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CHAPTER 3

(Bella)

My heart was pounding heavily as Edward pulled out a chair and sat down opposite me, his gaze never breaking from mine. His eyes were a shocking green, bright and nearly electric, so vivid and intense they took my breath away. He had an amused smirk on his face that made the corners of his eyes crinkle slightly, as if he was enjoying a joke I wasn't privy to. I bit my lip, suddenly more than a little nervous, trying to keep my hands from shaking by clenching them into fists in my lap.

Edward stared at me for a few seconds, the contemplative bend to his features making me feel like I was being sized up. His face was serious despite its crooked grin, his posture perfect, giving him an authoritative demeanor I didn't think anyone in the world could ignore. I swallowed thickly, my mouth dry as hot desert sand. I gazed back at him silently, at a complete loss for what to say or do, until his smirk eventually grew into a panty-dropping smile. "It's very nice to meet you, Isabella. I'm Edward Cullen." My Doms had always called me by my full name, but the way it rolled off his tongue like a promise was bewitching, seductive, making my insides tingle in the best way. He'd said no more than a dozen words to me, and I was absolutely dazzled.

"Likewise, Mr. Cullen," I replied. I didn't know how he preferred to be addressed just yet, so I decided to keep it polite and formal for now. I knew some Dominants were adamant that they were never called by their first name, in or out of a scene, even by people who weren't their submissives. Me addressing him with a title and his last name was a sign of respect for his position, even if he wasn't technically my Dom yet. His responding smile assured me of my choice, making me feel a little more at ease.

"Have you ordered already?" he asked, and I shook my head.

"No, I thought it would be best to wait for you to arrive first," I replied, in another show of respectful deference. Edward's grin grew wider yet, his intense gaze clearly appreciative of my manners thus far.

"I was delighted to read the file the agency provided," he continued. "It seems like we are quite compatible, on paper at least." It looked like Mr. Cullen wanted to go straight to business. Hardly any pleasantries before we got right into the reason we were both here. Not that I minded, this was more business with a side of pleasure for me, anyway. I wasn't looking to get to know him or to like him any more than I had to, though he was already making that harder on me than I'd anticipated.

"Tell me, Isabella, how long have you been on the lookout?" he asked, his green eyes blazing with intensity, his deep voice clear and commanding an answer. I swallowed a rush of saliva that flooded my mouth; he intimidated me in the best way.

"Not long, actually. My previous Dom ended things rather quickly, moving away with only a week's notice before our last scene together."

Edward's expression darkened. "That's unfortunate. Not a very honorable way to treat one's submissive in the end, with all they give to us in return."

I swooned slightly in my chair. Having him recognize and show respect to my position was completely unexpected, but so very welcome. It struck me in a place deep down, satisfaction washing through me to know that as much as he would be providing a much-needed escape and release for me, I was doing the same for him in some capacity. Though his own personal reasons for engaging in this lifestyle were still unknown to me, and I wasn't prepared to ask.

"I appreciate you saying so," I replied instead, my voice slightly breathy, making my cheeks grow hot again as it made his effect on me embarrassingly obvious. "It was quite a difficult thing to process, but I've come to terms with it now. I'm more than ready to move on now, hopefully with you . . ."

If I thought my embarrassment was high before, it was nothing compared to the heat that now flooded my face with my forwardness. Edward only grinned at me, though, his eyes smoldering so hotly I thought I might catch fire where I sat.

"How about you, Mr. Cullen?" I asked, attempting to take the attention off myself so I could do my best to recompose my frayed nerves. "Have you been in the market for a new sub very long?"

A barista came to our table before Edward could answer. Most coffee shops didn't employ servers, rather just having you place and retrieve your own order at a front counter, but this little extra bit of service was why I liked Muddy Waters so much. The young man asked for our orders, his gaze lingering on my low neckline as he turned toward me first. Edward balled his fists on the table.

Possessive of something that wasn't even his . . .

Fire crawled through me as Edward turned a hard stare on the server.

"I'll have a double-shot Americano," he said evenly, interrupting the server's inappropriate gaze as he continued to ogle my cleavage. The young man's face whipped in Edward's direction instantly, his already-light skin paling further. Edward sounded stern, important, not someone to cross, or to ignore.

"Uh, right. Yes, okay." The waiter blinked uncomfortably, scribbling something down on the small pad of paper in his hands before looking at me again, this time training his eyes on mine. "And for the lady?"

I stumbled over my words, taken aback by Edward's strong reaction, and by how much I was absolutely loving it. "I'll have a skim-milk latte with two shots of espresso and one pump of vanilla." My coffee order sounded laughably pretentious compared to Edward's, but it was the first thing that came to me, and in my current frazzled state of mind, I just went with it. His smile was crooked when the waiter turned around and left us to ourselves again.

