Just a Dream
Bella was staying at the Cullens', in Edward's room whilst most of the family was out hunting. Supposedly for her protection, just in case Victoria decided to show up, but Bella knew it was really because Edward couldn't stomach the thought of her staying with Jacob in La Push. He was really getting on her nerves; at first she had been kind of touched that he was so jealously protective of her, but then it just started getting annoying. Alice kidnapping her, Jasper and Emmet babysitting her; Esme and Carlisle shooting pitying glances her way, when they thought she wasn't looking. It really was the final straw. Bella snorted at the thoughts zipping through her mind. If only Edward could hear her thoughts…..
At least Carlisle and Esme were sympathetic. She was at home with Carlisle tonight, Esme having left to hunt with the others. To try to help her relax and make the evening even a smidgen enjoyable for her, Carlisle had suggested they watch a movie. At that Bella had smiled wickedly and, seeing as it was Halloween, picked out Dracula. Carlisle had rolled his eyes, grimacing.
"Emmett! I didn't even know we had this," he had growled, Emmett's name spoken like an expletive, since we both guessed the DVD belonged to Emmet, but there had been a chuckle in there too. So Bella reclined languidly on one of the long, white sofas watching the 1979 version, as Frank Langella seduced the hapless Lucy into becoming his bride. That was another thing that had Bella annoyed; Edward's staunch resistance to sleeping with her. Gimme Dracula any day, she thought as her gaze left the figures on the big widescreen, resting on Carlisle, sitting in all his golden splendour in an armchair, determinedly reading some papers. Ignoring the vampiric farce that was the movie she had picked. Huffing, Bella turned back to the movie and let herself get carried away into fantasy.
Carlisle watched Bella from the corner of his peripheral vision, smiling to himself at her impatient huff. Onscreen, Dracula was being repelled by a cross. Carlisle rolled his eyes at the silly myth being enacted before him. All thanks to his dear old friend Marcus of course. He sure had a lot to answer for. A sudden change in Bella's breathing had him turning in his seat. The cadence had changed, slowing into a deep, even tempo. Her eyes were closed; she was asleep. A lock of her long brown hair had fallen over her eyes. In front of them the movie played on, ignored, as Carlisle uncrossed his long legs, placed his papers down, and walked over to Bella. A tender expression crossed his face, as he hunkered down beside her, tucked the strand of hair behind her ear and smiled. She shifted and sighed.
"Carlisle…."
He tensed, but Bella didn't speak again. After a few moments, he sighed to himself and carefully manoeuvred her into his arms, carrying her gently up to Edward's bedroom.
"Come on you, time for bed, I think," he said, whilst tucking her head into the hollow of his collarbone. He felt the usual flare of heat from her weight, but ignored it, smiling down at her in a fatherly way, his eyes sparkling with something so much more. Bella didn't see; she was dreaming.
Bella stared at herself in the mirror, her expression aghast. What the hell? She thought, I've been watching too many gothic movies.
She was dressed in a long black silk nightgown, moulding to her body. Her long hair was down, tumbling over her shoulders in a stylish mess of mahogany waves. She wore red lipstick and dark eyeshadow, rendering her dark and seductive looking. Bella mentally rolled her eyes, expecting her reflection to do the same. But to her surprise and growing unease it didn't. It seemed in this dream, she was a spectator in this body. She seemed to be waiting for something, or someone. Bella took in her surroundings. With a shock, she recognised Edward's pale walls, bare but for the glimmering of candlelight.
She was in Edward's room then. All round her the room was bare but for candelabras and black silk hangings on the walls. In fact the room was filled with candles. In the mirror Bella noticed Edward's long sofa had been replaced by a great four-poster bed, piled high with gold tasselled cushions and red silk covers. Bella mentally gulped. The large bay windows that opened out into nothingness were open, the white drapes streaming in the night breeze. It smelled of honeysuckle and cinnamon. The breeze suddenly strengthened, and Bella's breath hitched, her eyes going wide with trepidation.
A whooshing sound came from behind her, as though a bird were gliding towards the open windows. But she knew who it would be; she'd had similar dreams when she'd first worked out Edward was a vampire. Footsteps sounded; someone stepping into the room from outside. Bella waited to see Edward's reflection in the mirror, but there was none. The room was empty behind her. But she could hear Edward breathing, feel Edward's gaze on her body. She spoke, without meaning to.
