Author's Notes:
The chapter title says it all. Very 'M' as our young lovers give way yet again to temptation.
The characters and Twilight universe are Stephenie Meyer's. I'm just having fun...

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Edward woke after a sound sleep, for once not filled with the vivid dreams that had led to many a sticky awakening. No doubt the previous day's events had been explicit enough to last him for a while. Plus the fact that he'd beaten off three times in rapid succession after getting home, urged on by memories of Bella's head busily sucking between his legs, or images of her lovely pale ass bent over enticingly before him as he thrust himself into her repeatedly and fondled her soft breasts while she...

After another romp with his favourites he got up and took a shower. He peered at himself in the mirror. He looked a little battered, the cut lip bruised and swollen. Edward realised that he probably wasn't a virgin any more - or did you actually have to penetrate a girl to lose your virginity? He made a mental note to google it and check.

Esme tsked over his cut lip at breakfast and he had to concoct a story about tripping on the school steps and biting himself accidentally. She was kind enough to accept that, but his siblings eyed him with curiosity and disbelief. Rosalie snorted rudely into her diet cereal.

Emmett hadn't finished with him. The brothers were in the garage waiting for Alice and Rosalie to finish blow-waving their hair, and in Alice's case filling it with product. Emmett leaned back against the Volvo, grinning evilly.

"Like the trashed look bro - very hot. She's a wild one then? Is she a screamer?"

"Fuck off Emmett - and don't talk about Bella like that." Edward flushed. How dare Emmett sully his angel, his princess. Emmett knew nothing about true love or great art; his head was in the mud while Edward's soared in the stratosphere. When it wasn't worshipping his Bella that is. A memory of his head moving frantically between her parted thighs suddenly surfaced and he started to get hard again. Shit. He paced angrily around to the driver's door and got in.

Jasper slid into the passenger seat. "Leave him alone Emmett." He gave Edward a sidelong glance, smirking and slipping a handful of condoms into Edward's jacket pocket. "Better safe than sorry brother mine, if you're writing those sort of poems to her."

"Thanks Jasper - yeah, we're being careful." To avoid the poetry effect, anyway. He had every intention of kissing and touching her again today after school.

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He caught Bella in the parking lot before they went into class and kissed her gently but thoroughly, careful of his lip. School was hard to focus on, filled with thoughts of seeing her at lunch and having her to himself in his room at the end of the day.

He was already very familiar with the set text for English and his seat was down the back away from prying eyes, so he occupied himself writing another poem instead. Not to read to her of course, just to practice his poetic talents. Perhaps a sonnet, following Shakespeare's great tradition? Trying to write something that structured would be a useful challenge. Iambic pentameter: de-dum de-dum de-dum de-dum de-dum, yes, that was it.

Oh Bella, when I see your lovely face

How did the rhyming go? He looked up his poetry text and checked one of the sonnets.

ABAB CDCD EFEF GG. Right.

Oh Bella, when I see your lovely face so hot, the memory of her responding to his poem

Before me as you get so hot and wet oops, not quite in the tradition of Shakespeare - try again

Before me as you kneel between my legs no no no, it was a sonnet for fuck's sake

Before me as I tongue your glorious cunt oh fuck, too hot, hard again, want you Bella

He groaned softly. Too hard, everything was too hard. Giving in to the inevitable, Edward let the heat in his groin take over.

Oh Bella when I see you on your knees
Before me as you suck my swollen cock
You fill me with such pleasure as you tease
My aching shaft, making me hard as rock.

Sweet Jesus, he was close to coming in class just from writing poetry about Bella sucking him off. He flicked through the poetry text desperately. The "Ancient Mariner" wouldn't be nearly enough this time - wait, a really bad McGonagall poem might do it.

Oh, mighty city of New York, you are wonderful to behold--
Your buildings are magnificent-- the truth be it told--
They were the only thing that seemed to arrest my eye
Because many of them are thirteen storeys high
And as for Central Park, it is lovely to be seen--
Especially in the summer season when its shrubberies are green
And the Burns Statue is there to be seen
Surrounded by trees on the beautiful sward so green
Also Shakespeare and the immortal Sir Walter Scott
Which by Scotchmen and Englishmen will never be forgot.

It took several verses of "Jottings of New York" before he had himself under control again. Poetry was having almost as strong an effect on him as it did on Bella - mostly as he couldn't help but imagine her reaction to it.

