Thank you chellekathrynnn, magicbustrip, LarissaValentiMeedachi2613, Ella (they're going to become close, but I agree - it's not just him that's important, her relationships with his family members are equally so!), souverian, and Love. Fiction. 2020 for your reviews!

Hope everyone enjoys this chapter - or at least, Carlisle's snippet.

[PROBABLY NSFW]

Chapter 16

"What did you fancy doing with me tomorrow?" Carys asked around an hour after they arrived back at hers as she sauntered into her bedroom on her tiptoes, stopping as she reached her dresser to stand in front of the mirror as she swept her long hair over one shoulder.

She wasn't surprised by the silence that met her question and tamped down a smirk as she dotted cream around her face.

As she'd discovered when she'd tried it on the day before, her silk slip did fit... It simply didn't fit some parts of her body as well as it did others.

Her waist? Perfectly.

Her thighs? It clung like a second skin.

Her breasts? Well, it took a few good tugs, but she eventually got it over them - she just had to make sure she didn't take any deep breaths.

Replacing the lid of her moisturiser, she turned slowly towards the bed - made eye contact with the shocked vampire sitting frozen against the headboard - as she began to stroke the cream over her face and neck.

She licked her lips slowly, tilted her head to the side as she rubbed her hands together, and repeated her question in the low, sultry voice she'd practised the night before, "What do you want to do with me tomorrow, Dr Cullen?"

It took a few seconds, but he finally moved - finally appeared to take a breath, to blink - and slid off the bed, prowling towards her with his eyes darker than she'd seen them before, as he announced, "I'm sorry but I cannot in all good conscience allow you to sleep in that."

Carys let out a snort of laughter and pressed her hand to her mouth, desperately trying to keep her breathing steady - and shallow.

Her expression cleared as she leaned back against the dresser and placed her hands flat on its surface, spreading them out to her sides as she cocked her hip. "You can't... In all good conscience...?" She echoed, rolling her shoulders back, stopping when she met painful resistance from the bodice of her slip and had to try her best not to wince.

Carlisle's gaze instantly dropped below her collarbone, a predatory glint in his eye as he took another step closer. "No, as a doctor, I cannot - not when it's crushing you like that. It's my professional opinion you should remove it or change."

He took a deep breath, cleared the last few inches between them, and pressed his hands by her hips, caging her against the dresser with his body.

Carys swallowed as the expression between a rock and a hard place came to mind, and glanced down as heat suffused her, wound low in her belly.

She thought to herself for a moment.

"Time out," she announced suddenly, pulling her hands between them to sign a T as she leaned back over the dresser. "Are we talking honest to goodness - you're a doctor and this really isn't good for the health of my breasts, or are we talking - it's attractive the way they're smushed and you're saying that because you think I should take it off?"

Carlisle appeared taken aback for a moment before he frowned and leaned away, giving her a little more space. "You have... Seen yourself, haven't you?"

"Yeah, of course," she nodded, holding her hands out, palms up, between them, "but I thought I looked kind of sexy. If I'm looking like I'm-"

He shook his head. "'Kind of sexy' isn't the term I'd use, Carys."

"Oh..." She blinked hard and frowned a little.

"Oh, what?"

"Oh, I mean, I thought it looked sexy, but if it looks ridiculous..." She trailed off, lips twisting in disappointment as she looked away.

He shook his head again, far more seriously. "Carys, you're half-naked, poured into silk. Silk which fits your body like a glove save for your paps-"

"My what now?" She asked, twisting her body this way and that as she stared down at it and tried to work out what he could be referring to.

Carlisle looked vaguely embarrassed as he pointed towards her chest and clarified, "Your breasts."

Her mouth dropped open, eyes widening in shock. "Paps... Like pap... Like... Porridge...?"

"It was in common usage when I grew up, it means breast or nipple - both of which I can clearly see suffering in that nightdress." He waved away the explanation impatiently before his gaze softened a little as he turned to entreaty. "You would put Cleopatra to shame, my love."

