Disclaimer: Identifiable characters belong to Stephenie Meyer.
This plot and the non-canon things they do is all product of my own dementia and solely for my own amusement.


Some Tunes for this chapter:
Samba Pa Ti - Santana / Seduction - Boney James / The First Taste - Fiona Apple



Ring-riiing.

Ring-riiing.

Ring-riiing.

What the...? Oh, the phone.

"Hello?" I said, my voice still thick with sleep.

"My darling? I'm sorry if I've awakened you..." he said.

I cleared my throat and looked at the clock.

1 p.m.

"Carlisle. It's okay. I don't usually sleep this late, so I appreciate the wake-up call," I responded.

I rolled onto my back and said in a semi-flirtatious voice, "So, to what do I owe the honor of this phone call?"

Carlisle chuckled before answering in his usual alluring tone, "Ah, my darling. I haven't stopped thinking of you since that kiss last night and couldn't wait any longer to hear your voice."

Swoon.

"I haven't stopped thinking of that kiss...of you, either," I whispered.

I really wanted to kick myself for admitting to that, but something about him had my defenses down and I found it so comfortable to say exactly what I felt.

We proceeded to make a bit of flirtatious small-talk for a few minutes before discussing our rendezvous this evening. After all, he had shelled out 275,000 Euros for the pleasure of my company. What he didn't know was that in the course of the overnight hours (and after a couple of erotic dreams starring him), I had decided that I would make tonight completely worth it to him. After all, we were in the most romantic city in the world and if last night was any indication of what being with him would be like, then I had no doubts that a night in his arms would be completely worth it to me as well. Besides, I had never before been swept off my feet in this manner, by any man, and I didn't want to waste time tap dancing around this sexual tension between us. So, tonight would be it, I decided. Never one to be impulsive or make rash decisions, taking this one leap of faith with Carlisle felt right. I could trust him, couldn't I?

"Isabella, my darling, please be ready by 7 p.m. I'll have a car pick you up. A cocktail dress would be appropriate attire for dinner and then..." he instructed. The fact that he left that sentence hanging didn't go unnoticed by me, as well as the way he took control of the evening's plans without my input. But, if he was thinking what I was thinking, then the night would end with fireworks, so it didn't matter where we went, as much as where we'd end up.

"Seven is fine, Carlisle. I'll see you then," I replied before hanging up the phone.

I quickly picked up the phone again and dialed Alice's number.

"Isabella Marie Swan, there better be a perfectly good reason why you didn't call me after that party, and why I'm hearing from you almost 24 hours later?!" said the angry little pixie.

"Alice, would you forgive me if I told you that I've met my Prince Charming?" I responded with a smile in my voice.

"OH MY GOD, BELLA! Spill! Is he French? How'd you meet? What does he do? What does he look like? Oh my God, spill, woman!"

I had to take a minute to catch my breath from laughing at Alice's typical enthusiasm regarding my love-life. She's only been pushing me to go get 'em, tiger for oh...the last 8 years or so.

"Alice, breathe. Tell you what, I'll give you the entire scoop, in detail, via email later today. I've got a full day ahead of me and don't have time to answer the Alice-inquisition. But, I do need your help regarding wardrobe selection for tonight. I'm seeing Prince Charming and want everything to be extra-special," I said in a sheepish tone.

"Wait a minute...Bella! You're going to sleep with him tonight, aren't you? I knew you had a naughty little minx in you after all!" Alice exclaimed, and even without seeing her in person, I knew that she was most likely bouncing up and down in excitement.

"Okay, so what are the plans, besides the sexing, I mean," she said with a giggle.

That Alice, she always cut to the chase with things. I didn't even need to confirm or deny anything around her because she always seemed to know even before I told her.

I sighed and said, "Yes, Alice, I think tonight will be pivotal for me as I'm making a completely out of character move. But, it feels right, you know? He makes me feel comfortable, secure, beautiful, desired...okay, I'm going off on a tangent here. The point is that in addition to the plans I have for us, we're going to have dinner and he asked that I wear a cocktail dress for the date, which is why I need your help."

Alice giggled a little before she said, "Bella-dear, this is why I'm a pro at what I do. Sensing that Paris held promise for your future, I took the liberty of sending off your measurements to a couple of shops on the Champs-Élysées, so by 5 p.m. today, there will be a fabulous designer dress, shoes, and accessories awaiting in your hotel room for your date with Mr. Charming. I'm thinking that an Elie Saab would be perfect for tonight, don't you?"

"Pix, you're too much, but I knew that I could count on you to walk me through this, even if you're thousands of miles away," I replied, greatfully.

"That's what they pay me the big bucks for, honey!" She said in her usual sing-song voice. "By the way, what is the lucky guy's name?"

