And on it, the most beautiful handwriting I had ever seen:

"My dearest Isabella,

I knew you would finally look here.

Last night was the best in my entire existence. I am unable to tell you how much that means exactly, so you'll have to take my word for it.

I'm glad you followed me. You're one brave woman. The bravest I know. You were closer to a certain death last night than you will ever know. You still are right now, while I am writing this and you are sleeping.

But if you are reading these words, it means that I was strong enough to leave Port Angeles. It means that the worst is over now and that you are safe and sound, as you should be.

P.S.: I love that I can still taste you on my lips. I hope it never goes away.

Yours,

Edward"

I frowned, bewildered. What was this supposed to mean?

'Certain death'? Yeah, right.

I rolled my eyes, exasperated at the nonsensical explanation. We had fucked until the dawn started creeping in, so what the hell was his note even about? He couldn't have found a better way to let me down easy? I doubted it. I put the note on my desk, not sure if I should be offended or annoyed. For some reason, I felt more of the latter.

Not thinking twice, I got rid of my clothes and started dressing up for the day, also looking for my wallet in the process. I had enough cash to get me through one week of traveling. Maybe two, if I was smart. If I slept in motels and resigned to eating instant meals, I could save up enough. I packed all the necessary things in my biggest backpack and left the house in a hurry, forgetting to leave a post-it for Angela to explain. But I would call her later.

As I closed the door behind me, only one thought kept me going: if Edward thought that I would let him go after I finally got a taste of him, after a month of hopeless pining...

Oh, he was dead-wrong.