They would be lying on his bed kissing chastely, then he would roll on top of her, holding her arms down at each side of her head (just in case she went berserk again), and he would trap her gaze and recite the sonnet in a passionate whisper. He smothered a moan, his cock straining painfully again at the thought of her response. He would need an emergency washroom stop after class so as to beat off and survive the day. Better to leave finishing the poem until much later when he was home and in less restrictive clothing.

After an urgent tryst with himself (and Bella's perfect ass) in a toilet stall, he sat with her at a table in the lunchroom, trying not to stare too obviously at her chest. They compared notes about their classes and chatted about favourite books and bands. His eyes kept being drawn to her breasts which were nicely outlined by a fitted white blouse. That part of her anatomy hadn't really featured yesterday, in the heat of the moment. He was going to have to put that omission right, and soon.

The afternoon dragged and there was no Biology to give him more time with her, so Edward was waiting eagerly by her truck at the end of the day, having told Jasper to take the Volvo. He pressed Bella against the battered metal and kissed her at some length, hard again just from the taste of her mouth and the feel of her in his arms.

Bella drove them, Edward sneaking his hand onto her thigh and brushing his thumb lightly across the groin of her jeans, teasing her until she moved against him. He knew this was not at all in line with the "cooling it" agreement, but he was so hot for her he couldn't help himself. Then at a stop light she reached over and gripped the swollen bulge between his legs, squeezing and rubbing him, and his eyes rolled up in his head as he pressed into her hand. By the time they got home he was in a daze of lust, hustling her up the stairs, thankful that the rest of the family weren't hanging about in the hall to delay them with social chit-chat or teasing.

They fell on each other after he'd locked the door to his room, his lip forgotten as he crushed her to him, their tongues frantic, writhing against each other. He pulled back to kick his shoes off and she unzipped her short boots and discarded them. Wrenching off his jacket then Bella's, Edward walked her backwards to his bed and laid her down, kissing her neck, the hollow under her ear, nuzzling her collar bone as he undid the buttons on her blouse.

And oh, her breasts in the white lacy bra. He stroked them tenderly, pressing them together and kissing her cleavage.

More, need more.

He sat her up and slid the blouse off then reached behind her to unfasten the bra, struggling with the unfamiliar hooks, panting in frustration.

She stopped him, holding his arms. "Let me do it Edward, you'll break a finger and we can't have that...I want those fingers of yours intact..." Grinning at him under her lashes.

God he loved her. He sat back on his knees and she arched her spine, making her exciting breasts stand out as he trailed his fingers across them, unable to stop touching. She reached back and unhooked the clasp effortlessly. Girls were so clever. He pulled the bra away and was immediately riveted by her round, soft breasts, the peaks flushed darker, swelling under his hands as he caressed them, nipples hardening. He slid forward urgently, pressing her to the covers, taking her nipples into his mouth, sucking and licking, completely absorbed by her taste, the softness, her helpless moans underneath him that made him burn and throb.

More.

He undid her jeans and pulled them off. Her panties were white lace as well, and he spread her legs and wriggled between them, pressing his face up into her hot center, the lacy crotch wet and heavy with her musky scent. He pressed his tongue hard against the lace, rubbing it across her clit as she thrashed, groaning. Then licking and kissing her inner thighs.

More.

Pulling off the panties, spreading her folds and oh God yes lapping at her again, so hot and rich, her taste, her scent. Gripping her hips he pulled her hard against his mouth, fucking her with his tongue, feeling her lose it, hearing the incoherent noises she made as she thrust against his mouth.

More. In her, now.

He fell off the bed, fumbling his jeans undone and pushing them and his boxers down, stumbling free and pulling off his shirt. Just barely enough reason left to remember Jasper's gift, ripping a condom from the foil and rolling it onto his stiff cock. Back on her again, pushing her legs apart with his hands, sliding his fingers into her, the wetness and heat as she moved on his fingers.

Yes, fuck yes, inside her now, More.

He took his cock and pushed it into her, panting harshly, then raised up on his elbows, watching her face. She grimaced and he felt something give way, then he was moving deep inside her, watching her head fall back, her face lovely as she gave herself over to sensation. His mouth was on her breasts again, sucking them and pulling on her nipples with his lips while she moaned and moved with him, both of them lost in the feelings now as he thrust urgently.

Yes, there, deeper, harder, more, more, More!

Fucking her desperately as he gripped her tightly, his face in her neck, in her hair, grunting helplessly, all pumping cock, all pleasure, Bella spasming around him as the world exploded.

