Summary: When she moves into a high-rise apartment block in the city, a kindergarten teacher finds a new kink: touching herself in front of the window. Imagining that someone is watching her is part of the thrill. But what happens when fantasy becomes reality?
A/N: This story was entered into the Bodice Rippers and came second in public vote, was one of the judge's picks and won the sexiest guy, and spiciest scene award ❤️ So grateful for everyone who voted and the response to this story from the contest.
Could not have done this without Midnight Cougar who was my beta, sounding board and hype woman ❤️ Or my wonderful pre readers, littleashes13, Dawnbreaker (who entered too! Go check out her entry) and LozzofLondon. So much love for them.
Sinful Reflections
Prologue
Sweat drips down my chest, a dewy bead, warm and wet, gliding down my damp skin, making a slick trail through the valley of my breasts. I'm panting, heavy breaths leaving my mouth in short little gasps, echoing into the silence of my apartment.
If I crane my ears, I'll hear the sounds of the road, all those stories below, but my attention is fixed right now, the sensations running through my body too strong, too intense. Every single part of me is narrowed to him, to the way his muscles cord and bunch, the tightness in his neck and jaw, the movement of his wrist.
My legs are spread wide, an ache forming at the sides of my hips from the effort of holding them open. I'm tense, tight and trembling, my chest heaving as I draw in heavy breaths. Ecstasy floods my veins, a rich, heady current that pulses and rises, like waves in the sea.
My belly tightens, coiling, twisting, burning, that wave pulling back, climbing higher and higher until it's a towering, writhing wall of water.
My thighs are soaked from the spray, the core of me slick and slippery.
I drive deeper, harder, scorching heat swallowing my fingers as I fuck myself with them, wet and wanting. My body is a tightly coiled spring, wound and wound, desperate to leap, desperate for that wave to break.
Each stroke of my fingers sends tension climbing through every tensed muscle, pushing me closer and closer.
My eyes are trained on him, watching, just as he's watching me. My gaze drifts from his tight jaw to the way he has his fist wrapped around his thick cock, pumping roughly, fucking his fist just as hard as I'm fucking my pussy.
This is our routine, our ritual.
Just him and me—just ours, but if someone else is watching us, that only makes it better.
We're separated by thick glass,
by several meters of air,
by our buildings.
I don't know his name; I don't know his job.
I don't even know the color of his eyes.
His body tenses, a palm slamming into the glass by his head as his mouth falls open.
He's going to come.
The wave is cresting higher, waiting for him, waiting for us to flood together.
The tide comes in and I cry out, my back arching off the chair as I watch his cum coat shiny glass.
Twice a week, in the early hours of the morning, when the sun is starting to kiss the farthest edges of the pavement and the sky is a dark gray, I sit in front of my floor-to-ceiling window, on the thirty-third floor, and touch myself in front of the man in the apartment opposite.
He watches me. But I watch him right back.
xXx
My arms burn as I round the corner from the elevator, gripping the heavy box tightly. It's cutting into my forearms, and the strain of carrying it is killing me. I push it against the wall and hold it in place with my knee, fishing out the keys from my pocket and unlocking the door. I'm breathing heavily—sweat dripping down my face and neck, and all I want to do is get inside and open a fucking beer.
The door clicks open and I push through, forcing myself to lower down the box gently, even though I just want to drop it. The relief to my arms is immediate, and I groan, shutting the door behind me and collapsing onto the couch.
As if on cue, my phone starts ringing and I pick it up, rolling my eyes when I see the name on the screen.
"Hi, Ally," I answer, a slight bite to my voice.
"I'm so sorry, B," she says right off. "I'm at the airport. I have to fly out to Paris for the week; they only just told me. Are you okay? Should I send Jasper?"
"I did it all," I say bitterly. I'm not actually mad at her; I was just kind of looking forward to having someone help me unpack and eat a pizza with me.
"I'm really sorry," she says in a soft voice. "I was stuck in meetings all fucking day, and I told my stupid assistant to call you, but she forgot. I should have told you I couldn't make it."
"It's fine. I just wish Emmett and Rose lived closer and someone could have helped me." I sigh. They're over two hours away, and with Rose's intense job and Emmett's construction business, they barely ever make it into the city.
"I'll make it up to you," Alice insists.
"You'd better!"
She laughs. "How is it looking, anyway?"
I snort. "It's a fucking mess. I'm just going to unpack the stuff for the bedroom and bathroom tonight. I can do the rest tomorrow."
"I'm so jealous you're on holiday again," Alice whines.
It's spring break, so my little ones are all at home with their families, instead. I've been off for three days and I'm already missing them.
"Well, Ally, you could quit your high-powered job and become a kindergarten teacher too," I quip, chuckling.
I love my job, and I wouldn't change it for the world, but my meagre salary barely covers the rent for this apartment, and Alice gets to fly all over the world in first class, with all her credit cards, shiny and black.
Alice laughs. "Work half the hours, have less stress, and actually have time for a life? Stop tempting me, B."
I hum. "Is Jasper still...struggling with it?" Alice's week is rarely less than eighty hours, and now that Jasper's on off-season from soccer, he's bored and missing her.
Alice is silent for a second. "He's... We'll be fine. I'm taking that whole week off for Rose and Emmett's wedding so we can have some time together."
"That's something to look forward to, then," I say, biting my lip.
The wedding is three months away. Is Alice really not taking any time off before then?
"I'm going to go and order a pizza. Have fun in Paris, ma chérie," I singsong.
"I'll try," Alice groans. "Au revoir, belle."
xXx
I place my hands on my hips, studying the room with a smile. It's taken me two weeks to get everything right, but I'm finally happy.
The sun is spilling into the room from the large floor-to-ceiling windows that line the far wall, coating the green couch, honey-colored flooring, and circular dining table in tones of orange and yellow, light glinting off the TV into my eyes.
The apartment came furnished, but I've added little pieces of me everywhere. The potted plant in the corner by the TV stand, the little silver plate on the coffee table with a vase of peonies inside, several fluffy black cushions, and a big quilted throw, slung over the back of the couch.
The kettle finishes boiling, letting out a bubbly hiss, and I walk a few feet into the kitchen, pouring hot water into my prepared coffee cup, the bitter smell wafting up and flooding my nose. I clasp the warm cup in both hands, bare feet padding across the sun-warmed flooring, to stand and look out the window.
These apartment blocks are like Legos, stacked discordantly on top of each other, in and out, unmatched rectangles like a half-played game of Jenga. I step closer to the glass, heat flooding my face and making me squint. The road below is far away, and up here, on the thirty-third floor, I feel a weird sense of safety. I'm alone, but surrounded by people, above me, across from me.
I study the apartment block opposite. It's built exactly like this one, rectangles jutting out and crossing together. Though I can sort of see into a few of the apartments, the only one I can properly look into is directly opposite from mine, and other than once—when I looked and saw a cream couch and wooden dining set—the curtains are always drawn, hiding it from the outside world.
My eyes drift up and down the building: plant pots, flat screens, cats perched by the window, basking in the sun. Tiny little glimpses into people's lives. I love people watching, and this should be the perfect spot, but only if people are close enough to the window for me to see in.
I swallow as I wonder how much of my apartment is visible to others. Can they make out my face when I'm standing here like this, inches away from the glass? How many steps back do I have to be, before I disappear from their view?
My eyes fix on a woman in a pantsuit, several floors above in the building opposite. I can't make out much of her, other than she looks trim, and her hair is long and blonde, pin-straight down the navy of her blazer.
I sip my drink, wondering what she does, why she's there, when large arms circle the woman's body. My eyes widen as dark hair appears by hers, those hands sliding up her torso and cupping her breasts. The man isn't dressed; I can see a sliver of his chest behind her, bare legs bigger than hers, one in between the material of her trousers.