"I knew you would come for me," Bella whispered. But in her mind, she was confused. She hadn't wanted to say that, hadn't meant to say that, so why did she? It was if her body was following some predetermined script. Slowly Bella's body turned, without conscious thought or desire. But she was in for a shock; it wasn't Edward, standing in front of the open windows, dressed in a Dracula-esque cape, old fashioned billowy shirt and black coat, complete with polished shoes and black trousers. It was Carlisle.
Carlisle, her mind shouted in surprise and denial. But it should have been Edward, she was in love with him! But as she slowly glided towards him, and he towards her, and she saw the flash of desire in his honey-gold eyes, she couldn't deny that the black clothes and his gold hair together was incredibly striking. And the flame in those eyes was making her feel weak.
As they reached each other, Carlisle, still unspeaking, took her hand. He held her inner wrist to his face, and inhaled. Her pulse beat wildly in response. I must be blushing by now, Bella thought shamefacedly. Carlisle's eyes flicked back to hers, enthralling her mind, as he planted a kiss on her wrist, on the pulse point. Bella mentally gasped when she felt the touch of sharp, elongated canines on her skin. Hang on! She thought suddenly, vampires don't have fangs, they don't wear fricking opera capes and they do have reflections. Bella's inner voice groaned, still enthralled by those eyes, I really have been watching too many Dracula movies. Alice would probably have a field day if she saw Carlisle in this getup.
The physical shock of his warm tongue grazing her pulse point was enough for Bella to snap out of her trance. She suddenly discovered she had full control of her dream body again. But too little too late.
"You smell incredible, Isabella," Carlisle whispered, his deep voice as he said her full name sent shivers down her spine. Usually she didn't like anyone, not even Edward using her full name, but coming from Carlisle's lips it sounded so…sensual. He pulled her closer, into his arms, and before Bella could so much as blink, he was kissing her forcefully, leaving no room for thought. And she was kissing him back, with an ardour she would never have dared with Edward. Their tongues duelled heatedly, as Carlisle's caped arms came around her back, holding her even closer to him, until there was no gap between their bodies. Bella's hands glided into his hair, revelling in the silk beneath her palms. Eventually Bella had to breathe, and Carlisle released her mouth, his hand sweeping down seductively to her waist. Bella's eyes fluttered closed for a moment, working up the strength to push him away. To wake up, much as she didn't want to.
"Carlisle, we can't" she finally managed to whisper, her lips still against his. Her breasts heaved against his chest, pressed tight to his body. His lips quirked; and he replied in a husky whisper.
"We can. It's just a dream. And in dreams you-"
"Can do anything you want," Bella finished for him.
"Exactly," another quirk of his perfect lips. All thoughts of Esme, Edward, Alice and her premonitions disappeared, as Bella pressed her lips back to his. The contact ripped away a veil in her mind; how long had she denied that she had wanted this, for so long? Dismissed it as an impossible dream? But she still loved Edward.
Carlisle's hands left her body, for one moment, and so did his lips. Bella opened her eyes, to gaze into his, chocolate to gold. With a quick flick of his hands, he removed his cloak, and lifted Bella effortlessly into his arms. Still trapped in his liquid gaze, Bella barely noticed him carrying her towards the luxurious bed.
In the real world, Carlisle gently laid Bella down on the bed in Edward's room. He pulled the duvet over her, and sat down on the side, just staring at her. She shifted again and sighed his name. He wondered what she was dreaming about.
Carlisle laid Bella on top of the silky red sheets, hands trailing down her body. She arched against the sensual ripples he was evoking, her spine melting like wax before the flame. Her deep brunette hair was splayed over the bed, in a chocolate halo around her head. The candlelight glimmered off her marble skin, almost as pale as Carlisle's. Lust glittered in her eyes. Oh well, if I'm just having a dream no point in spoiling it. It's not like Edward will be able to pluck it out of my head, Bella thought dazedly, as Carlisle stood in front of her, staring down at her.
Slowly, achingly so, Carlisle removed his black jacket, the garment falling to the ground with a silent swish of fabric. Bella couldn't help but figuratively roll her eyes. She really had been overdoing it on the vampire movies. But then Carlisle laid down beside her, and all thought fled from her mind, as he half rolled on top of her, one strong hand resting beside her face, the other sliding between her spine and the bedcovers. Pulling her up against him. Bella shivered, as his face lowered towards her body.
"I need your blood. I need….." he whispered yearningly. Bella shivered again, her mind scoffing. Definitely too much Dracula!