Carys crossed her arms and then thought better of it when her chest pressed higher in the slip, letting her arms fall to her sides as she stared up at him. She was vaguely horrified at his clearly - to her mind at least - ridiculous attempt at flattery.

"You knew her then?" She joked, raising her eyebrows as she indicated with her index finger. "Was that before, or after she took her throne-?"

"Carys," Carlisle complained as he placed a hand on her knee, abandoning his attempt. "I may be dead, but I'm not six feet under... So you need to tell me now if this is revenge - because if it's not, I'm going to throw you onto that bed and finish what I started on Wednesday. And I'm going to make damn sure you know exactly what I think of your body whilst I do."

"It's revenge," she squeaked. "And you're not supposed to say things like that, or... Touch me like that-" she complained on a light moan, "-because then I'll be the one suffering again!"

Carlisle's gaze stroked over her body, stroked fire through her veins, before he returned his focus to her thighs as he slid his hand up over her knee, her thigh, the tips of his fingers barely slipping beneath the hem of her skirt.

"Are you sur-"

"Time in! No touching!" She called as relief that he'd at least seemed to respond properly overtook the intense wave of desire his touch created. She ducked under his arm as he staggered back a step in apparent dismay, glancing coyly over her shoulder as she sauntered towards the bed and bent over, raising her knee to-

To-

"Need some help there?" Carlisle asked from directly behind her as her tight skirt put an immediate halt to her attempt at crawling onto her bed seductively.

She straightened and sighed.

Her entire body throbbed, her muscles locked, when he pressed his hands to her waist, adjusted his hold, and gripped.

She didn't really want his assistance, but even as she tried to ignore the way her body melted when his hands flexed again, her traitorous brain skidded to a halt and seemed either unwilling or unable to form a coherent plan of how to get onto the bed whilst not looking ridiculous - at least, not one that didn't include Carlisle.

Her lungs constricted when he stepped closer and one of his hands briefly left her waist to sweep her hair over her shoulder again, and she realised her body was all too ready to abandon her plan as well.

"Was that a yes...?" He whispered into her ear, lifting her onto her tiptoes as he tugged her back against his hard chest.

She pressed her lips together and turned her head, nodding as she avoided his eye in case he used the molten golden irises to dazzle her and she gave up the last of her determination. She cursed her body and mind for their reaction to him and tried desperately to remind herself of the state he'd left her in - not only two nights before, but the night before that - though, she knew that was a bit of a push. It was only a dream, after all.

Dammit, it had felt real! She insisted to herself.

"Yes...?" He purred against her ear.

Carys thought she deserved an award as she just about managed not to moan.

"Yes..." She whispered faintly, closing her eyes as her breath came in shallow pants.

"Yes... What?" He questioned, reminding her of how she'd once likened him to the snake in the garden of Eden. How wrong she'd been - he was far more tempting than that. "Yes... What, Miss Vale?" He repeated when she failed to answer.

"Yes... Please," she replied, catching herself the instant before she sank completely against him.

His hands flexed as he lifted her a little higher, and she gripped his wrists for support as her feet left the ground completely.

"Yes, please, what?" He whispered, smiling against her ear as he drew a shuddery moan from her.

Did he have to sound so unaffected? When every part of her seemed to be burning up, every nerve ending tingling, every muscle clenching?

Revenge, revenge, revenge, revenge, revenge, she chanted to herself urgently - hopelessly.

"Yes... Please... Dr Cullen..." She whispered.

His hands shifted and she yelped as he lifted her, carried her halfway across the bed as if it was nothing, and dropped her.

She fell face-first into the pillows.

She turned her head and glared at him over her shoulder as she let go of his wrists and pushed back on her heels.

"You know," she complained breathlessly, "this only works if you actually respond. It's not really fair for you to-"

Carlisle growled. "Woman. If your intention is to torture me, I can assure you, you are succeeding."