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He peered at himself in the bathroom mirror after disposing of the condom, splashing cold water on his flushed face. Shit shit shit. He had meant to cool it, to get to know her, not fuck her brains out. God that had been wonderful though, and she made him so hot, he kept losing control. But it was not right. They had to do more than just go at it like crazed beasts. Didn't they? It didn't seem a very solid basis for a relationship although admittedly it was working extremely well right now.

But there was no way it would do in the long term. Imagine in some future life when they were grown up and had real jobs, waking up hard every morning beside her - he'd be inside her in a heartbeat, he'd never get to work at all. And what about coming home after work? Two steps inside the door and he'd have her bent over the sofa, impaled on his cock, no matter who was visiting. Hi Chief Swan, I'll just fuck your daughter like an animal then we can watch the game. He shuddered. Not a pretty thought.

Edward sighed and returned to Bella who was sprawled on his bed looking relaxed and incredibly tempting. No! Talking, not fucking! He slid onto the covers and took her in his arms, kissing her gently.

"I love you Bella. I know that sounds like my cock talking, but I really do. Ever since you arrived, I've watched you and fallen more and more in love. I'm sorry I keep losing it and going too far. Are you OK? Did I hurt you badly?" Guilt filled him as he remembered her grimace.

"Edward." she kissed him back. "I love you too. I'm fine. It only hurt a little and I hardly noticed it, I wanted you in me so badly. I'm not helping am I, with the self-control? I want you too much as well."

He smiled ruefully. "Even without the poems, we're all over each other. But it's partly because of the poetry again I guess. I couldn't resist writing a poem to you in English today, and it got me so hot thinking about how you might react that I was excited all day and then I just went at you after school...and here we are again."

"So you wrote another poem." Her voice was casual. "What sort?"

"The dangerous sort - not that any of them are safe with you." Kissing her, teasing. "The start of a sonnet, actually. But old W.S. would turn in his grave - it was very naughty indeed. I tried, I really did try to write a romantic one but it kept turning...hot on me. I didn't get past the first stanza, and even that almost made me embarrass myself in class." He sighed.

Shutting her eyes, she whispered. "I'd like to hear it - the sonnet."

He traced her lips with his fingers and she kissed them softly. "I don't think so Bella - it's very...explicit...and you know what would happen." His cock stiffened against her belly at the thought.

Still with her eyes shut, she took his finger into her mouth and sucked it. Shudders ran through him, as they had in Biology. Jesus, why did that turn him on so much?

"No Bella, you know you mustn't. I won't let you. Just say no!" Trying to talk her out of it, when his cock was hard against her, throbbing.

She pressed him back and slid onto him now, stroking his chest, playing with his nipples. His head fell back and he sighed. God that felt fantastic. Then she bit his nipple softly and he sobbed, feeling her hair silky against him, her lips on his skin. Her hand slid down the trail of dark hair at his groin and then onto his cock. Ohhhh, she was stroking him, and he pushed up into her hand, groaning.

"Bella, what are you doing to me, Oh God Bella..."

"Just one line Edward," she whispered. "Just one little line for your Bella...please baby, please!" Soft, wheedling, insistent as she touched him.

Shit, she sounded like a coke addict, but he had to resist her, to stop her from giving way, to stop himself giving way. Fuck this was confusing - who was the addict, who was the drug here? And his mind was going, melting in the sensation of her hand on his cock, her mouth on his skin.

In a last desperate attempt at sanity he pulled away from her and covered his cock with his hands. "No Bella, no. We talked about this. No poetry. Poetry's bad." It was like arguing with a two year old.

She got up on her hands and knees, glaring at him, furious. Hot, so hot when she was angry, her breasts swaying through her long brown hair as she crawled towards him. He was panting with lust but he scooted back on the king-sized bed, holding his genitals. Christ knew what she was capable of in this mood, he was taking no chances.

"I want it! You wrote it for me and I want to hear it Edward. Don't be a tease - give it to me now!"

"No Bella. Not this poem - it's too strong. You'd OD on it - you'd attack me, you'd destroy the room. My family would call the police, and you know what that means..." Raped by Bella and then shot by her enraged father. Way to go, Edward.

She collapsed onto the bed, curled up with her arms wrapped around her stomach as though she were in pain.

"Bella? Please don't do that baby, I love you." Reaching for her but she rolled away, her shoulders shaking. What? Was she crying? He had hurt her. God, he was a complete bastard.

"Bella love, oh please, please don't cry, here, let me hold you."

He spooned behind her, embracing her and stroking her arms and her stomach, rocking her, planting kisses on her shoulder.

