The Transylvanian Slide
Warning: some might find this somewhat offensive. If you are seriously offended when reading about various sexual activities and perhaps, perversions, ya might want to hit back on the browser. If you are not old enough to read or buy porn, stop here.
Beep-beep...WAH...Beep-beep...WAH
What had to have been the most grating and annoying sound he'd ever encountered wrenched him into foggy awareness. It sounded as though someone had genetically crossed a dying cow with a fog horn. And fuck!, if it wasn't loud.
Edward groaned miserably and slapped his hand across the offending clock, another anomalous gift from his eccentric mother. It was one of those airplane magazine contraptions that offered what seemed to be a million disturbing sound options, and it also projected a rather too-large, rainbow-colored digital image of the time on the facing wall.
He supposed his mother thought him blind since he refused to wear contact lenses. Each time he visited his parents' home in Lancaster, she hassled him about hiding behind his glasses and covering up 'his leprechaun eyes.' Whatever the fuck that meant! She had to be crazy. Or drunk. Or both. Luckily, whenever his mother dove off into the deep end, his father would knowingly come to his rescue, citing that he required Edward's help with various troublesome electronics. Then, they would sneak off to his father's 'man cave,' which, in all actuality, was nothing more than a white-walled room with a television, to drink overly expensive bottles of foreign beer. Thankfully, his father understood the blessings of silent camaraderie and inebriation.
But his mother's point about hiding behind his glasses was a valid one, however. In a way, they were a crutch, or at least a form of security blanket. He found it easier to deal with people when they were segregated behind that thin layer of plastic. Of course, glasses had their downside. For instance, they always fogged and they did get in the way on occasion. And his eyes were alluring, according to Bella, that is. But from Edward's perspective, purposefully poking around in one's eye did not seem to be an intelligent or well-thought-out activity. The eye was a complex organ that was better left alone, not touched. Not to mention the bacteria transfer! he choked. Instinctively, he felt the urge to lather up in antibacterial soap.
Beep-beep...WAH...Beep-beep...WAH
"Shit!" he cried as he clambered out of bed. For the first time since his initial employment, he slept through not one, not two, but three snooze segments. At precisely nine minutes per snooze, he was now twenty-seven minutes behind schedule. And today was not the best day to be running late.
In less than thirty minutes, he was scheduled to meet his new supervisor, a newcomer to their site. As he threw himself in the shower, he began reviewing the key points that he needed to cover with him. From what he'd been told, Dr. Brandon was a real prick and had developed quite a following of disapprovers. According to his sources, Dr. Brandon was a cost-cutter and a control freak. This would not bode well for Edward. Thus, it was imperative that he articulate his exacting needs and requirements from the very onset.
Under Bella, Edward had been given virtually free reign of all experimental protocol, design, resourcing, and scheduling. She'd understood his innate abhorrence for teams and had allowed him to work as he did best, alone. Really, his girlfriend - girlfriend! - was a superior manager. Were he not so completely besotted with her, he'd have clawed to stay under her supervision. As it were, there were now other considerations that affected their professional association. Namely, the fucking, he smirked, allowing himself a quick second to gloat.
Edward nervously dry washed his face, knocking his lenses askew. He eyeballed himself in the mirror as he raked his fingers through his mussed hair. Carefully and a touch apprehensively, he straightened his tie, a new and seemingly modern design, given to him by Bella. It was thin and squared off rather than his typical traditional tapered. It looked quite good, he thought, matching well with his normal white oxford and charcoal trouser and jacket ensemble. Were he to not open his mouth, he just might be considered attractive.
Traffic was, for once, accommodating, and he raced down the Parkway, singing loudly to the tunes of an old 80's pop song in a poorly disguised effort to clear his hectic mind. His new vehicle was remarkably sprite, and it was a comfortable ride. Emmett's incessant ribbing over his less-than-cool Camry had finally worn him down, and now that he had someone to chauffeur, he'd wanted something a little more representative of his status in life. After hours of consideration and creating a rather complex spreadsheet to categorize and statistically analyze his options, he'd opted for a brand new four-door Volvo. Silver, of course.