"Ah, his name is Carlise. Carlisle Cullen. Doctor Carlisle Cullen...and don't you go Googling him just yet! Let me enjoy my night without you giving me the third degree based off some biased information you found on Wikipedia," I said with a warning tone in my voice.

She sighed before responding, "Fine. No Googling, but I better see an email from you in my inbox within 24 hours, missy. Oh! Before I forget, did you take the stuff out of the lingerie bag yet? There are some brand new La Perla gems that I stashed in there for just in case cases," and she let off with a wicked laugh.

Not that I was surprised. For all I knew, she probably had one of those dreams of hers where she saw me in the throes of passion with my blond haired Prince Charming and figured that she'd better ship me off to France prepared.

"I don't even want to know why you chose to pack that stuff in my bag, but once again, I'm grateful that you thought of it. Anyway, I've gotta run, Ali, so I'll catch up with you later, okay? Love ya."

"Alrighty, darling. Love ya, too. Have fun!"

The day passed by in a whirlwind of more press meets and book signings, which took up the bulk of my day. By the time I made it into my hotel's lobby it was already 5:30 and I still had to shower and primp. So, in an effort to save time, I stripped off most of my clothes inside the elevator and ran towards my suite door before anyone caught sight of me, half naked. As I let myself in, I found that the room was pitch black - something that was unusual, since housekeeping always left the lights on. I reached for the light switch and gasped as I took stock of what was before me.

Every flat surface in the room was adorned with huge, stunning bouquets of Stargazer, Casablanca, and Conca D'Or lilies. My favorites.

I didn't even have to look at any of the cards in order to guess who they were from, but decided to look anyway. I grabbed the card from the closest bouquet to the door and read:


How delicious is the winning

Of a kiss at love's beginning.

-Thomas Campbell
Freedom and Love

I wasn't sure what to think. On one hand, this thing between Carlisle and I was exciting and new. On the other, it was overwhelming and fast. "Love's beginning?"

Is this where he thinks we're headed?

He did mentioned marriage last night, but I thought it was for Victoria's sake.

He couldn't possibly be considering...

Not wanting to ponder that idea any further, I decided to take a quick shower and prepare for the evening's events. As I stepped out of the shower and into my boudoir, I noticed a beautiful strapless black dress, matching shoes, and accessories hanging on a rack next to the ornate full-length mirror in the room.

Alice and her wicked ways.

I swiftly dressed (making sure to put on the lingerie that Alice had sent) and styled my hair and make-up as best as I could without the help of an actual stylist. Lucky for me that all of the years spent as Alice's fashion guinea pig had served for something, because when I took one last look at myself in the mirror, I was actually pleased with the end result. Within minutes, I was answering a call from Front Desk, announcing the arrival of Carlisle's driver, Henri, and I gingerly made my way downstairs.

To say that I was nervous was an understatement. Tonight would set the tone for the rest of my stay in Paris and possibly my not too distant future.

"Bonsoir madame," said Henri, the limo driver.

Hoping to get info out of him, I replied, "Good evening Henri, what's on the itinerary for tonight?"

He chuckled before responding in a thickly accented English, "Ah, Miss Swan, I was told to drive and reveal nothing."

"I see. Very well," I sighed and sat back to enjoy the sights as Henri drove into the night.

Before long we were stopped in front of the opulent George V again. Henri opened my door and led me towards the lobby where an incredibly handsome Carlisle stood with a single Casablanca lily in hand. He took three long strides and wrapped his arms around me tightly before softly kissing my cheek. I wrapped my arms around his neck and snuggled into his sculpted chest. It felt so right in his arms. So secure.

"My darling, you are absolutely stunning," Carlisle said as he broke the stem off the lily and tucked it into my hair, behind my ear. "This pales in comparison to your allure, but I know they're your favorite and I couldn't resist using it as a reason to touch you."

I smiled and gave him a chaste kiss on the lips in response. When I looked into his eyes they smoldered with restrained passion.

Tonight will be spectacular. I can feel it.

With his hand on the small of my back, Carlisle led me towards the hotel's elevator. Realizing where we were headed, my body froze as I looked at him questioningly. Although I was prepared to make love with him that night, I didn't believe that he'd be taking me to bed first. Sensing my sudden discomfort, he turned to face me and smiled before saying, "Dinner will be served on the balcony of my suite. It's got a lovely view of the city and it would give us the opportunity to talk in a more intimate setting." I sighed and giggled a bit in relief. There I was, assuming the worst when all he'd done was treat me with respect and admiration.

Carlisle and I made our way to the top floor, where has staying, of course, and I was immediately awestruck as we entered the suite. It was gorgeous and refined and luxurious. There was even a baby grand piano in the middle of the room.