"I need your poem Edward, I need it so bad," she moaned helplessly, tears squeezing from the corners of her eyes. "Tie me down, tie me to the bed. Anything so I can hear it."

Fucking hell, that was a thought. Would it work? He had a solid oak frame bed, raised up on sturdy legs. It would be possible to tie something around them. But what? Something soft, not to hurt her wrists and ankles. Jesus what was he thinking, no, this was so wrong, they mustn't do it - where would it end?

Then she turned to face him and took him into her arms, kissing and caressing him, her hand sliding down hot between them again, stroking his balls and taking his cock.

"Please Edward, tie me to the bed and give me poetry, oh please..."

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He used old T-shirts in the end, knotting two together where needed so they stretched to the corners and looped around the bed's thick legs. Not his best ones of course, not the Hives or BRMC ones. She lay there, spread-eagled, her hair fanned out behind her on the pillow, eyes bright.

He found the piece of paper with the poem where he'd hidden it in his English text and read it again, memorising it. This was a very stupid idea, he knew, but he was going to do what she wanted; he couldn't refuse her any longer. And he wanted it too. Returning to the bed, he knelt over her, stroking her face.

"Are you sure, Bella?"

She nodded vehemently, her mouth open, breathing rapidly. "Sure. Please Edward."

"I'll have to put my hand over your mouth if you're too loud."

"Yes, fine, Please Edward, the poem..." Almost groaning, pleading with him.

"It's just four lines, the start of a sonnet, iambic pentameter..."

"Yes yes whatever just fucking give it to me!"

Christ on a bike.

But he wanted her so much. He positioned himself between her legs, his cock sheathed in another of Jasper's condoms, the head of his cock almost inside her, pressing against her heat and wetness, ready. So tempting to slide himself into her, but he must stay coherent to say the poem. Edward leaned on one elbow, his other hand stroking her face, tracing her lips. She watched him avidly, their eyes locked.

"Oh Bella when I see you on your knees"

Her eyes closed briefly and she arched back, moaning, rubbing her clit against him. He bit back a groan.

"Before me as you suck my swollen cock"

She thrashed against the restraints, writhing against him, sucking him into her a little. So good, so hot. He forced himself to continue, breathing raggedly.

"You fill me with such pleasure as you tease"

She cried out and he covered her mouth with his hand. He was panting now, the next line a fierce harsh whisper, his hand pressed across her mouth, their eyes hot on each other, only inches apart.

"My aching shaft, making me hard as rock."

Oh Fuck Yes!

She bucked her hips hard and he was deep inside her, thrusting as she tightened around him, sucking him in, her cries muffled under his hand then under his mouth as he kissed her furiously, impossibly excited. She milked him with her cunt, making him hammer himself roughly into her, all control gone.

In In In In In - rutting her, taking her, aware only of his cock thrusting, their bodies making wet sounds, their mouths incoherent grunts.

Until she shuddered, quivering all over, clenching in waves around his cock and then falling back, limp. He groaned helplessly, pumping into her, then arched back in a silent scream as the pleasure erased him.

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Edward untied the restraints, moving slowly, feeling dazed. It wasn't easy as she'd pulled them into tight knots in her struggles. He had to use his teeth. Bella's wrists and ankles were chafed and looked a little bruised and he kissed her wrists, folding them to his chest as he held her close.

No more. They couldn't keep doing this, it was too dangerous, too weird. He stroked her hair, remembering how she'd begged and manipulated him. Not that he'd tried that hard to refuse her. Was there a 12-step program for poetry addiction? Or for Bella addiction for that matter. He didn't trust himself around her any more, and she obviously couldn't control it. He would have to be the strong one.

He felt desolate, hollowed out. It was going to be hell ignoring her with both of them still in Forks, still in the same school, the same class. But he had to.

"Bella." His voice was rough with emotion. "We can't, I can't...this has to stop. It's gone too far."

She peered up at him. "I'm sorry Edward, I won't do it again. I'll give it up, I promise I will. No more poetry. I'm on the wagon."

"You say that now, but you won't be able to stick to it if we're seeing each other. I won't be able to resist, you'll get round me somehow. We need to take a break, not see each other for a while."

"No!" She was crying now and his heart was breaking, his own eyes blurring as he held her.

But he had to give her up. It was the only way.

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End Notes:
Apologies to those of you who wanted more humor. Smut intrusions kept happening, and like Edward, I just couldn't say no. Plus a tiny bit of vague plot. Not that this story makes any real attempt to folllow Twilight properly. Accuracy no, allusions yes.