Heat spits down my spine, something curling in my belly as I watch her lean back into him, arms reaching up, pulling his mouth to hers. Can she feel his cock, pressing into her ass? Is he whispering dirty things in her ear, asking her if she likes his hands on her, asking her if her pussy is wet?
I swallow thickly, my mouth going dry, and almost groan out loud when the couple disappears. My thighs press together, something low in my belly coiling. That was fucking hot. My hands grip the coffee cup tightly.
Is someone watching me right now? Would they be turned on if they saw a man behind me, grabbing me, pulling me against his stiff cock? Maybe he'd unbutton my dress and they'd see my breasts, my hard nipples. Maybe it would make them so hot they'd touch themselves.
I let go of the coffee cup with one hand and let it slide across my belly. If I touched myself here, how many people would see me? I take a step backward, then another. If I did it standing right here, would they see me? Am I out of sight or not?
I'm breathing heavily, my pussy throbbing. I've never been as worked up as this before, my panties damp at the mere thought of someone staring at me while I touch myself—watching me just as I was watching that couple earlier.
My hand drifts lower, but then I force myself to stop, walking over to the couch and sitting down, heart racing, pulse pounding between my legs. I can't. I can't do that. It would be wrong.
I toss and turn in the bed as fantasies consume me. I can't stop thinking about that couple in the window, imagining how it would have looked if they'd stayed there, if he'd pushed her against the glass and fucked her, her mouth open, hot breath painting the window opaque. I feel a jolt in my belly as my fantasies turn to touching myself in front of the window, being the show instead of the voyeur.
I want it so fucking badly, even if it's wrong, even though I know I shouldn't. Something tingles in my belly, sweat coating my skin, every inch of me hard-wired and turned on. I press my thighs together, fingers teasing the bare skin of my stomach, a soft moan leaving my lips as that tingling sensation grows stronger.
I want it.
I drag myself out of bed and into the main room, breathing hard. There's a tiny lamp in the kitchen and I turn it on, staring out at the windows. It's late, past three a.m., and there are no lights on in any of the windows I can see into. I slip off my shirt and my panties, and stand there naked for a while, my lower stomach tightening and an ache forming between my legs.
Can someone see me?
I pull out a dining chair and drag it to the window, taking a seat and opening my legs, exposing myself. The wood is cool against my feverish skin, the feel of the leather cushion on my wet pussy sending a jolt through me. Sitting here spread open like this is so fucking hot it's making me feel dizzy, my vision blurring. My heavy pants fill the room, and I blink a few times, staring out of the window, searching the darkness to check there are no lights on.
There's nothing, just empty black, the hum of the city below. That feeling spreads in my belly again, that twist and ache that fills you when you know you're doing something you shouldn't.
When you're being naughty.
I suck my warm fingers into my mouth, coating them in spit as I spread my legs wide. I'm so turned on, I can barely breathe. The room is flooded with soft yellow light and thick shadows. They loom high up on the walls, and I glance left and see myself painted in black, the points of my hard nipples, the arch of my back.
Is someone watching me in one of those dark rooms? Do they like what they see? Is it a man or a woman? If it's a man, is his cock starting to thicken and harden, bulging against cotton? Will he pull it out of his pants, feel that smooth, hard skin in his palm, grip it in his large fist and pump it while he stares? Or maybe it's a woman and she's pressing her legs together as her arousal drips into her panties, her nipples getting just as hard as mine as she watches me. Both turn me on, but it's the thought of the man that drives me crazy, that makes my pussy throb.
There's something so delicious about being wanted, the thought of someone being so turned on by me they have to stroke their cock in the dark.
I can feel how wet my pussy is, dripping down from my slit, coating the dining chair underneath me. I arch my back, my other hand languidly stroking up my bare stomach, drifting higher until the soft weight of my breast is resting on it. I greedily suck my fingers, closing my eyes as I imagine sucking hot, smooth skin, a thick cock stretching my mouth wide, hands gripping my hair as he fucks my mouth, saliva dripping down my chin.
I open my eyes, staring into the night as I pinch my nipple, a hot spark of pleasure jolting through me. I'm so worked up, my lower stomach tight and a pulsing between my legs. I take my fingers out of my mouth and lower them to my aching pussy, rubbing them over my clit, teasing myself before I move them south, running them through my arousal. It clings to my fingers, and the warmth from me makes me shiver. Slowly, I slide them inside, my head tilting back, groaning as I force my thighs wider, my pussy sucking my fingers inside, hot and tight.
This is dirty. Sinful. And it feels so good.
Is someone watching me right now? Are they stroking their cock as they watch me plunge my fingers into my sopping wet pussy? I wonder if they can see the way it's glistening, the color of my nipples and my mouth. My walls clench around my fingers and I pull them out, sliding them up my warm, slick skin and rubbing them over my clit, coating it until it's soaking, until my fingers are gliding over it, and I can imagine it's someone's hot mouth licking at me.
I'm close already, strangled pants leaving my mouth, every muscle straining, legs shaking, my fingers moving in quick circles as my hips rock forward and backward, riding an imaginary cock.
Out there in the dark, is someone close too? Are they groaning low, imagining fucking me, imagining burying their tongue in my pussy?
Watch me come, I say in my head, the words sending a thrill through me. Watch me fucking come.
All my muscles are tensed, coiled, my head tilted back, mouth open wide as I rub my clit faster and faster.
Will they come when they see me? Have they come already? Painted their hand white as a shuddering groan leaves their mouth.
I can feel it building, higher and higher; I'm rigid, right on the edge, balancing precariously, teetering, exquisite pleasure flooding me with every stroke. But it's about to get better, because...
I'm…
So…
Close...
My vision goes white, my back arching off the chair, ecstasy searing through me, releasing every muscle, a long, drawn out whimper escaping my mouth as I shudder, and clench, and throb.
I moan in rapture.
So fucking good.
I pant, breathing heavily, basking in my orgasm, but then, shame creeps in, like tendrils crawling up my limps, gripping me tight. Did I really just fucking do that?
I jump up off the chair and rush to the bathroom, turning on the shower. I glimpse my face in the mirror, my heavy-lidded eyes, flushed cheeks. I've never come so hard in my life, and I've had good sex, the kind of sex you want to have again and again.
This was different. This felt naughty. I needed this, more than I ever realized. Is there something wrong with me? Why do I like the thought of someone watching me so much?
Even just the thought of it causes a shiver to rush down my spine, my mouth falling open.
I want to do it again.
xXx
I throw my vibrator down angrily, grabbing a pillow and screaming into it in frustration. I can't fucking come—not since that night a few weeks ago when I touched myself by the window. I've tried, and even though the buzzing against my clit works me up, I keep losing the feeling.
I close my eyes and imagine I'm sitting in front of that window again. My body heats up instantly, a shiver running through me. I whimper, gripping my breasts, and reach for the vibrator again.
Come on.
I sit up slightly, leaning against the pillows.
I'm there, staring out at the windows into the dark night. Someone's watching, stroking themselves, mouth open in pleasure as they stare at me.
The pleasure starts to build as I press the vibrating wand against my clit, my pussy throbbing. Something's missing, that extra layer, that feeling in my belly.
Come on...
I lose it again and let out a growl of frustration, turning off the vibrator and staring up at the ceiling. I think about doing it, and just considering it sends a pulsing warmth to the pit of my stomach.
I've tried so hard not to, but I want it. I want to do it again.
I run a hand down my face, sighing. Shame mixes with my desire until it's its own entity, pulsing and radioactive, throbbing between my legs.
I snap my teeth shut, determination filling me. Fuck it. I'm doing it.
I need this. I get out of bed.