"Vanilla, huh?" he joked, raising a brow, immediately taking the edge off the tense situation from a moment before and making me laugh. I loved that he could be playful, too, seeming to slip from one mood to another with ease. Edward was so different from Alistair, who had been kind when he needed to be, but never so friendly that I had ever laughed in his presence. Edward seemed to have it all: delicious good looks, an amazing body, though there was still more for me to discover there, fierce authority, but also a fun, lighthearted personality when the situation called for it, too. How this would all translate into the playroom was yet to be seen, but so far, he appeared to be everything I ever could have asked for, and more.

"What can I say, Mr. Cullen . . ." I shot him a cheeky smile, testing the waters to see if this playfulness could go both ways. "I like my coffee sweet, and my sex dirty."

His grin turned dark and wicked. "Well, well, Isabella. It appears as if I might have found my match."

My pulse thrummed at his words, a giddy excitement washing through me at the thought of us making magic together in a scene, my imagination shifting into overdrive wondering just what kind of a Dominant he would turn out to be.

"Speaking of," Edward continued, his long fingers curling around the chess piece on the tabletop as he began to fiddle with it absently. "Your list of hard limits included one thing I'd like to discuss with you."

"Oh?" I replied, watching as he passed the small token back and forth from one hand to another. The way his hands moved was mesmerizing, like a fluid dance over anything they touched, leaving me wanting nothing more for him to put them to work against my skin. "Which limit is that?"

I hoped it wouldn't be something too extreme, there was no way I was getting myself into anything that would put me at risk of permanent harm, but he surprised me by picking the most innocuous item on my list.

"Anal," he said, his eyes boring into mine as he awaited my reaction. "Is there any room for movement on that one?"

My cheeks burned. I'd never imagined myself wanting anything to go up there, especially considering I had a perfectly good alternative right beside it. Still, though, with the way this man set my loins ablaze just with a look and a word in my direction, something told me I wouldn't be sorry if I let him push that line a little. "I don't know. Is it important to you?"

"I wouldn't say it's a deal breaker, but I do see it as a staple. A basic that can give you so much pleasure, Isabella, if you'll allow it to. I'd like to play with all your senses, help your pleasure reach its full potential."

Well, damn. When he puts it like that. "Can I have some time to think about it? I'm not saying no, just . . . maybe."

"I can live with maybe. For now," he replied, the sly grin on his face implying that he could already sense I was wavering toward his side. "Is there anything from my list that is a concern for you?"

The waiter returned with our coffees just then, allowing me a moment to consider.

I thought back to his paperwork, to his very short list of hard lines, one thing I remembered standing out to me. "It's not a concern, really, but I am curious. Why don't you kiss?"

"Ah. I'm going to be very upfront with you here, and hope it doesn't put you off, because I have to say I am really liking how this conversation is going so far."

I shivered with delight. I couldn't possibly have agreed more.

"This lifestyle isn't something I'm interested in living daily, nor do I have time for that. I'm a busy man—I work a lot—and I don't have room in my life for any kind of romance or feelings or expectations to build beyond our agreement for a weekly power exchange. Kissing is soft and intimate, and it puts us at risk of all those things developing. I want your body, Isabella, your submission and the pleasure we can bring to each other sexually, but I don't want your heart."

A breath left me in a heavy exhale, thrilled as I was to have found someone who viewed this all exactly as I did. "That's fine. It's perfect, actually. I'm a busy woman myself, and I am definitely not looking for romance or to fall in love again, either."

"Then we have an accord," he said, his mouth twisting slightly with a pop-culture reference that I recognized. He spoke so well, so clear and confident, I wondered just what his education and occupation might be. A teacher? Hot professor? High-powered lawyer? A fellow CEO? Something that saw him well-educated and sophisticated, at the least. With his last remarks still ringing in my ears, though, I wasn't going to pry.

"Our agreement will include exclusivity, though?" I asked instead, wanting to be sure we were as much on the same page as I assumed us to be so far. "I don't want to be one sub among many. I need someone who can be one-hundred percent committed to and focused on my needs, not confuse me with another in the heat of the moment."

"Absolutely," Edward replied. "Once we sign the papers, you're mine, Isabella, for the time we're together and every other minute of the day. I might not own your heart, but I will not have your body or your submission given to another, under any circumstances. I will expect you to wear my collar every day to mark this. Are you prepared for that?"

"Yes," I breathed, my hand coming up to my bare throat, wanting nothing more than to feel the heavy, comforting weight of ownership around my neck again. He could have my body, my obedience, all my pressures and problems at the end of a long week—if he wanted them, they were his.