"Do you play?" I asked as I watched Carlisle open a bottle of wine for us.

"Only a little bit. My life is too hectic to really make time for it," he replied, simply as he handed me a glass of wine and led me towards the balcony. If I had been awestruck by the beauty of the room, it paled in comparison to the view from the balcony. It had a gorgeous panoramic view of the city and featured a direct view of the Eiffel Tower. At night, all of the city's lights twinkled and you could practically feel the romance in the air.

It was absolutely perfect.

Carlisle and I ate dinner and chatted about a multitude of things in complete comfort and familiarity. There were no awkward silences. In fact, Carlisle was charming and enigmatic and the conversation simply flowed as if we'd known each other all our lives. On several occasions he'd stop talking long enough to reach across the table and cup my cheek or kiss my hand as his eyes burned into me and it was during those moments where I sensed the romantic note that lingered between us. I felt it in his touches and in his stare. But much more than that, I felt the unspoken seduction that was tearing down my defenses and making me feel completely wanted.

Once dinner had been cleared, Carlisle announced that it was "late enough" to head to our next destination. Honestly, after the amazing couple of hours that we had spent on the balcony, I secretly hoped that our night would simply continue inside his suite. However, I put a smile on my face as we made our way out to the limo in each other's arms.

We reached our destination shortly thereafter and it was then that I realized what our destination was. We were parked in front of the Louvre Museum. Carlisle stepped out of the car first and took my hand. Once out of the vehicle, I looked around and noticed that there weren't any people entering the museum, only passers-by walking towards other destinations.

Carlisle laced his fingers with mine and led the way towards the museum's doors.

"Carlisle, the museum...it looks like it's already closed," I said.

He turned to me with his typical wicked grin and said, "It is. However, I pulled a few strings and we get to have a private, after-hours tour."

Whoa. The Louvre all to ourselves, without the throngs of pushy tourists. Amazing.

I minored in Art History in college, so this was indeed a treat.

Carlisle and I walked through all of the museum's corridors admiring and discussing all of the different pieces. We even had a healthy debate about the true identity of the lady in the Mona Lisa portrait. Of course, we also sneaked in a few passionate kisses and embraces in between. I had no idea how this night could get any better - well, actually, I could - but so far, it seemed as if Carlisle instinctively knew just how to make me feel happy.

After our private Louvre tour ended, we hopped back into the limo. Once Carlisle gave Henri the name of what I assumed was our next stop, he raised the partition between ourselves and the driver and we resumed our very intense kissing. It was indeed a hot make-out session and Carlisle completely delivered. He was equal parts sexy and rough as well as playful and sweet, and by the time we reached our destination, I was panting for breath and dying to get naked with him. But alas, there was more date stuff to be done. Besides, I really had to deliver a PG rated report for my blog's fans, so it was in fact important that most of what took place on this charity auction date was something I could tell others about without crossing into X-rated territory.

I sighed in contemplation as we made our way out of the limousine and towards what looked like a typical Parisian café. The sign outside read Chocolat.

Once inside, I took in the decor of the place and realized that it was some sort of dance club with a stage, a bar, and scattered furnishings like sofas, tables, and chairs. It wasn't a typical disco, full of loud, obnoxious booty-shaking music, but instead was an understated, yet luxurious little hole in the the wall. Judging by the dark, rich earth tones and dim lights, I got the impression that this was a place which people flocked to more so for the ambiance than for the hook-up potential.

Carlisle wrapped one arm around my waist as he led me towards the mâitre-d's podium. A tall, attractive man with ebony skin greeted Carlisle in French with much familiarity as he led us to a table on a second story balcony inside the club. The entire area was covered by sheer red curtains and tea lights adorned all of the surrounding walls. There were also two sofas flanking each side of the table, and although the stage could be seen even from there, it was evident that the area had been set up to be very private.

Intimate, even. Much could go on here and no one would know.

We sat on one of the sofas and watched as a band set up for what I assumed would be a live show.

"What sort of place is this, Carlisle?" I quietly inquired.

"This is a private jazz club, Isabella. Only card holding members are allowed," he replied. "They cater to an upscale clientele who come here to wind down, away from prying eyes and the paparazzi, mostly."

As soon as he finished his sentence, the music started to play. I instantly recognized it, as it was one of my mom's favorites which she always played when she was in a particular mood. I was a kid back then and didn't get her reasons for practically playing that song to death, but sitting here in this dark, secluded club with a ridiculously handsome man beside me - who was placing soft kisses on my neck and shoulders - I suddenly got it. I so got it.

I smirked as I thought of all the things we could be doing while this song played in the background, and just as I did, Carlisle glanced at me and grinned ever so wickedly. There were no words exchanged, but the intensity of his stare echoed all of the things that my mind was running wild with.