Status. That was certainly an interesting concept, one of which he'd never thought much. Until now. Edward had lived virtually his entire life hidden behind his intellect. He was a star in his arena. He was sought out, respected, and admired. Universities and governmental agencies routinely attempted to pry him from his position with promises of pretty labs and fuckloads of funding. When he spoke - at least about blood pathogens - colleagues sat up and took note. He was an expert. In certain specific areas, he was the expert.
In his particular circle, he wasn't really so much an oddity. Yes, he was socially withdrawn, and yes, he exhibited a few secretive avant-garde proclivities. But that was more the norm than the exception amongst academics and researchers. As his pseudo best friend, Jasper, once said, "You're all a bunch of fucking loons." Point made, well done.
Outside of the realm of pharmaceutical biochemistry, he was, indeed, the odd duck. Despite his newly cemented relationship with Bella, he still blanched at the thought of willfully participating in conventional social spheres. He simply could not relate to the masses, not in any way that he could see. Standing amongst groups of people drinking wine and idly chatting about television shows or the latest bestselling hardcover was his worst form of punishment. To his ears, their words always sounded like nails to a chalkboard. Furthermore, he never had anything useful to contribute to such conversations. Edward did not read bestsellers. He simply did not think as they did, and he could not comprehend the behavior of normal people.
Somehow, Bella automatically knew all of this and had simply accepted him for the raging outsider he was. She tolerated his obsessions, and she never tried to force him into uncomfortable situations, at least not ones in which she wasn't accompanying him. Because of her acceptance, he was so in love with her that his chest hurt just thinking about her. The moment he saw Bella's face light up when she discovered his newest gift for her, a large teardrop Tiffany diamond pendent, Edward had been nearly blinded by her reaction. Well, and then he really was momentarily blinded when she straddled his dick and fucked him into oblivion. That was an excellent morning. Unlike today, he thought bitterly.
At two minutes until eight, he burst through the front lobby doors, immediately scanning his badge and then scurrying directly to the office of his new supervisor. In one sense, his near-tardiness was his redemption. With little time to dwell, Edward hadn't been able to work himself up into the anxious knot that he would have had he had idle time.
Uncertain of his new supervisor's preferred protocol, he quietly waited outside the closed office of Dr. M. A. Brandon.
"Goddamnit!" a screechingly loud voice called from within.
For a moment, Edward was completely perplexed. And then, he launched into a hopeless near panic attack coupled by hyperventilation. So, Dr. Brandon is female. Fuck, he groaned. Please, God, no!
Dealing with one female was problematic enough, and he was fucking her. When Bella had transferred and taken over his old division, it'd taken him months to even be able to look her in the eye, regardless of his sexual bent. Edward's typical group social anxiety was one thing. Dealing one on one with a female, even one whom his dick didn't gravitate toward, however, was on a wholly different level. Women were entirely other. And already this one seemed to be loud and pushy, exactly the personality he did not deal well with. Thus, his well-conceived plan of attack regarding his project's management was shot, dead in the water.
~O.o~
"Fuckity, fuckity, fuckity," he mumbled under his breath, as his fingers impatiently tapped in rhythm.
His computer screen was a blazing bright blue, and the computing technical service group was nothing but a gathering of idiots. All of his data was lost in some maelstrom of 0's and 1's and locked up keys. And he had a presentation to put together for his new boss.
Frustrated and exasperated, he repeatedly banged his forehead against the oak tabletop of his desk. "Can my day suck any worse!" he grated.
When he looked up, he found himself being watched from the doorway by the one person who could make him smile at the moment. Her brow was cocked up sharply in a bemused expression, and her arms were crossed over her tits, plumping them up delectably. Belying her collected exterior, her lips twitched as though she wanted to laugh.
"Don't fucking ask, ok?" he breathed. His thumb and forefinger sneaked beneath the rubbery pads of his wire frames and massaged the bridge of his nose. His head ached so smartly that he could barely see, let alone hold a comprehensible conversation.
"Need a blow job?" she asked, her lips markedly quivering. Even with migraine-induced double vision, her lips were entirely too distracting.
"No-, Wait- I'm sorry, what?" he blurted, not quite believing what his ears had heard.