The chair drags against the wooden floor with a low grating purr, and I sit with a breathy sigh, the seat cool against my heated skin. I watch my shadow as I arch my back, cupping my heavy breasts in my palms, feeling my nipples press into the center. The contact sends a shiver through me, and I pinch them, moaning softly.
The sensation of the leather against my aching pussy electrifies me, and I rub myself against it a little, desperate for friction. I wish I had a toy I could place on the seat, something I could ride, something I could fuck.
I stare into the darkness, licking my lips, that delicious feeling spreading through me. I moan, tilting my head back.
Yes. This is what I fucking need.
I plunge my fingers into my hot, wet pussy and clench down immediately, my eyes rolling back as pleasure bursts in my abdomen. My legs spread wide, and I press my toes into the cool wooden floor, my calves tensing.
Is someone watching me now? Watching me fuck my pussy, spread open and on display, giving them a special little show.
The thought makes me groan, and I feel the tingles of my climax beginning in the pit of my stomach. I turn on the vibrator with a hum and drag it across my nipples, hips rocking against my fingers as the wooden back of the chair digs into my spine. I'm so wet, the sounds of my fingers pumping between my legs, sloppy and obscene.
I take the vibrator lower, and as it comes into contact with my swollen clit, my eyes flutter closed and my head tilts so far back my neck stretches.
"Oh fuck," I moan, feeling myself clench down tight on my fingers.
The dual sensation of plunging my fingers in my pussy and the vibrations to my clit is swiftly taking me to the edge—the thought of someone watching me right now heightening everything until all I can feel is a hot, pulsing, burning pleasure, filling my veins and my tight body.
I'm panting, chest heaving, so close I can almost taste it on my tongue.
I hang on the knife's edge for what feels like an eternity, and then I'm coming... I'm coming so hard I almost yell, my pussy gripping my fingers like a vice, head snapping side to side, body arching into a C.
I turn off the vibrator, letting it slip from my sweaty palm and drop to the floor, my head still hanging backward.
"Fuck!" I sigh happily, opening my eyes and blinking blearily at the ceiling. My fingers leave my pussy and I sit up, glancing down at the purple vibrator on the floor with a slight laugh. I lift my fingers to my mouth and run my tongue up them, tasting myself as I glance up.
I freeze, my breath halting, my heart lurching into my throat.
There's a light on in the opposite apartment, and standing at the window, hands on the glass, is a man.
And he's looking right at me.
It takes me hours to fall asleep, and when I wake up in the morning, the panic crashes through me all over again.
Holy shit. Holy shit. My mind is sharpened and tense all of a sudden, those same words crashing through it like thunder. Someone saw me. Someone saw me.
He must think I'm insane, depraved, dirty.
"Oh god," I groan, rubbing my face. I can't believe someone was actually watching me. The reality is confronting, too tangible and alive to stop me from freaking out.
I wanted someone to watch—but did I? Or was it just the fantasy that they could be that turned me on?
The traitorous throbbing between my legs gives me my answer, and I force myself out of bed, throwing myself into a cold shower.
Once I'm dressed, I stand in my room, my hands wringing together. It's eight a.m. and I have to leave in twenty minutes, but I'm scared to go out there.
What if he's there again? I don't want to make eye contact accidentally, or see him. I'm so embarrassed. My cheeks burn and I take a deep breath.
Come on, Bella, don't be such a fucking baby.
I take a step out of my bedroom and give in to my fear, instantly dropping to the floor, commando crawling to my couch. I feel like a fucking lunatic, but the thought of him being there is making me panic.
A sigh of relief leaves my mouth when I make it behind the couch, lifting myself up to my knees and carefully peeking above it, out the window. I let out a squeak, ducking lower, my heart hammering against my ribs. The curtains are open opposite and the man is standing there again, staring into my apartment.
Slowly and cautiously, I lift my head up again. I don't think he can see me, so I take a second to look at him closely. My mouth goes dry as my eyes trail down his body. He's in a blue suit; it's clinging to him like second skin, like it's tailor made. It looks expensive.
He looks expensive.
Even from this distance, I can see the sharpness of his jaw and his high cheekbones. His lips look full and pouty, and his hair is the most unique shade I've ever seen, the color of burnished bronze and honey, shiny in the morning sun. The light paints his face, and even though I can't see the color of his eyes, I can make out the slight pink coating his cheeks, the stubble on his jaw.
How have I never noticed him before? He's beautiful.
I let out another sigh of relief as he glances down at his wrist, then turns around, strolling out of view. Even though I think he's gone, I stay crouching for several more minutes, just in case.
Once I'm sure I'm safe, I stand, wringing my hands together. He saw me. Naked. How long was he watching? Did he see me come?
That traitorous feeling knits itself through my torso and I shiver. Did he like it?
xXx
On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays at around 6:30 a.m., my neighbor leaves the apartment in red shorts and a gray T-shirt, and returns forty minutes later, drenched in sweat. He has five different suits, all various shades of dark blue, and his favorite mug is tall and black. I've learned all this about him from sneaking looks when he's in view, acting as though I'm watering my plants or folding clothes.
Sometimes he catches me looking, and he waves, or smirks, running a hand through his honey-colored hair. I almost had a heart attack yesterday when he strolled up to the window in nothing but a tight pair of black boxers. I'd wanted to look so badly, but I didn't want him to see me looking, and by the time I'd acted out walking into my room, then crawled back behind my couch to stare at him, he'd disappeared.
Right now, I'm on my couch, pretending to read, but I keep glancing up and watching him. He's pacing; a blazer discarded on his couch, tie loose around his neck.
He strolls toward the window, his hands moving, and I can see his mouth opening and closing, his jaw tight. My fingers twitch over my book, and I peer into his apartment curiously, wondering if someone's in there with him. The main light is off; the room lit with a soft glow, making his angular jaw look even more defined. He places his hands on the glass and stares right at me, looking annoyed.
I shift, trying to see past him, and his face instantly breaks out in a smirk. He reaches next to him and holds up the slim black shape of his phone, arching an eyebrow.
He rolls his eyes playfully, then scowls, chucking the phone behind him as his mouth moves, both hands coming to rest on the window again. I can feel his gaze, something burning in the pit of my stomach. This is normally the part where I run off, but something's holding me still today. There's something so captivating about him: his confidence, the way he stands, the shape of his mouth.
He doesn't seem to be talking anymore, but he doesn't move, eyes fixed on me. I can't look away, something hot burning in the pit of my stomach, a tingle skating down my spine, raising goosebumps in its wake.
We stare at each other for a while, then he takes his hands from the glass, pulling his tie loose and throwing it behind him.
I bite my lip, and he tilts his head at me, his lips curving up into a sinful smile as he starts unbuttoning his shirt. My face heats up when he reveals his torso to me.
He's all lean muscle and smooth skin, a smattering of fair hair across his defined chest, deep ridges lining his stomach, leading down to a pronounced V. I feel sweat coat my palms, the small of my back. I probably should turn away, but he's looking right at me—does he want me to look back? My lower stomach tightens.
His large hands discard the shirt, and I shiver, feeling a throb between my legs at the sight of his strong arms, rounded with muscle, bare except for a tiny silver bracelet around his left wrist. I devour him with my eyes, tracing every line, imagining how his skin would feel under my tongue.
When my eyes finally meet his again, he's grinning, and my breath catches in my throat as he moves his hands to his belt, unbuckling it.
What is he doing?
He rips the belt from his jeans and I shudder, imagining the noise it would make, that whip of leather. Buttons open, and I greedily take in the black waistband of his boxers. He stops, his hands pausing.
I look up at him curiously, and he makes a gesture with his hands—after you.
A squeak leaves my mouth. He wants me to strip?
I wonder if my terror is apparent on my face because he arches an eyebrow, then places his hand on his crotch, licking his lips.
"Fuck," I mutter.