"Really?" She asked, shuffling around to face him.

She stilled the instant she saw his face - his features were etched like granite, his jaw locked. He looked to be in pain rather than overwhelmed with desire as his use of the word "torture" would suggest.


She must be mad, Carlisle concluded as he gritted his teeth against a fresh surge of desire that locked his tense muscles, dried his mouth, and heated his cold body.

Had he not been clear with her all those weeks ago about how his need for her bordered on ferocious - that she was the one thing that he craved above all else - above blood, even? That she was the one person who could set him on edge, could beckon and provoke the hunter - the predator he had become accustomed to so easily controlling? The one person who could rock the calm disposition he prided himself on?

He lowered his chin as his eyes narrowed and flashed warningly, nostrils flaring as he fought that part of him that demanded he take control of this game of hers, that he reminded her of her admission two nights previously - that she would share her body with him. The part of him that insisted he laid claim to every inch of her and hear his name repeated over and over again until it was the only thing she could remember save the pleasure he gave her.

He must not have made the point as well as he'd imagined. She was clearly still harbouring under the illusion that he was an angel.

Well, he thought, neither angel nor saint could resist such temptation.

He closed his eyes, trying desperately to ignore the way her dark hair fell in tight curls over her shoulders and back, spilling over her arms as it drew his attention to her body - framed her body. The way the silk of her nightdress - if the scrap of fabric could be called such a thing - clung to her every curve, accentuating the flush of her desire as the colour blended itself with her skin to create the illusion of nakedness. The way she was one deep breath from exposure - either due to the struggling seams or his losing control.

His attempts were to no avail. How could they be when the image of her was burned into his retinas - so clear in his memory.

His eyes snapped open.

"Carys," he whispered, wresting control from somewhere deep inside himself as he kept the growl from his voice and fought to relax his features so as not to scare her, "I do believe this is what is known as cruel and unusual punishment."


Carys blushed as she ducked her head and tucked her hair behind her ear. Perhaps it was working, after all.

It might work better if he stopped closing his eyes every few seconds, but it seemed - now, at least - as if he might want her enough that she could get her own back. If he was calling it "cruel and unusual punishment" as well, surely that suggested that behind his cool exterior, she was chipping away at him.

"I don't think it is," she argued lightly with a shake of her head that displaced her hair. She tossed it back over her shoulder as she grinned triumphantly up at him, unfurling her legs to stretch them out across the bed beside him as she settled back against the headboard. "It's what's known as getting your own back."

Carlisle shook his head and she wondered if he was breathing at all. A muscle twitched in his jaw as he closed his eyes again.

She drew her knees up to her chest and he opened his eyes and started, pushed away from her. For an instant, it almost seemed as if he was coiling back, ready to pounce, and she chuckled to herself - it was such a ridiculous thought.

"You'll have to forgive me if I don't laugh," he muttered, slowly relaxing as he sat as far away from her as the bed would allow, crossing his legs as he gripped his knees.

She was envious of the way he could sit so straight, so elegantly, without anything to prop him up. It reminded her yet again of how she'd thought he must have been a dancer in a former life.

"I wasn't laughing at what I said," she explained cheerfully, her heartbeat slowing, her breath evening out. She was proud of how well she was doing now that he was further away from her - proud of the way her revenge could outweigh her desire just enough that she didn't give up her plans for the chance she could actually tempt him into doing more than just sleeping with her that night.

No matter what he'd said, she was fairly sure he'd want to wait a little longer - if the ease of which he left her before was any indication.

It definitely helped that he was still fully dressed, but she still wondered if he'd been alluding to the truth, and she could convince him that tonight was the-

No, she reminded herself. You can't have revenge if he leaves you again before anything really happens.

"Could you please do me a favour and at least lower your legs?" He asked after a few seconds as he averted his gaze, his voice strangely strained. "I don't think you realise how short that is. I can see the tops of your thighs and it's really quite disconcerting."