"Dr. Cullen, I think you are a little stressed out. And I think you could use a break? I was merely offering my services. If you don't want my mouth around your cock, I'll understand," she said, smirking.
Oh, yes, that's what I thought she said. Okay! Yes!
The blue screen of death and his presentation were quickly forgotten.
"Um, okay?" he muttered, unsure of exactly where and how she meant to arrange this little rendezvous. But already, the heat of anticipation began creeping down his abdomen to his groin. In fact, by the time he heard the door shut and lock click, he was already at half-mast.
This whole episode was entirely reminiscent of more than one of their previous couplings. His office was, by now, a well-fucked locale. Being at the far end of the hall and having an empty office as his neighbor unquestionably had advantages.
"Stand up," she commanded, a hard edge to her voice. She fucking growled at me! he exclaimed, frozen in place. Although, his cock leapt to attention, being the smarter of the two.
"Dr. Cullen, I said, 'stand up,'" she ordered. The look in her eyes sent anticipatory shivers down his spine. He was literally trembling. He knew that look well. That was what he'd deigned the Dirty-Bella-Fuck-Slut look.
Without further delay he stood and kicked his chair back. He watched with rapt attention as her hips swished toward him. He hadn't seen her this morning, so the sight in front of him was a welcome reprieve from his earlier stress. As always, she managed to provoke each cell in his body while keeping on every article of clothing.
Her hair was piled up on top of her head, held up by one of those sadistic looking clips of hers. Underneath the purplish ultra-violet overhead light, her skin was luminescent, glowing a brilliant porcelain white. He wanted to lick it.
Fuck me! he moaned, as his eyes traveled down her long neck to her cleavage. No silk today. Instead, she wore a crisp white cotton button-up, very much like his own. Only hers was much, much more well fitted, and it had a seductive, plunging 'V'. She topped it all off with another of her poured-on black skirts and fuck me heels. Today's foot decoration showed just the tiniest bit of blood-red painted nails through a cutout at the toe. She is the devil in disguise, he thought happily. Punish away, you demon woman!
"Dr. Swan, do I see black lace underneath your white blouse? Isn't that a no-no?" he murmured with raised eyebrows, knowingly provoking her. As if to point out the obvious, his hand waved at her form.
"Quiet, Dr. Cullen, unless you want to take care of that problem by yourself," she said, pointedly glaring at the straining fabric over his erection.
She stopped just short of him, nipples jutting out from the fabric of her shirt and just grazing his chest. Without warning and to his immediate surprise and arousal, she shoved him backward until he felt his backbone hit his office's far wall.
"Fuck," he whispered, his eyes wide. Her russet eyes bored into his, and her mouth was so very close to his that he could feel her hot breath on his tongue. Taunting him, she leaned closer, ghosting across his lips, daring him to respond.
With little ado, her hands whipped to his belt buckle. His slacks fell in a dark, inky pool around his black-socked ankles. Hardly an attractive look, he dimly recognized. But she didn't seem to mind in the least. Impatient, she jerked his boxers down, springing his cock free.
His breath caught when her head suddenly dropped from his view. The dull thud of her knees hitting the tile echoed in the quiet room. He looked down to find her gazing intently up at him, her cherry stained lips right at the head of his cock. Eyes glued to her face, he watched as her tongue darted out and licked the droplet of pre-cum oozing from his slit.
"Bella," he whined. "Don't tease me. God, don't tease me!"
"Do you like seeing my mouth around your cock, Edward?" she purred.
"Fuck, you know I do," he breathed. More than you could ever comprehend, he added mutely.
Seeing her on her knees in front of him like that made him want to grab her and fuck her senseless across his desk, just as he'd done weeks prior. It made him want to do all varieties of deplorable things to her, things that he knew she would indubitably enjoy.
His long fingers splayed out behind him, pressing against the wall as he watched her circle his head with the tip of her wet tongue.
"Mmm-mmm," she hummed.
"Please," he asked hoarsely, as his jade eyes clenched shut.
Finally relenting, she ran the flat of her tongue from base to tip, lapping at his lengthened and stretched skin.
"More," he breathed. "Suck it, please."
Edward glanced down to see her still looking up at him, naughty and mischievous. Without warning, she wrapped her lips tightly around his girth and speared herself.