He tilts his head and sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, looking so unbelievably attractive that my lower belly flips.
Before I know what I'm doing, I've moved my hands to my T-shirt, my eyes scanning the other apartments. It's late, past ten, but not late enough for everyone to be asleep. Someone could see if they looked hard enough, even with my room painted in shadow from my kitchen lamp.
My blood burns at the thought of someone seeing me, my breath leaving my mouth in pants. He places one hand on the glass again, the muscles jumping in his shoulder. A strangled moan leaves my mouth as he pulls down his zipper, the material slipping down his hips slightly.
His hand leaves his crotch, and I feel my knees go weak as I catch sight of the prominent bulge in his black boxers, peeking over the blue material of his slacks.
Holy fuck, he's hard.
My pussy throbs and I give in, pulling the T-shirt up, revealing my bare breasts. He disappears from view as I take it over my head, and when I catch sight of him again, I whimper.
His mouth is parted, his eyes on my chest as his hand rubs between his legs.
This is so fucking naughty.
My head is spinning, my muscles tense, skin tingling. I want to see the rest of him. I want to see his cock. My breasts feel heavy, my nipples hard enough to cut glass.
He pulls his pants down and my eyes go straight to his black boxers, my hands automatically cupping my breasts at the sight of that prominent, thick bulge in the fabric. He grips it in one hand, and I whimper again, rubbing my thighs together.
I slip out of my pajama pants, leaving me naked except for a tiny red thong. I glance at him shyly, my heart beating so fast in my chest it feels like it's about to explode. That twisty, addictive, churning feeling in my belly is making me ache.
His jaw is tight, his full bottom lip caught between his teeth. He lifts a finger and makes a circle in the air—turn around.
I tilt my head at him, then twist, glancing back over my shoulder at him to see his reaction. His mouth falls open and he arches his head back, before his teeth snap together.
I spin around again and he grits his teeth, his hands going to his boxers. My whole body tenses in anticipation as he tugs them down.
Inch by inch, he reveals his gorgeous cock to me, and I forget to breathe for a second when he kicks out of them, watching his big dick bob.
"Oh, fuck," I whimper when his large hand wraps around it. His cock is beautiful, thick and long, the head reaching up to his belly button.
My eyes flick up to his face, and he places one hand on the glass as he stares at me, his hand slowly pumping over his hard length.
I slip a hand into my underwear and his hand starts moving faster, his head tilting back. I brush my swollen clit, then dip lower, feeling my arousal soak my fingers.
I've never been this wet in my life. I want to come, want to watch him come.
I pull up a chair and straddle it, watching as his eyes fix between my legs and his mouth opens wide, eyes rolling back.
My fingers plunge into my dripping pussy and I cry out, gripping my full breast in my other hand, tugging on my nipple, jolts of pleasure going straight between my legs. I'm already close.
My eyes fix on the way he's working his cock, his pace faster now. His muscles are tight, jumping in his forearm, his body bending forward slightly, glass fogging by his mouth.
I add another finger, my thighs aching at the strain from pulling them wide open, my other hand strumming over my clit, ecstasy flooding every single part of me. It feels so fucking good, the drag of my fingers, the wet glide of them over my swollen clit.
I'm going to come, I want to tell him. I'm going to come so hard for you.
He's watching me, his eyes fixed between my legs, both of us staring at each other as we fuck ourselves.
His fist suddenly slows down, and I gasp in shock as I watch thick ropes of his cum coat the window.
The sight is so hot I clench down on my fingers, all the pleasure going through me cresting intensely as I come hard. I'm shaking so violently, I almost topple off the chair.
I manage to lift my head up, breathing heavily. He's rubbing his boxers over the stain coating the window, his cheeks flushed, a smirk playing at his lips. My fingers leave my body, and I watch his mouth fall open as I suck them into my mouth.
His head shakes, his jaw jumping.
I stand and get dressed, my heart pounding in my chest. Holy shit, I can't believe I just did that.
When I'm done, I look over and find him in his black boxers, his hair hanging across his forehead in damp strands.
He pats the glass and I watch him tilt his head back laughing before his head snaps to his side sharply. I swallow, wondering what's wrong, but he moves out of sight. After a second, he moves back in front of the window, holding up the phone to me with an eye roll, his mouth moving.
I turn away and walk into the kitchen, my hands shaking.
Holy shit.
That was the most insane thing I've ever done.
When can we do it again?
xXx
I drag myself out of bed and into the shower, feeling a tingle go down my spine as I rub my soapy hands over my full breasts and the flat of my stomach. I want to touch myself, but it's Wednesday tomorrow, so I want to save all my sexual energy for him.
We have a routine, twice a week. Wednesday and Saturday. It happened by accident after the first time, both of us awake late on a Saturday night, his hands running across his body as he stood in the window, staring at me. The next Saturday we were both there again, and Wednesdays came to pass the same way.
Sometimes, we catch each other at different times, and do it randomly, but that's rare. He's barely home during the day, and mostly, we just exchange waves or drink coffee in the window if we catch a glimpse during the week.
It doesn't mean I don't watch him, that I don't sit on my couch and stare at him whenever he's in view.
When I'm dressed, I peek from behind the wall into his apartment. He's there, in the window, fitted navy suit, black mug clasped in his large hands. He's freshly shaven, the early morning sun washing him in orange and yellow.
I move into view and watch his lips curve up when he notices me. My hand lifts in a wave and he smirks, holding up one finger, the universal sign for wait a second.
He disappears for a moment, and when he comes back, he's clutching something rectangular in his hands, around the size of a large piece of paper. He spins it around, and I widen my eyes in surprise.
It's a whiteboard.
In block, blue letters, right in the center is one word.
Hi.
He gestures to the board, grinning, and I laugh, rolling my eyes. I pull one strap of my dress down to tease him, and he bites his lip, turning the whiteboard back around, scribbling on it.
Can we do tonight? 2am?
My heart thumps in my chest, my lower belly coiling tight. I nod at him and hold up both of my thumbs, unsure what else to do. I watch his face break out into a grin and he throws back his head laughing. A strange urge rushes through me to hear it. To know what he sounds like when he laughs like that. To know what he sounds like at all. He drops the whiteboard down and winks at me before walking out of view.
I fix my strap, then lie on the couch, opening up Amazon.
A few days later, when I show up at the window, at our arranged time—6:00 p.m.—I'm clutching my very own whiteboard.
He's still for a second, then I watch his shoulders shake, his mouth opening in laughter.
I scribble, Hi, and hold it up, grinning back.
He moves out of view for a moment, then he's back, holding his whiteboard in front of him as he scribbles.
Hi, come here often?
I snort.
I like the view.
I see his lips curve up into a smirk
So do I. Will you tell me your name?
I bite my lip before I scribble it out.
Bella. What's yours?
He holds up the board, smirking at me.Edward.
Well, it's nice to meet you, Edward.
It's nice to meet you, beautiful Bella.
I grin, feeling my cheeks flush. I go to write something else, but he's already there, his muscles jumping in his arms as he rubs something out and scribbles down something new.
My body jolts as he holds it up again, heat flaring between my legs.
I want you.
It's so simple. Just a few words. But hearing them from him is different. Sexier.
I gulp and respond. I want you too.
He smirks as he writes. Correction. I want to fuck you.
A small whimper leaves my lips as he cups his cock in his boxers, staring at me.
I hesitate once I've written the words down, but then hold up the board, biting my lip.
I want to taste you.
I watch his body tense. His jaw tight. Where?
Your mouth. Your body. Your cock.I flush as I write the words, but when I hold them up, his reaction makes me squirm, his hand slipping inside his boxers. I can see how fucking hard he is, thick and long, pressing against that gray material.
He bites his lip and removes his hand, pen moving over the whiteboard again.