Carys frowned and licked her lips as she stretched her legs out again. It was as if someone had thrown a bucket of ice over her and replaced triumph and desire with the painful sting of embarrassment.

"You don't have to be rude," she whispered bitterly as she lowered her eyes, trying not to let him see how much that hurt. "If you don't like my body, I can't exactly do much about it now, can I?"

"You've lost me, I'm afraid," he said slowly, a strange edge to his tone that she couldn't quite place.

Her hackles raised as she waved a hand angrily at her legs and refused to look at him. "If part of my body's disconcerting,-"

"Disconcerting: to disturb the composure of; unsettle," he recited, cutting across her quietly. "I'm trying my hardest to allow you your retaliation, my love... Though I'm beginning to wonder if you truly understand just how difficult you're making this for me."

"Ha!" Carys shook her head as she shifted, pulling a pillow across to cover her stomach when she noticed how the tight fabric cut in at certain places. She still refused to look at him, staring at her duvet cover instead as she grabbed the edge and began to pull it down. "Maybe I should just go to sleep an-"

"Please God, no!"

Carys' eyes widened as she stared at him. Carlisle had never sounded so vehement about anything before.

"No?" She whispered quietly, pressing a hand to her chest and rubbing as her heart stuttered almost painfully.

He stood quickly and backed away from the bed, pressing his back to the wall as he stared at her in shock. Apparently she wasn't the only one who hadn't been expecting his response.

"I accept my actions were... Perhaps... Unchivalrous, the other night," he said quietly a few moments later when Carys had her breathing under control, "but this is far more torturous than anything I could be accused of-" he paused as Carys discarded the pillow and pushed herself to the edge of the bed. "-you forget that I cannot sleep - that I would suffer far more than you imagi- what are you doing?" He broke off, eyes widening as she came towards him.

She thought he looked a little frightened as she reached him and placed her hands on his chest. His muscles tensed under her touch, and his arms flexed as he clasped his hands behind his back.

"All I ask," he whispered harshly, "is that you change - anything would be okay, as long as it's not-" he waved a hand towards her as he pleaded, "-that. I'm trying my darling, but- Carys, what are you doing!?"

Carys didn't answer, simply continued to undo the buttons of his shirt, one by one. It was a good job he was wearing a cardigan instead of a jumper - it would only have got in the way.

His jaw clenched as he swallowed hard, his hands covering hers as he tugged them away from his shirt.

She frowned and tutted lightly when she was unable to break his hold.

"Would you let me go?" She asked, her body twisting as she tried to wrestle her arms free.

"No," he argued, confusion lacing his words as he refused to release her. "Not until you tell me what you're doing."

"I thought it was obvious," she huffed, meeting his gaze. "I'm trying to take your clothes off."

Carlisle stilled completely, a muscle twitching near his eye. This time she knew he wasn't breathing. "Why?" He asked finally, hauling in a deep breath.

"Because," she whispered slowly, "now that I know you want me as much as I want you, there's really no need for us both to suffer, now is there?"


That night, as they made love for the first time, - and the second and third, until she collapsed utterly exhausted in his arms after a few hours - Carys learned a new level of ecstasy that differed from any she'd experienced before. The ecstasy she imagined could only be vaguely described as what the French nicknamed La Petite Mort.

Though, she was pretty sure even that didn't really come close.

When Carlisle woke her exactly eight hours after she'd fallen asleep, his hands stroking her body to life as he turned her onto her front and whispered urgently in her ear, pressed almost desperate kisses to her face, neck and shoulder, she learned that vampires had an insatiable desire for their soulmates.

That, at least, was one vampiric quirk she was more than happy to indulge in.


I've read the guidelines, and I don't think I can do what I want to do in this chapter - so...

Is anyone else sort of laughing at Carys for thinking oh, he might actually want to sleep with me when Carlisle's like dear God, why have you forsaken me?