"Oh, god," he exhaled, reveling in the smooth texture of her mouth and the cinching sensation of her lips.
His head lolled back and smacked against the wall as she began bobbing her head up and down his length. Her nails scraped deliciously along his bare calves and thighs, a countering sensation to the velvet of her cheeks and lips.
"That's it, baby. Oh, oh, God," he mumbled.
The pressure of her lips increased, and she began to vary her pacing and depth. Deep plunges to the back of her throat were followed by short, fast, circling dips. Just when he thought he'd adjusted to the quick, shallow thrusts, she'd take him all the way again. It was pure, brain-boiling dick fuckery at its finest. Too much, fuck me, too much! Goddamned cock sucking queen! he thought wildly, cursing and thanking any and all deities for his good fortune.
His fingers twitched and jumped, longing to thread in her hair and to pull her down onto him. But she was running this show, so he forced himself to behave. His fingers nearly clawed through the drywall fighting his restraint.
A slender hand grasped his length, replacing her mouth. Confused by the change, he looked down.
At some point, she'd released her hair from its clasp, so it fell in messy disarray around her shoulders and tumbled down her back. Her eyes were wide and her expression was hot and horny. Edward knew, without question, that she wanted to fuck him, but was holding back, granting him this moment of indulgence.
"Fuck my mouth, Edward," she breathed, as her hand tightened around his cock. "I know you want to."
He grunted incoherently on the upstroke as her fingers twisted and pinched the tip. His spine slammed back against the wall again.
"Can't...Bella," he forced, nearly drowning in the building heat in his groin.
"I want you to. I want you to come down my throat," she said softly, as her hands sought out his.
"Fuck...Bella. God, what are you doing to me?" he cried, as she guided his palms to her hair.
Hesitantly, his fingers wrapped themselves into her soft locks, grasping her head on either side. She smiled - fucking smiled! - as she took him into her mouth again. He acquiesced in secret delight and slowly began shallow thrusts, guiding her along his cock.
He gasped when her teeth gently raked across his skin, creating stupefying friction, and he panted heavily when she sucked harder and hummed. It's vibrating! My cock is fucking vibrating! he squeaked.
After some minutes, he grew more confident that she wouldn't gag or worse, and it became quite evident that this activity was turning her on. Grinning, he tightly wound the long, chestnut strands around his fist, pulling her down onto him. Her resulting moan cut through him, sending a rippling shudder down his legs. Harder and deeper, he pumped her mouth, groaning and gasping as she curled her tongue around him.
"So, fucking... good! Bella. Oh, fuck...so good!" he chanted. "I love seeing...you... like this. You are so... fucking... naughty. My dirty, little slut... Mine. God, all mine! Fuck, what I want to do to you!"
The tightening in his abdomen became almost intolerable. His thighs were quaking beneath her hands, and his breath was ragged. Sweat beaded along his brow and ran down his temples as his climax approached.
"Baby, oh God! So close... so... goddamned good!" he moaned.
When he motioned for her to pull away, she refused, grinning around his cock. The suction increased again. Fucking tongue magic! he cried.
Right on the cusp, he pushed into her hard, pressing down her throat. When he hit the back, he completely lost all control. In three successive deep thrusts, he released, calling her name.
In exhaustion, his chin sank down to his chest, and his eyes closed. Languidly, she lapped his length, allowing him to come down from his high. After some moments, she rose and pressed her chest against his.
"Better?" she whispered.
"You have no fucking idea," he replied tiredly before pressing his lips to hers.
He could taste himself on her lips. Of course, he knew what he tasted like. They'd both swapped from intercourse to oral and back many times. He knew it couldn't taste good. It was salty and bitter, very unlike her musky sweetness. But there was always something so sensual about knowing that she'd willingly and gladly swallowed all of it while sucking him off on her knees. That image was masturbatory nirvana.
"I have a meeting," she returned lightly, bringing him out of his abstraction. "In fact, with your new supervisor."
His eyes boggled, and his face scrunched in mild panic.
Bella placed a steadying hand over his heart, seeing his distress, "Tonight. We'll talk tonight. You're coming over, right?"