As the next song began to play, Carlisle stood before me and held his hand out.

"Dance with me, my darling." he said.

I grabbed hold of his hand and jumped to my feet. Carlisle pulled me into his body tightly before gently grabbing hold of my shoulders and turning me so that my back was flush with his chest. His hands then traveled slowly down the length of my arms before settling on my hips. I could feel his own hips (and prominent erection) grinding into my behind as the music played. He slowly rolled my hips with his hands until we were both grinding to the beat of the music and I couldn't help but find it erotic and sensual, especially in that dark room, surrounded by all those candles. At one point, he wrapped one arm around my waist while keeping the other on my hip and I could feel his fingers digging into my skin, as if he was attempting to get more friction, making me feel desperate to turn around and continue our dance face to face, chest to chest. Every nerve ending on my body was tuned in to his every movement, especially as he ignited the bare skin of my neck and shoulders with small butterfly kisses, making me weak with desire.

Although there was no deliberate groping between us, this dirty little dance of ours was without a doubt a mating call that I desperately wanted to answer as the flow of my arousal pooled between my legs. Each time that his hips rolled into my behind, I wanted to moan in delight, imagining his hips rolling into me elsewhere. In order to keep my legs from giving out from the lust-induced weakness that my body felt, I reached both of my arms back and locked them behind his neck as we danced to song after sexy song. Sometimes he'd whisper things in my ear and run his tongue lightly over it. Other times, he'd run his hands gently down the length of my outstretched arms and down the sides of my breasts until they'd rest again at my hips where he would grind harder into me.

I had never before felt so much lust for a man as I did at that moment and it was beyond evident that he desired me just as much. Truthfully, it was starting to become painful to continue this game without some sort of release and I silently prayed that he too would be feeling the need to head back to his hotel, pronto.

Carlisle leaned into my neck and brushed his lips across my jaw until he stopped right at my ear and whispered between ragged breaths, " Isabella...my darling...you're driving me crazy."

All I could think of at that moment was the two of us doing this same dance while naked in Carlisle's suite. I could picture him caressing my breasts from behind as he continuously ground his erection into my bare ass with his tongue licking over the sweet spot behind my ear.

Eventually, we reached a point during our dance-slash-foreplay where I could no longer hold in my desire for him, so I turned around, grabbed his shirt's collar and crashed my lips into his. I simply had to taste him. I nipped his plump bottom lip several times before slowly licking my way across it. Then, with the tip of my tongue, I lightly licked the Cupid's Bow on his top lip before he abruptly pulled back and looked into my eyes. There was definitely a fire raging within them. Without a word said between us, Carlisle's kissed me hungrily as he carried me over to one of the sofas and practically throwing me on it. He stood before me, panting for breath, and I watched as the expression on his face changed to one of animalistic desire.

I wanted this; I wanted it so badly, and I wanted it with him. I laid on the sofa seductively as he continued to stand before me and seduce me with his stare. He didn't move an inch. He just stared as if he could tear my clothes off with his eyes alone.

"Isabella...I want...I don't think..." he said in a guttural voice. "I don't think that I could continue being a gentleman with you tonight, wanting..."

Armed with a sudden rush of self-confidence, I put the bait our there for him. "Tell me what you want, Carlisle. Tell me...please. I'm full of want too." I replied in a breathless voice.

Suddenly, he hissed and his arms were around me. His lips burned mine with a searing kiss that felt like the answer to my prayers.

Seconds later, I was being pulled out of my seat, practically carried down the stairs, and out into the cold Parisian night. Luckily, Henri was parked right in front of the club, so he quickly jumped from where he sat and rushed to open our door.

"Thank you, Henri. Home please," was all Carlisle said as we made our way into the limousine.

We sat inside quietly, without looking at each other for a couple of minutes before Carlisle turned to look at me and spoke again.

"Isabella, my darling, do you...want...this?" he said almost hesitantly. "I need to know if I'm overstepping my bounds with you. I don't want-"

I placed 2 fingers over his lips and looked him in the eye so he could see no doubt in me as I said, "Yes, Carlisle. I want you. More than I've ever desired another man."

And that was the beginning of the most amazing night, ever.


Chapter End Notes:

Sorry about the sorta-cliffy ending there, since I did promise sexing to my Twilighted peeps. I had intended on giving you all of the night's events in one chapter, but it would've turned out to be a 20 pager by the time I was done giving you the Full Monty. But never fear, I've already started the next chapter and hope to have it out shortly. 'Kay? Are we good? Well, we will be, once you get some Carlisle/Bella lemon, I'm sure. ;-)

Review, s'il vous plaît? And merci!