Well, I want to taste your pretty little pussy.
I pull up a chair and sit down, breathing heavily. I want him. Not just like this, not just watching.
I want to touch, to taste, to lick and suck. I want to feel his considerable length parting me, filling me. I want to ride his big cock, feel his mouth all over my breasts. I want his cum coating my body, dripping out of my pussy. I want to lick it off his abs.
He holds up the whiteboard again. What's your apartment number?
I widen my eyes. Holy shit.
There's a sudden pounding at my door and I groan.
"Hang on," I call out.
I pick up the pen to respond when the pounding intensifies.
"NYPD, open up!"
I jump up in panic, throwing the whiteboard down and hurrying to the door. Thank fuck we hadn't escalated anything and I still have my clothes on.
The second it's open, I'm being ushered outside.
"Woah, what the fuck are you doing?" I shout at the dark-haired policeman. He's in his NYPD uniform, his brown eyes kind but stern.
"Ma'am, I'm Officer Keeling with the NYPD. You have to leave. Immediately. You don't have permission to be in this property, and I have a court order to have you forcibly removed if you do not comply."
My mouth falls open in shock. "What? You can't just make me leave!"
I'm handed a piece of paper. "Yes, we can, ma'am. You can gather your essentials, but you need to be out of this apartment in the next five minutes. Arrangements will be made for all your things to be delivered to you wherever you'll be."
"Fuck!" I groan, reading the piece of paper quickly. It says the apartment is being sold and the eviction notice was issued over twelve weeks ago. Before I even moved in! What the fuck am I going to do? That fucking landlord! Tears spring behind my eyes and I force myself to take a breath.
Everything is going to be okay. I can probably stay with my colleague Angela temporarily; Alice and Jasper live too far out of the city for me to get to school easily. "Aren't you supposed to give me notice?" I ask, my voice thick.
"Well, we warned the tenant we believed was in the apartment," the officer says, giving me a sympathetic look. "I can see that's not you. Obviously, the tenant was subletting. You can take him to court, but unfortunately, there's nothing to be done right now; you have to leave. Five minutes, ma'am."
I go inside and head to the window, but Edward's not there.
"Dammit!" I hiss angrily. Quickly, I gather my toothbrush and some clothes, then walk up to the window again.
"Come on, where are you?" I mutter.
"We need to go, ma'am," Officer Keeling says kindly but impatiently.
I'm ushered out the door, just as I see a flash of bronze in the apartment opposite.
Shit. I've lost him.
xXx
"Code red, Bridezilla's approaching." Jasper coughs, retreating backward to the large leather couch.
I snort on my drink. Rose has been driving us crazy the past three months.
Alice gives Jasper an exasperated look, then smiles at Rose. "Rosie, how's it all—"
"It's a fucking nightmare!" Rose wails. Her hair is in curlers, her silk dressing gown revealing her golden tan.
"Why? How can I help?" Alice snaps into organization mode, talking so fast I can barely understand her. It's so not my area of expertise, so I pat Rose on the back and slink back to Jasper, collapsing onto the chair next to him.
He chuckles in my ear.
"—and Peter just told me Paddy isn't even here yet, and he's supposed to have the rings," Rose complains.
"Who's she going on about?" I ask Jasper, elbowing his stomach lightly.
He laughs. "Come on, B, you've heard the stories about Paddy from college."
"Oh, Paddy, yeah!" I nod. "But I thought he was in Ireland?"
"He moved here a few months ago," Jasper explains. "I keep trying to arrange drinks with everyone, but Alice can never make it." His voice is a little bitter, and I turn to look at him, frowning.
"Jas…"
"It's fine." He plasters on a fake smile. "Her career is important to her."
I start to speak, but he stands, winking at me. "Right, I need to get back to Em. Six hours away, Rosie baby. You excited?" he asks, kissing her head.
"I am, but..." Rose sniffles. "I'm so stressed it's all going to go wrong. I wish Mom was here."
"She is," Jasper soothes. "She'd never miss your special day, Rosie. I know she's gonna be watching from above and probably bitching about everyone's outfits."
Rose gives him a watery smile and a light laugh.
"Okay, I'll see you in there," Jasper murmurs to Alice, leaning down to kiss her cheek chastely. Alice smiles at him, but it doesn't reach her eyes. I really hope they're going to be okay.
Jasper leaves and Rosie perks up as the rest of the bridesmaids arrive, her makeup artist Irina wheeling in the largest trolley of makeup I've ever seen.
"Let's get this party started!" Jess crows, popping a bottle of champagne.
"Baby, you look absolutely beautiful," Mr. Hale says proudly, his eyes watering.
I smile as he hugs Rose.
"You really do," Jasper agrees, squeezing her shoulder.
"I'm ready," Rose says suddenly, her face lighting up. "I'm so ready. I want to marry him right now."
We all laugh, and Alice grins. "I can't believe we're actually on time. Let's have another glass. Jas, you need to go back to the boys now and make sure Emmett is ready."
"Yes, ma'am!" Jasper salutes playfully. "Oh, actually, B, come with me a sec. You can meet Paddy!"
"Oh shit, I always forget that B didn't know us in college." Rose laughs, then gives me a smirk. "You'll like him, Bella. Paddy is hot as hell."
"He really, really is," Jacey, Rose's roommate from college, swoons.
"That accent…" Lauren simpers.
Jess stares down at her nails. "He's all right."
Rose snorts. "Still bitter about that, are you?" She winks at me. "He turned down Jess. Twice."
"He didn't turn me down," Jess insists.
"Come on, B." Jasper laughs, dragging me out of the room. "You look beautiful too, by the way."
"Thanks, Jas, I suppose you look all right," I tease.
He elbows me, grinning.
We walk down the hall, and my face breaks out in a wide smile when I see Emmett. He has the biggest grin, dimples showing, cheeks flushed with happiness.
"B! You look stunning, babe." He kisses my cheek.
"Thanks." I smile and hug him. "You're going to die when you see her, Em."
His smile stretches impossibly wider. "I die every time I see her."
Jasper's voice calls out. "Paddy, come meet B."
I freeze when Emmett steps aside and I see familiar burnished bronze and honey-colored hair. My heart jumps up into my throat and pounds there, my palms sweating.
Holy shit. It's him.
The most vivid emerald eyes I've ever seen lock onto mine, widening instantly. Edward tilts his head at me, rolling his bottom lip inwards. "Hey. You must be the elusive B."
His voice is deep and throaty, and he's fucking Irish.
"Paddy, I take it," I say, my heart racing.
He holds out his hand, the shocking green of his eyes making me feel like I'm on fire. "Nice to finally fuckin' meet ya. I've heard a lot."
"Likewise," I choke out, taking his hand. It's warm and strong and energy pulses down my body from the contact, a wave of heat crashing between my legs.
How is this real? How is this happening?
Edward stares into my eyes, and I watch his Adam's apple bob before he gently pulls his hand out of mine. Something musky and wild fills my nose, my nipples tightening in my silk red dress. He smells incredible. I can feel the space between us heat up, my breath catching in my chest.
"Doesn't look like she teaches kindergarten in that dress, does she?" Jasper pipes up.
I glance at him and he smirks at me. Apparently, the tension between Edward and me isn't only obvious to us.
"Kindergarten? Really?" Edward asks, his eyes glinting with amusement. "That sounds very proper."
"B's a good girl, ain't ya?" Jasper teases.
A wicked smirk graces Edward's perfect full lips. "I bet."
"Let's get this show on the road then, shall we?" Peter says, clapping Emmett's shoulder. "Let's get our boy fucking married."
As they start to walk past, Edward's mouth brushes by my ear, his hot breath making my pussy throb. "Hi, Bella."