Edward took a deep breath and focused on the feel of her palm against his skin. He could feel the heat from her body even through the thick cotton of his still-buttoned shirt.
"Yeah, of course. I'll be returning the favor," he smiled, albeit forced.
~O.o~
"I hate her!" he exclaimed, his arms flailing about haphazardly. "I know it. This is going to be a disaster! I'm such a fucking clodpate. If I'd have just kept my mouth shut with that goddamned Jacob fucking Black, none of this would have happened.
"Agh! But then, well, fuck, then I wouldn't be here. Shit. Fuck. Damn," he bemoaned, hurling expletive after epithet.
With a muffled thwack, his back hit the overly stuffed cushion of her sofa. His shoulders were taut and knotted, all effects of his earlier oral massage having vanished late that afternoon after another meeting with Dr. Brandon. Taking a deep breath, he looked over to the winged side chair where Bella was sitting while quietly observing his tantrum.
Bella's cool expression was marred by her telltale trembling lips. While he wanted to be irritated, for no doubt, she was laughing at his outraged and wild reaction, he found himself diverted by the goings on of her mouth. "Well, certainly no change there," he muttered under his breath, slightly annoyed by his uncontrollable physical responses. Regardless of his desire, he was already envisioning the way her red lips looked wrapped around his cock. Diverting, indeed.
"So, I take it your meeting with Dr. Brandon didn't go as well as you'd have liked?" she snickered.
"Not funny, Dr. Swan! And no, she is a bitch! I hate her," he bellowed.
Bella's brow quirked at his tone as she continued, "So, what did she do, Edward?"
His arms crossed his chest and he realized that he looked - and sounded - like a petulant child, but at the moment, he could not bring himself to care. He was angry and insulted, and this was the first opportunity he had to reflect and Bella was the first person with whom he could vent.
"She wanted to review my resourcing plans," he grumbled. "She said my program was expensive and needed higher-level supervision! And that she couldn't believe that I'd been allowed so much freedom. And she wants to assign some piddling idiot to assist me! I don't work with other people! Like she has any idea what my research even involves! Cost-cutting bitch. I bet she is fucking Caius!"
At that, Bella laughed outright, "Hardly. I think you'll find that Alice will be a fine supervisor and ally once she understands how you work. You take some getting used to, you know?"
His head shot in her direction, and his eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?" he asked, bewildered by this new information.
She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Edward, you are absolutely brilliant. Truly genius, unlike anyone else we have. But you simply have neither the patience nor the inclination to deal with people who can't keep up with your intellect. You are cerebral in the extreme and more than a touch pedantic. You scare the shit out of poor Emmett. Why do you think he teases you so mercilessly? It's the only way he can compete. Most don't even bother trying."
"What?" he asked, incredulous. It was true that he hated working with people and he suddenly realized that it was also true that out of all the scientists in the building, he was the only one allowed to run his own projects. Before this point, he'd never given it too much consideration. How odd that it was all intentional!
"Let's just say that you don't play well with others. Well, except for with me, that is." Her inflection was not lost to Edward's analytical ear.
"Alice will eventually learn all of this. You just have to give her a chance. And be patient," she laughed.
"I liked working under you," he muttered, still not pleased with the situation. But then, he recognized that change was never pleasant for him. Perhaps Bella was right. Perhaps Dr. Brandon would be a satisfactory replacement after some initial introductory phase. Probably not. Probably Dr. Brandon was a giant, walking, throbbing, know-it-all bitch, he groused, unconvinced.
Bella lifted herself from the nearby chair and walked over to him. She stood just between his legs, thighs spread to shoulder width, close enough that his face was level with her hips. A slim finger stole to his jaw and lifted his face upward.
"You still work under me, Dr. Cullen," she purred. "And I think a little repayment for earlier today is in order."
Oh my, she wants to play. Yes! Bella was bar none the finest diversion he'd met. He could be reeling and obsessing in his normal fashion, and just a touch or twitch of her lips would drive his mind to nothing but thoughts of her.
His lips turned up as he watched her disrobe. Just watching her fingers unclasp the buttons on her blouse sent little shock waves down his spine straight to his dick. Playfully, she tossed her blouse over his head, and by the time he'd all but ripped it off, her skirt was sliding down stocking-clad legs.