But once again independent thought vanished when Carlisle's cold, hard lips made contact with her silk clad skin. Bella tensed, and began to writhe beneath him, as he trailed his mouth down her midriff and back up it, lingering on her breast and neck, particularly at the pulse point. Bella blinked at the ceiling, trying to focus, trying to think. When had physical contact become so all-consuming?
It felt like fires had been lit beneath her skin. Edward had kissed her neck before, as well as her hand and her wrist, but it hadn't felt like this. Pull yourself together girl! She shouted at herself, it's only a dream! But then his lips found hers again, and Bella floundered under his kiss, relishing her ravishment. It truly was a ravishment; nothing else could make her feel so wanted, so desired. Could Carlisle truly feel like this about her? Hang on, hang on, she reminded herself again, it's only a dream, not real life. You're in love with Edward, not Carlisle. Or was she?
"Stop thinking. Just stop resisting me," Carlisle's smooth baritone sounded in her ear, his sweet but cold breath disturbing the hairs on the side of her neck. Bella complied with the command, unable to fight. As his lips returned to hers, she twined her arms around his neck, hands exploring the linen covered muscles of his back. She swept them down and around to his chest, caressing the wide muscles bands, stone skin flickering under her touch. He broke off from her mouth, to fix glittering gold eyes on hers. His breathing was as ragged as her own; the short, jerky breaths intermingling with hers, his intoxicatingly sweet breath befuddling her willing senses.
"Please…let me see you," she pleaded in a cracked, yearning whisper. She tugged demonstrably at his shirt, loosened at the front so she caught a tantalizing view of his god's body. She wanted more, desperately. If this one night, this one dream was all she had, she wanted it all.
"Bella?" Carlisle asked, a worried frown in his eyes. Bella was shifting and crying out in her sleep, crying his name over and over again. The worry was excruciating. What the hell was she dreaming about, that she was constantly crying his name? And why in such a tone of yearning? It was driving him insane. "Bella?"
When she didn't respond to his call, he sighed, and tucked back the strand of hair that was constantly falling over her face. That's when she whispered, "Please…let me see you,"
Carlisle froze. What the hell was she dreaming about?
Bella frantically undid the buttons of Carlisle's shirt, before finally getting her hands on his bare torso. It was like the finest silk over the hardest granite. Touching it was almost addictive. His hand glided down her thigh, caressing her skin through the black silk, and Bella's breath hitched. Her skin was on fire. Desperate, she pushed his shirt over his shoulders, as his lips left hers to kiss ardently at the hollow at the base of her throat. Bella's eyes rolled back into her head, and she arched her neck, imploring him, begging him to never stop. Nothing else in the world mattered except that his lips didn't leave her skin. Nothing whatsoever.
Carlisle's arms twined around her waist, holding her against him, as Bella slumped back, partially supported by his hold on her. The kisses at her throat had only become more hungry, more frantic as though he couldn't devour her skin fast enough. Which he probably did, he was a vampire after all, albeit an exceedingly controlled one, with willpower wrought of steel. Bella gasped, and bit her lip, her arms flung out above her head, fingers intertwining in the ruffled strands of her hair. And that's when, after his lips left her neck to kiss her so tenderly, so gently after the fiery, passionate kisses that had left her lips swollen, that Bella couldn't help but wonder what was coming next, hard canines pressed against her carotid artery.
"Hang on, hang on. Whoa there tiger!" Bella gasped. Carlisle chuckled, and raised his head, a question very clear in his eyes. "A, vampires don't have fangs full stop, and B what the hell are you doing?"
"This is your dream, Bella. You really should lay off on the Dracula movies," Carlisle shrugged. Bella glared at him, her body limp to the sweetest, most torturing heat.
"That's rich coming from my own subconscious," she snorted. Carlisle raised himself over her, recapturing her mouth in a storm of passion. Bella melted, unable to resist him. Oh God, if only this was real, she thought, beyond wondering about her true feelings for him, and for Edward. Their tongues rejoined, and Bella shifted beneath him, suddenly yearning for his mouth on her pulse. Carlisle broke from her lips again, to run his lips down the side of her neck, until he reached her artery again. Breathless, Bella lay back and waited, suddenly desperate to feel Carlisle's teeth sliding into her flesh. Even with the pain to come, she wanted nothing more, in that moment.
"Carlisle, please. Take my blood," Bella whispered in her sleep. Carlisle leant over her, unable to keep his distance. In a minute he was going to shake her awake and demand that she explain herself. The fact that she felt something for someone other than Edward should have made him angry, or at least a little disapproving. But the way she said his name just sent shivers through his stone heart.