I turn to say something, but he's already striding forward, slinging an arm over Peter's shoulders.
xXx
The ceremony is beautiful, and I cry when Emmett sees Rose walking down the aisle, the expression on his face full of pure joy. There's something about weddings that sends your heart clenching in your chest, and I notice Jasper and Alice leaving promptly after, tears running down both of their cheeks.
They're not at the reception, and I'm praying it's because they're off somewhere talking or having sex—repairing their relationship.
I'm standing at the bar, ordering a drink, when warmth floods my back, a musky, wild scent filling my nose. My nipples tighten, a shaky breath leaving my lips.
"Bella." He rolls my name on his tongue, tasting it, licking it off the air.
My back arches in response, hands gripping the counter tightly, but he doesn't touch me. Doesn't close the distance between us that is thick and heavy, magnetized. I will him closer, my body moving back ever so slightly, but I can't make contact, as if we're polarized and there's something in the way.
"What happened?" he asks quietly. "You just...disappeared. I didn't know what... I was worried about ya."
"I was evicted." I glance up and see a smoldering vibrant green in the mirror above the bar. The contact makes me shiver, and I watch his full lips part, those enticing eyes darken.
"My landlord was subletting the apartment to me after the owner had already sent him an eviction notice. That horrible asshole was covering it up so he could take my rent. I couldn't go back; they wouldn't let me. I couldn't even get my stuff myself; they had someone do it for me."
I watch him ponder my words, before he speaks. "You should have…"
"What?" I tilt my head in the mirror. "Waited outside your apartment block for you to show up? I'm not... I couldn't do that."
His mouth brushes the shell of my ear, his soft lips grazing it and sending a jolt between my legs. "Because you were afraid? Or because you don't want me?"
I open my mouth, and his eyes flash warningly in the mirror. "Be careful how you answer, Bella."
"Why?" I whisper, my heart racing.
He breathes out, a hot gust of air against the back of my neck. "Because I want you, and if you tell me you want me too—if you tell me that you would have given me your apartment number and let me fuck you, let me taste that beautiful pussy and fill you with my cock"—his lips graze my skin—"then I'm going to take you upstairs right now, and fuck you all night long."
My voice is husky, as thick as fresh honey, sticking and dripping on the words, "I want—"
The words catch in my throat as Edward leans closer, his breath hot and smoky against my neck, his stubble brushing my cheek.
"What do you want, baby? Tell me."
"I want you to fuc—" I cut myself off with a breathy moan, his body suddenly pressed against my back.
Large hands grip the bar either side of me, a low noise leaving his throat, vibrating against my ear lobe.
I can't see, electricity zinging through me so fiercely I'm not sure I'll survive the onslaught. He's touching me. His hands are on my body.
And his cock…
His thick, hard cock is throbbing against my ass.
"Oh god," I whimper, biting into my lip so hard I can't breathe. I'm aware of everyone around us, all those people in this room, my friends.
"D'ya feel how fuckin' hard you make me?" Edward's voice is low and throaty in my ear, his accent driving me crazy.
"Y-yeah," I pant.
"Tell me, Bella, is your little pussy wet for me," he murmurs, his chest vibrating with a groan. I meet his eyes in the mirror and the hunger in them derails me.
I tilt my head back slightly, moaning. "Yes, you make me so wet, Edward."
"Look at you," he purrs. "Look at how fuckin' horny you are for me."
I stare into his green eyes through the mirror, shuddering, and his burning cheek brushes mine. He's every single one of my deepest desires, and I want to sin again and again.
"I could touch you right here, slide a finger into your tight pussy, right in front of all of these people."
My breath catches and his green eyes glint. "You'd like that, wouldn't you, dirty girl? I could make you come right here, couldn't I? Would you let me?"
"I'd let you do anything to me," I admit, shivering.
Edward groans, his lips parting as he stares at me. "Anything?"
I rub my ass against his cock. "Whatever you want. I just need you."
He hisses quietly, and I gasp as he nips my neck sharply, the pinch going straight between my legs. "Get that fuckin' gorgeous ass to the lift, now. Or so fuckin' help me, I will pull that beautiful dress up and fuck you, right here."
I twist in his arms, my heart thumping in my chest as I stare up at him. The expression on his face is serious, electric green eyes smoldering into mine, and I know in my gut he's not joking.
He's breathing so heavily he's panting. "Bella, I want to kiss you, and unless you want me to do that here—and believe me, once I start, I won't fuckin' stop—you need to go make your excuses and meet me in the lift."
I bite my lip and nod, panting just as heavily as he is. I feel utterly intoxicated.
He gently pushes me away, a warning glint in his eyes that says, I'm about to fucking devour you.
Quickly, I find Rose and congratulate her again, then tell her I have a headache and I'm going to bed early. She pouts at me and asks if I'm sure, and I tell her yes.
I've never been so fucking sure in my life.
Edward is waiting for me by the elevators, the silver cufflinks on his suit jacketing glinting from the glow of the overhead chandeliers. Tiny shards of light are speckled across him, dancing in his hair and the deep black of his suit.
He presses the button for the elevator as soon as I approach, and my lower stomach twists with anticipation, knotting tight. I can hear his breathing pick up as he moves closer to me, fingers lightly brushing mine. The feel of his warm skin sends a jolt through me and a small whimper leaves my mouth. I've never wanted anyone like this before.
The doors open and Edward ushers me inside. "Tenth floor," I manage to get out.
He slams the button and turns to me, his eyes a dark, smoldering jade. I step into him, and I'm about to lean up and kiss him when a middle-aged woman walks into the elevator. I move back from Edward, biting my lip, and gasp as he grabs me and pulls me back into his body, his mouth at my ear.
"My cock is so fuckin' hard, she'd notice," he murmurs, his deep voice tinged with amusement.
I wriggle against his thick length playfully, and his arm wraps tight around my stomach. "I don't know where to start with you," he whispers. "Do I watch you touch yourself first, or do I feast on your beautiful pussy until you come all over my face?"
The woman in the elevator clears her throat, and I glance over to see her cheeks flushing red.
"Sorry," Edward says, his tone suggesting he's not sorry in the slightest.
"There are rooms…" she says, crossing her arms, stiffly.
"Oh, I know," Edward replies. "I'm going to take her into one and fuck her absolutely senseless."
I snort and the woman huffs, muttering something about me being a slut. I roll my eyes, but Edward stiffens behind me.
The elevator finally dings and Edward drags me through it, then holds the door for a moment, staring at the woman. "You can call her a slut all you like, but you know you'll be imagining us shaggin' later when you can't get off."
I burst into laughter as he lets the doors close, tangling his hand with mine as we walk down the hallway. I like how open he is, how he doesn't seem to have a filter. I like that he stood up for me and the way he's holding my hand, strong but gentle, his thumb softly stroking across the back.
I like him.
My thoughts freeze when I get to my hotel room and go to take out my key, his body suddenly pressing into mine from behind. A keening noise leaves my lips as his mouth brushes the back of my neck and he groans, gripping my hips and pressing his thick cock against my ass.
"Open the fuckin' door," he growls, licking up my neck.
I fumble with the keycard, and the second it's swiped, he's pushing down the handle and we're falling through. Gently, I'm turned around to face him and he hums, fingertips brushing my cheek, green eyes staring intensely into mine.
"You are the most beautiful thing I've ever fuckin' seen," he says, voice deep and low.
I shiver, reaching up to touch his chest, but he grabs my hand before I can. "Bella," he says seriously, "if all you want is a fuck, that's fine, and we'll do that, but I wanted to say—before I totally lose my fuckin' mind in you—I wanted to tell ya, that I really, really want to take you out on a date, and just, get to know ya. I know we don't know each other, but...I've heard a lot about ya, and we have a connection, more than from our windows, and…"
"I would love that," I say softly, smiling at him. "Thank you for—"
I'm cut off by his mouth brushing against mine. "Good, because now I really, really need to fuck you. Hard."