"New?" he asked, eyeballing a lingerie ensemble he hadn't seen before.
"Just came in yesterday," she chuckled.
His forefinger slid beneath the edge of the delicate black lace at the hip of her bikini. He loved the silkiness of her skin. Especially when it was all wrapped up in pretty paper.
"Very nice," he murmured, eyes glued to her nearly nude form. "Turn around."
Smiling seductively, she spun around slowly, rocking her hips.
"Fuck," Edward breathed, as he reverently thumbed the translucent material covering her ass. He inhaled. This close, he could smell the aroma of sex.
It was intriguing how lingerie functioned. While he'd seen everything underneath more times than he could recall - no, in actuality, he knew precisely the number of times he'd seen her naked body - seeing her decorated in sheer silks and laces sent his debauched imagination into overdrive. There was something so terribly alluring about seeing fine fabric drape across the roundness of her ass. Or those sheer thigh highs! He wanted to tear them off her with his teeth.
He stood up and pressed his chest into her back. His hands ran down her arms, along her sides, and then over the curves of her hips. Leaning down, he grazed the skin of her shoulder with his lips. Lapping at her throat, he stroked her bare stomach, marveling at its flatness and smooth texture. With a sharp exhalation, Bella's head fell back and rested on his shoulder. As he ventured upward to cup her breasts, she moaned loudly in appreciation.
"Do you want me to lick your pussy, Bella?" he whispered into her ear as he darted his fingers beneath her bra and rolled her nipples. "Do you want to come, baby?"
"Ah...God," she whimpered.
"I know you do. I can smell how aroused you are. And I want to taste it. Right now. Bend over."
Bella's breath caught in her throat as she let out a strangled, "Please."
With no other warning, he pulled her to the side of the sofa, and palmed her back, folding her over the armrest. He hooked his thumbs around the elastic of her panties and unceremoniously yanked them down around her thighs. At once, Edward fell to his knees. He parted her cheeks and slid the cup of his hand between her legs, groping her pussy. His forefinger immediately found her clitoris, and at contact, she trembled against his hand and let out another low moan of pleasure.
This particular position was maddeningly salacious. Her ass was just so fucking arousing, and it was just right there. As such, he could not resist immediately plunging his tongue into her already slick folds. He ran his tongue up and down her pussy, luxuriating in both her taste and her verbal signals. Bella liked oral sex. A lot. And according to her, he was a fucking master of cunnilingus. Which really was only fair, considering her own oral skills. One always should reciprocate, he rationalized.
"Edward, oh shit! God, yes!" she cried out, as his fore and middle fingers slipped inside of her.
Oral sex was really a prime example in multitasking. To do it well, one had to make use of as many appendages as available. He could easily rub her clit, or finger her into absurdity, or even tongue-fuck her. But to do all three… that was how to get Bella off. By 'get her off', he meant screaming and shaking for two solid minutes. So, Edward, being the skillful one he was, did just that.
He pumped her and licked her at a slow but firm pace. He could feel her muscles beginning to tighten around his fingers, signaling her impending orgasm. The tighter she cinched down, the slower he licked, pressing the flat of his tongue against her skin, purposefully teasing her body with friction and drawing out its release. His tongue's path lengthened, covering from her clit, where one finger still circled, to just past the edge of her slit. With each pass, as he reached its end, he teased her by lapping at the skin past her slit and lightly grazing her pucker.
Bella literally squealed at the unexpected contact, and her pussy muscles went into overdrive, locking down on his fingers and shuddering violently.
"Oh my God! Edward! Fuck me, yes!" she wailed.
Vaguely, he heard the sounds of her fisting the cushions as he eagerly licked the fluid issuing from her orgasm.
"Oh, oh, God!" she panted, as her body trembled uncontrollably.
After a moment of quiet caresses, he stood and turned her around to face him.
"Good?" he whispered against her lips.
"Mmm-mmm," she hummed.
Hands on her hips, he lifted her to sit on the armrest. He kissed her hard, tasting her mouth, her lips, her tongue. Her hands jerked his shirt from his pants and hastily unbuttoned it. He chuckled when he realized that more than one button would require repair due to her zeal.