The moment, when it came, was not what Bella had expected. There was no pain, only pleasure as his teeth glided into her skin with an almost sensual quality. Bella arched her spine, responding to the pressure of his hands beneath her waist, pulling her up. His bare chest pressed against her silk clad breasts, setting her skin alight. Bella was not even aware that blood was leaving her body. This was not the painful conversion Carlisle, Edward and the others had warned her of, but the pleasurable, almost sexual experience only seen in the movies. Damn bloody Hollywood! The pleasure increased, like a burgeoning ache blossoming within her body. She arched her neck back, giving Carlisle better access to the soft skin of her neck. Her eyes left his form to go to the mirror on the opposite wall. Transfixed by the image of her lying upon the bed, legs bent, hair rippling over the covers, arms slung above her head, lips swollen and rosy. Carlisle she couldn't see at all.
Carlisle withdrew his teeth from her neck, and Bella felt a moan well up, a moan of entreaty. She wanted his touch, his kiss, his bite. Blood dripped from the corner of his lips, as well as from the puncture marks on her neck. Carlisle's hand left her waist to tip her chin back to him, Bella's eyes following reluctantly. They met his still butterscotch ones, and she felt as though she would spontaneously combust.
"Please…?" she whispered yearningly. Carlisle kissed her heatedly, hungrily taking her mouth, seducing her beyond recall. Bella gave in readily, wanting more, never wanting to wake up. But Carlisle soon broke off the kiss, as Bella became aware of someone calling her name.
"Adieu, my love. Parting is such sweet sorrow, my sweet Isabella," Carlisle whispered against her lips. Bella clutched at him, but he was gone. She gasped…
"BELLA!" Carlisle all but shouted her name, watching her moaning form in the bed. Bella awoke with a gasp, opening her eyes to find Carlisle barely a foot away from her, leaning over her prone form. Then she remembered the dream. And blushed, big time.
"It was just a dream," she whispered to herself, as though giving herself a pep talk. Carlisle frowned, still unmoving. "Carlisle? What are you doing here?"
"Rather hard to stay away, considering how you kept moaning my name. Care to explain that?" he asked, one perfect eyebrow raised.
Bella felt her blush deepen. She must have been talking in her sleep again; how much had she given away? A lot judging by the expression in Carlisle's golden eyes. Still feeling the aftermath of her dream, Bella had to shut her eyes with him so close. She truly couldn't think with him so near.
"I'm sorry, Carlisle. You shouldn't have had to hear that," Bella whispered.
"What the hell were you dreaming about, Bella?" he asked. Bella just looked at him. Her look clearly said: that's for me to know and you never to find out. He sighed. He shifted so he was sitting beside her on the bed, rather than leaning over her. He really didn't need Edward coming in and seeing them like that; it was going to be hard to conceal the night's events as it was.
Bella sat up, brushing her hair from her face. And noticed the tiny rivulet of blood running from a cut on her lower lip. She touched it wonderingly. I must have bitten my lip, during my dream ramblings….
Memories of the dream filled her, warming her, making her blush.
"It was only a dream," she told herself firmly, forgetting the stone-like figure sitting beside her. His hand brushed her cheek, and Bella jumped. She turned to face him, and noticed his expression.
His beautiful gold eyes were burning, with an inextinguishable flame. Bella shivered.
"Isabella…." Carlisle whispered against her lips, before he kissed her. And it was exactly like the dream Carlisle's kiss. Again Bella found she didn't mind Carlisle calling her by her full name. Not when he was kissing her like this, like her dream Carlisle. Just as passionate, just as intoxicating, just as urgent. She could feel his tongue tracing the cut on her lip, and the thought sent a shiver down her spine. Edward disappeared from her thoughts. She opened her mouth and sank against him. He took her in his arms, moaning slightly at the feel of her soft body pressed against his. At the heated blood simmering in her veins. He buried one hand in her hair, whilst with the other he tumbled her back onto the pillows, all sanity gone from his mind. Bella responded, arching into his arms, begging for more. But then they heard the sound of tyres outside on the gravel of the driveway. Slowly Carlisle's lips left hers, and they stared at one another.
"Edward," Carlisle said.
"Esme," Bella sighed. With one nod, they silently agreed to never discuss this, or to acknowledge the desire running through their veins. They belonged to other people.
It was just an impossible dream.