"I told you, you can do whatever you want to me," I breathe, snaking my tongue out to lick his bottom lip. He groans gutturally before his mouth descends on mine. His lips are warm and soft, and I whimper as his hand tangles in my hair, pulling me closer, his stubble scratching my chin and cheek.
Edward hums, and my eyes roll back in my head as I feel his wet tongue glide across my lips. I open my mouth and he sweeps inside, his tongue meeting mine. My head spins, my pulse pounding between my legs as I arch into his body, whimpering at the taste of him, my hands gripping his shirt tightly. I can feel his hard cock, pushing into my stomach, and I rub myself against it, a hot gush between my legs.
He's in front of me, and I can finally touch him, taste him.
Our lips break, and I see a flash of green before he spins me around, his mouth descending on my neck, hot and wet, burning hands skimming across the bare skin of my back, one hand roughly gliding the zipper of my dress down. Silky material falls to my feet, and I'm left in nothing but a thong and my heels.
Edward's warm fingertips skate up my sides, goosebumps rising in their wake.
"You are fuckin' gorgeous," he murmurs in my ear, pulling me back against his rock-hard body, one of his legs kicking mine apart so I'm spread wide. His cock is against my ass, nestled between my cheeks, and I let out a whimper as I grind myself against it, every single part of me on fire.
My head falls back to his shoulder as his large palms grip my heavy tits, a low, hungry noise leaving his throat. "Fuck, I imagined how you'd feel, Bella, thought about it a lot, but Christ, you are beyond anything I could have... Fuck!" His fingers pinch my aching nipples and I writhe in his arms, my back arching.
"Oh fuck, look at how much you want me," Edward hisses in my ear. "Look at how hard these little nipples are for me. Did you used to imagine me sucking them, Bella? Licking them, tasting them?"
"Ugh, yes," I manage to say, barely able to stand.
"What about your pussy, Bella? Did you imagine me licking that? Kneeling between your legs and sucking your clit into my mouth, pushing my tongue into you and making you come all over it."
"E-Edward," I pant. I can't breathe. I need him to touch me.
"What?" he purrs in my ear. "What do you want, hmm?"
"Touch me," I beg, reaching back to try to touch him. He tuts, moving out of the way and letting go of one of my breasts, grabbing my arm and pulling it behind my back.
"Touch you?" he rasps in my ear. "I'm going to fuckin' devour you."
I whimper as he turns me back around, and the second I see his green eyes, I'm stepping into him, gripping his hair and pulling his head to mine. Edward lets out a low growl against my mouth and I hit the door with so much force it winds me.
Edward's hands slip under my thighs, and he pulls me up his body, his big cock pressing between my legs. I lock my ankles behind his ass, and he lets me go, hands gripping my wrists and lifting them above my head, forcing my back to arch, my mouth leaving his.
"Fuckin' beautiful tits," Edward groans as he stares down at my chest, the pure hunger on his face making me whimper. His tongue traces a burning, wet path down my neck, and I shudder against him as he licks over my nipple, grunting and pressing his cock harder between my legs.
I gasp as he lets go of my hands and cups my breasts, lifting them up and squeezing them as he sucks and licks, wrapping his wet tongue around my nipples until they're straining toward his mouth and my lower belly is pulsing.
I'm grinding myself all over him, and Edward stares up at me with heavy lidded eyes. "Can I do this to you against the window, Bella? Can I fuck you against the window?"
His words send a jolt through me and my breath catches at the thought of someone watching us.
"I s-said, anything," I breathe, licking my lips.
A guttural noise leaves Edward's mouth and he pulls us away from the door toward the windows that line the hotel room. Unlike the apartments, lots of people can see into these ones, and there are lights on all around.
"Are you sure?" Edward murmurs in my ear, hesitating before the window. I wriggle in his arms, and he puts me down, his eyebrows knitting together.
"Bella I... Fuck—" He cuts himself off with a low growl as I slam his back into the glass, dropping to my knees in front of him. "Oh, fuck, baby, yes," he groans, stroking my jaw as I undo his black pants. "You want to suck my cock?"
I free him from the material and his thick cock hits my cheek, smooth and hard, the wide crown of him a deep pink, dripping with pre-cum. He's bigger than I ever realized; his cock even more perfect close up.
I wrap my hand around him as best I can, feeling the weight of him against my palm. I can't help myself from teasing out my tongue and licking the bead of moisture from the tip. I whimper at the taste of him, salty on my tongue. I need him deep in my mouth.
"Fuck," he pants as my mouth envelops him, his head tilting back against the glass, green eyes burning into mine. "That's a good girl; take me deeper, just like that."
I take him as deep as I can, hollowing my cheeks.
"Fuck, you're such a bad fuckin' girl. Do you like sucking my cock in front of all these people?"
His words flood me with arousal, and I reach up to grip his ass, pulling his pants down.
"Yes," Edward hisses. "Open wide baby, let me fuck your mouth."
I do as he says, and he grips my hair, his hips rocking, his cock filling my throat. I choke on it, my eyes watering, but don't stop, sucking greedily. Edward slows his hips, gently pulling out of my mouth, and I sit back on my heels, saliva dripping down my chin.
He kicks out of his trousers, then unbuttons his cufflinks and shirt, staring down at me, his jaw tight. I whimper, rubbing my thighs together as bit by bit, his muscled torso is revealed to me, the scattering of hair on his chest, the deep indents of his abs, that spectacular V between his hips.
"You're so beautiful," I say reverently.
Edward bends over me and kisses my head softly, then my cheeks, then my mouth.
I shiver at the sweet gesture, then gasp in surprise as his large hand suddenly wraps around my throat, my body tensing, back arching.
"Christ, I want to treasure you, but I also want to break you in half, and I can't fuckin'…"
"Me too," I pant, staring up at him. I want to know him, to trace every inch of him with my tongue and learn the sounds he makes when I do. Make a map of every freckle that dots his torso and face. But I also want his cum down my throat, want him to fuck me so hard I cry, want him to press me into this glass and slam his cock into me until we're dripping with sweat and he's filling me with his cum.
Edward bends down, and my body jolts at the way he looks at me, as if he's about to die of fucking need. "I know," he murmurs throatily.
I shudder as he licks up the saliva from my chin, coating his tongue with me. "Touch yourself," he orders. "Make yourself come, make yourself come in front of this window."
I whimper, opening my thighs as he squeezes my throat gently. He strolls backward, and my heart jumps in my chest as he pauses by the door, flicking off all the lights except one, filling the room with thick shadows.
Edward walks over to the corner of the room, deep into the shadows so I can barely make out his face. "Touch yourself," he repeats in a low growl.
My eyes roll back in my head as his hand wraps around his thick cock. "Edward," I moan, gripping my breast in one hand and sliding the other between my legs, filling my pussy with two fingers.
"Stretch yourself out for me," Edward rasps. "Get your pussy ready for my cock."
I turn my head to look out the window and I hear a low laugh come from where Edward's standing.
"Do you think someone's watching you, baby?" he asks huskily.
Panic and arousal flood me as my eyes scan the apartments, but I don't see anyone looking.
"I don't know," I pant, glancing back at him. I moan as I see his fist pumping languidly, shadows crawling across his muscled body.
"Do you want someone to be watching?"
"Y-yes," I manage to answer, watching him tilt his head back. "Edward, I want you, please."
The noise he makes causes me to clench down on my fingers. "Come for me then, come for me and you can have me, Bella. Let me watch you come."
He steps closer, his cock making a slick noise against his palm. "Do you think the people watching you are touching themselves? Maybe it's a couple and he's pushing his fingers inside of her, imagining it's you he's touching."
I whimper, my fingers rubbing my clit.