Edward could feel desire coursing through her veins. She literally pawed at his stomach, tracing and scratching the lines of his abdominal muscles. His chest tingled when she pulled her fingers through his meager hair.
"Bella, God, I want you," he grunted into her mouth.
"Take it, baby. Take me," she moaned back.
Her legs wrapped around his waist and he lifted her, only to then sprint back to her bedroom. Enthusiastically, he sat her down on the bed - very nearly throwing her - and he dropped his slacks and boxers. As quickly, he almost ripped the new lingerie off of her, leaving her deliciously naked. God how he loved seeing her stripped down and waiting for him!
Just as he climbed on top of her, she smirked.
"What are you smiling about, you little devil?" he asked, brow raised.
As if in slow motion, she brought her fingers around to his lips.
He looked at her dumbly until he registered the inconceivable taste of metal and salt.
"Wha-when? How?" he stammered, wide-eyed, as his tongue traced his lips, licking her off of them. Goddamnit! Oh, God! he thought, as his eyes rolled back. His body was like a live wire, buzzing and trembling, and his cock was suddenly aching for release.
She just shrugged, and then, fuck! if she didn't spread her own blood across her lips.
"Oh, look what I've done!" she mock cried. "Want a lick?"
His lips slammed into hers, licking and tasting and biting along her lips.
"You taste so goddamned good, Bella. You have no idea what this does to me," he breathed.
"Yes, I do," she returned, just before pushing her fingers inside of his mouth.
A moment later, he plunged himself inside of her as he sucked on her two fingers. He paused only for a second before pounding into her as though he'd not had sex for years. The double sensation of tasting her and fucking her all at once was no less than mind-shattering. His tongue rolled around her fingers and he sucked just a touch harder than he'd intended. But he could taste her!
"Oh, so hot," he cried out in ecstasy. So goddamned good! his mind shouted. Never want to leave! Mine, mine! All mine!
His hips screamed with his excitation, but from Edward's perspective, muscle soreness was a day after concern. Over and over, he pumped inside of her, listening to the sounds of her rhythmic pants and hisses. Her pussy muscles writhed around his cock, massaging it and coaxing him closer to orgasm.
"Yes, Edward! Harder! That's right, fuck me, Edward!" she stuttered.
"It that how...you...like... it? Hard...Deep?" he grunted around her fingers.
"That's it! Oh, yes!" she moaned as he swore he hit her back wall. "Ungh. Oh...Ah! Goddamnit!"
Her heels dug into his backside, pulling him closer, and the hand not held captive by his mouth raked down his back, nails scraping against his flesh. Her hips lifted off the mattress, meeting his every thrust. Their skin coated with sticky sweat, wetly smacking with each downstroke. For Edward, nothing could compare to the sensations he felt when he was buried inside of her.
"I want...to feel...you come, Bella!" he groaned.
His strength was waning just as he began to feel her body rippling beneath him. Her hand slapped against his skin and her nails dug down into his flesh. To his delight, Bella's face scrunched into one of his favorite sights as he felt her muscles once again locking down.
"Oh, that's right, baby. Come on my cock," he panted.
If she came hard the first time off of his oral ministrations, then the second was something altogether otherworldly. Stroke after stroke, he felt her pussy clenching and quivering; it was almost - almost - too tight to move. It felt like velvet fabric knotting around him.
Within seconds, he followed, exploding inside of her, feeling her muscles milking him for everything he had.
When his hips finally came to rest, he released her fingers from his mouth, and his head lolled back, facing up to the ceiling. For just a moment, his vision went black and his breath came in sharp, shallow pants. As he glanced back down at Bella's limp form, he smiled, and then fell to the mattress beside her.
Bella exhaled loudly and hummed in approval. "Fucking band-aids, Edward. I think we'll need a few," she murmured, half chuckling and half yawning.
Luckily, both he and Bella were always prepared, considering their predilections, so he didn't have to look far. In the nightstand nearest, he found her stash.
"Are you joking?" he asked, as he pulled the small box out of the drawer.
"What?" she replied, trying to appear innocent and shy. She fails so miserably at that. Nothing about Bella is innocent, Edward noted with glee.
"They fucking sparkle!"