"Very well, then," Edward said, pausing to take a sip of his Americano. "Is there anything else you wish to discuss before we get into the formalities?"

I bit my lip. "There is one thing," I confessed. One of his brows arched questioningly. "And I hope I'm not overstepping my boundaries by saying this . . ."

"Please, feel free to speak your mind. You don't owe me anything, yet." The smirk was back, and I found I really liked it. It gave him a youthful, playful edge that kept me on my toes. Edward was younger than Alistair, in both age and time spent as a Dom, which on one hand was exciting, but on the other still left me with a slight concern.

"According to your paperwork, you've only been a Dominant for two years, and if I'm being honest, as perfect as everything you've said and done here has been so far, that worries me a little. I'm very particular with what I want, and I need a strong Dom. I can't be someone's learning experience. I need someone who knows what he's doing with my body and my mind, someone confident who won't hesitate or hold back in what he does for me. I want to believe that you can be that for me, but . . . can you?" I clasped my hands together in my lap, watching him carefully for his response.

Edward stared at me for a moment, making my insides flutter with nervous anticipation, before he finally leaned forward, his forearms resting on the table and his black long-sleeved t-shirt riding slightly up his wrists, uncovering a slice of black ink on one side.

"You know why I do this, Isabella? Because I want to. I enjoy it, and to be perfectly frank, I'm damn good at it, too. It's true I've only had one sub in the past two years, but that's because we gave each other exactly what we needed. I knew her likes and limits on paper, but I also saw her response to my actions, and I learned to anticipate what she craved, to recognize when she wanted more. I pushed her to her limits to take her further than she asked for, and she loved it. I'm careful, I never had more than a 'yellow' come out of her mouth, but I'm not one to settle for familiarity and comfort, either. If I think I can get more, I'm going to go after it, for the benefit of us both. Is that strong and confident enough for you?"

Strength of character, check.

Extreme confidence, check.

Undeniable magnetism, double check.

"Yes, of course. I'm sorry if my question offended you, Mr. Cullen. I really didn't mean to disrespect you in any way." I cast my eyes down, my heart thundering in my chest, hoping to god I didn't just drive this absolutely perfect man away with what I was now realizing were completely unfounded concerns.

"Look at me, Isabella," his strong voice commanded from across the table. He was sitting up straight again, his hands against the tabletop, staring at me with powerful green eyes as I lifted my gaze to his. "I told you you could speak your mind. There's no need to apologize, but thank you for the visual, you seem incredibly promising. You're a good girl, aren't you?" His voice dropped even lower, so deep and intense I felt tingles in the pit of my stomach. The effect he had on me already was unbelievable, and he hadn't even laid a finger on me yet.

"I try, Sir," I replied, the title slipping from my mouth before I could stop it, as though it was completely natural for me to call him this. We hadn't even signed anything, or officially agreed to anything at all, and here I was practically bowing down before him. What was wrong with me? Edward's eyes gleamed and smoldered. My obsequence hadn't slipped his attention, either.

"Let us establish a little foundation here first, before I can't control myself anymore, princess."

A sweat broke out all over me, like I was burning up, feverish. I wanted more than anything for him to take me somewhere and lose control. "Yes, of course," I said, sounding breathless, my pulse pounding hard in my ears. "Does this mean you'd like to proceed with a trial scene, then?"

It was customary with the agency for any new D/s partnership to conduct at least one experimental session to be sure all parties were comfortable and willing to proceed with the arrangement before any official paperwork was filed. We would sign a temporary contract for now, and if/when all went well, go on make things permanent.

"I would like that very much," Edward agreed with a dark grin. "I can let the agency know of our intentions tomorrow morning and get the temporary paperwork started. It shouldn't take long for the Ts to be crossed and all, so shall we set our first session for say, this Sunday evening?"

That was only four days from now. Four days and I could be at the mercy of this incredible man; four days until I felt whole again, rather than a mess of scattered pieces. I swallowed, still slightly unarmed by everything that Edward Cullen had turned out to be. I could only hope he truly was as much a force in the playroom as he was sitting here before me, as he had claimed to be.

"Sunday works for me," I said, nodding and taking the final sip of my cooling latte.

"Very good. I look forward to it. If you'll just give me your number, I'll text you the details."

I relayed my information to him and he typed it into his phone, his long fingers curled around the device while his thumbs moved deftly over the screen. I only hoped I had a packed schedule for the remainder of the week, because even just sitting here in front of him, doing nothing but watching his hands move, had my hormones in overdrive. I couldn't wait to hand him all control over me. Sunday couldn't come fast enough.