"Oh, you like that, baby? Do you like that when he slides his cock into her pussy he'll be thinking of you making yourself come? I bet he wants to know what you taste like. Bet he's fuckin' dying to lick your little pussy. I know I am."
A strangled sound leaves my lips. "Edward, I'm—"
"I'm going to fuck you so hard," Edward growls. "I can't wait to feel you come all over my cock, show all those people what your face looks like when I'm inside of you, filling you."
My eyes roll back as my climax hits and I clench down on my fingers so hard it almost hurts. I'm shaking when I feel hot hands slide down my back, gripping my ass, Edward's mouth by my ear. "Do you need my cock now, Bella?"
I place my hands on the floor in front of me and Edward groans, his warm fingers sinking into my skin. "Like this?"
"Anything," I spit out. "I just want you."
His thumb rubs over my puckered asshole. "Even this, Bella? Could I fuck you here?"
I whimper in response, and Edward lets out a deep groan. "Fuck, look at you... I can see your pussy dripping, baby. You would, wouldn't you, baby? You'd let me fuck your tight little ass."
"Yes," I practically sob. "Anything. Please, Edward, please I—"
I'm cut off as I feel the blunt head of him against my aching pussy, pushing inside. "Oh, fuck," he growls, hands spreading my ass, gripping me tight.
My head bows at the sheer pleasure tearing through my body. He's so big, thick, and hard, filling me, stretching me wide. As soon as his hips meet my ass, he's pulling back and slamming back in.
"Oh, Jesus," he growls.
"So...good," I cry out, my hands shaking on the floor, the deep drag of him inside me like nothing I've ever felt in my life. Sheer ecstasy.
My blurry eyes are fixed on the windows opposite us, and the thought of someone watching him fuck me sends me clenching around him, my pussy gripping him tight.
"Couldn't...fuckin'...wait," Edward snarls. "Needed to be inside you! Fuck, Bella, look at how you're taking my cock. You like the feel of my big cock stretching your tight little pussy?"
I'm so wet it's dripping down my thighs, coating his balls as they slap against my thighs. "Oh god, it's so good."
"So bleedin' good, baby, yes."
"Fuck me harder," I beg.
Edward's strong hands move to my hips and he starts slamming into me so hard I can't see, nothing but garbled screams leaving my mouth.
He's groaning and swearing, filling me with deep strokes that make my knees rub against the carpet. I whimper as he suddenly stops and pulls out of me.
I start to look back at him but large hands grip my hips and flip me over, the breath taken out of me as I land on my back, staring up at him. His nostrils flare, his chest heaving.
"Ed—" I cut myself off as he bends down and runs his tongue up my wet pussy.
"Oh fuck!" I cry.
Edward groans, his tongue and lips sucking and licking me hungrily.
"So good," he moans, "Your pussy tastes so fuckin' good, baby."
He sucks my clit into his hot mouth, massaging it with his tongue, and I shudder against him, rocking my hips over his face.
When he plunges his tongue into my pussy, I lose it, riding the slick muscle as my pleasure peaks. He doesn't stop, licking up everything I give him, and I reach down and grab his soft hair tightly, pulling him up my body.
Edward comes willingly and smirks down at me. "What?" he asks cockily.
I lean up and lick my arousal from his chin, and his smile disappears instantly. I barely have time to breathe before he's spreading my legs wide and slamming into me again.
I scream, my back arching off the floor, and he grips my waist with his large hands, kneeling between my legs as he fucks me hard, each thrust sending a jolt to my pussy.
"I'm coming," I spit, gripping his muscled forearms.
"I know," Edward growls. "Come all over my fuckin' cock, Bella."
I come with so much force that my vision goes black and I lose all sense of who I am, the pleasure rocketing through me so intense that it consumes me.
"Oh fuck," Edward growls. "You're gonna make me come."
I clench down on him at the thought, and he hisses, "You want that, baby? You want me to fill you with my hot cum? Nice and deep in your perfect little pussy."
My eyes roll back in my head and I watch him, panting as he rears his head back, neck straining, gripping my hips so tight I'm sure I'll have bruises.
He lets out a guttural groan, shuddering, and I feel his cock pulse as he comes deep inside of me.
We're both panting, and Edward licks his lips, leaning down and kissing me softly. I whimper, wrapping my arms around his neck and he pulls me gently off the floor, picking me up, his body warm and solid against mine.
Edward lowers us until something soft presses against my back, and I whimper as he pulls out of me. He licks across one nipple, then the other, before kissing down my torso, running his wet tongue across my clit teasingly, making me jolt.
I lean up on my elbows, staring at him in surprise as his tongue dips lower. "You...don't mind?"
Edward arches an eyebrow. "Mind what?"
"Well, that I'm...your cum is..."
"Oh, you think I wouldn't want to lick your pussy because it's full of my cum?" Edward asks in a throaty tone, making me squirm.
I shrug. "Most guys...ahh..."
He sucks my clit in his mouth, and I shudder. Green eyes meet mine as he slides his tongue teasingly over my entrance before plunging it inside of me, swirling and sucking.
My back arches off the bed, my eyes fluttering closed, and I feel his tongue leave me, his large hand suddenly gripping my jaw.
I open my eyes and stare into that hypnotizing green as he pulls my mouth open and sweeps his tongue inside, filling my mouth with a salty liquid. My lower stomach clenches as I flick my tongue against the length of his, tasting his cum. Edward groans hungrily, biting my bottom lip before he pulls back.
He grins at me, and I tremble in his arms, tracing my hand down his chest.
"Give me a sec." He laughs, bending down to kiss my nipple. "I'm not eighteen."
I snort, and he reaches up to tuck my hair behind my ear. We stare at each other for a moment, and I feel my heart lurch, something warm spreading in my chest.
"That was amazing," I murmur, tracing his flushed cheekbone.
"That?" Edward smirks. "That was only the warm-up."
I roll my eyes, and he laughs. "I'm sorry, I'm a bit of a bastard; you'll get used to it. Yes, Bella, that was...indescribably good. I mean...Christ. You are...perfection."
"So are you." I smile and he smiles back, crossing his arms over my bare stomach and resting his chin on them, those intense green eyes staring into mine.
"I can't believe you're Paddy," I blurt out, laughing. "I've been hearing about you for years!"
Edward laughs too, his chest vibrating. "I could say the same, B... What is with the B, anyway? Do you not like 'Bella'?"
"I like Bella, especially from you," I tease, reaching out to stroke his hair without thinking about it. I pause briefly, but Edward's eyes glint, as if he's daring me to stop, so I continue, threading my fingertips through the soft locks.
"So...B?"
I giggle. "B is...it's short for Bumblebee. When I met Rose and Alice, it was Halloween and I went into school dressed as a bee, with the little antlers and everything."
Edward snorts. "Antlers?"
"Antennas," I correct, rolling my eyes. He gives me a huge grin and I feel my heart clench. "I was getting off the subway when Rose dropped her phone and I helped her get it. Alice said, 'You are the best bee I've ever met. What's your name?' and when I said Bella, she said it was perfect. I've been B, ever since."
Edward reaches up to smooth his thumb over my cheek and it heats in response, a shiver going down my spine. "But you don't want me to call you B?"
I shake my head firmly and Edward smirks. "Hmmm, good."
"Why?" I ask him playfully.
"Because, baby," Edward starts, the casual ease that "baby" slips from his mouth making my chest feel like it's going to burst, "B sounds like a good girl's name, and you're not a good girl."
"I'm not?" I tease.
Edward grins, shaking his head, "No, you're a fuckin' dirty girl, aren't ya?"
He moves up my body, his forearms either side of my head, eyes burning into mine. "My, dirty girl," he says softly, his voice almost questioning.
"Yours," I murmur, reaching up and touching his cheek.