You may or may not want to read the next two chapters in a public place. Just sayin'…
Chapter Eighteen
It took his breath away.
The feeling was relentless, the way it captured his heart and squeezed it into a shroud of tension.
This can't be happening.
But it was. Oh, it was.
"Edward, what are you doing? Move out of-"
Isabella's body had bumped into the back of Edward's frame, startling her at the door of the conference room. Whoever said his body wasn't molded like a Greek statue was a liar, but right now, it was not meant to be positive characteristic.
She could feel the fear radiate off of him, his presence becoming colder and more ruthless as she watched his teeth grit.
"Edward!" The squeaky voice shouted, jumping up to give him a hug.
Shit. Isabella mentally face palmed herself.
Edward's source of anger and confusion had come from Alice Brandon, the new whore in which Isabella had "forgotten" to mention.
His instinct was to run. Turn around, take the long flight into the elevator back to the level floor, and chase Harry down the street to take him home.
His world was spinning around him. Work was no longer a safe place to be. Not with Alice here. Not with her combining both his career and his personal life into a vicious stew, seasoned with regret and failure.
Isabella tugged Edward on his collared shirt. He turned around, his expression full of dismay.
Everything in her eyes told him the tale of her deceit.
"You knew!" he growled hastily. "You knew she would be here!"
"Edward, I-" her apologies were null and void, filled with the consequences of her actions.
"How could you? She…she…" he stumbled over his words, unable to give her a reasonable explanation.
He didn't know who he was angrier with. Isabella for her deception, or Alice for hers. She didn't need this fucking job. She didn't have mouths to feed, or worry about bills that needed to be paid.
"What are you doing here, Alice?" Edward seethed, his jaw taut.
"We're work buddies now!" Alice squealed excitingly.
"But why?"
"I need the extra cash. These tits aren't going to pay for themselves, you know," she clarified with a shrug.
Everyone else in the conference room was already seated, curiously watching their conversation unfold like an interesting soap opera.
Edward would deal with Alice another time, but right now, Isabella was on his radar. He grabbed her hastily by the arm, tugging her into the nearest room.
He slammed the door shut, only the glow of the copier illuminating the dark, small area.
"Is this how you conduct your business? Letting rich little college girls become your whore? Did you not notice she already has almost as much money as you? And why didn't you tell me? You must have known we knew each other!" Edward's sardonic bite gripped Isabella tightly. He had never been so callous with her.
"I did. I knew from your employee file, but I just wanted to-"
"I am NOT your charity case! You do not owe me anything! Is this what this week is about? You paying me extra to 'help me out?' I don't need your money, Isabella. What I need from you is to get her out of here. Do you know what will happen if my family finds out I'm whoring myself out? If the public or media finds out? The Cyllen family will be done for! And we have suffered enough!" Edward's anger was rising to new heights, each staircase moving towards bitter memories of hurt.
"You listen here, I have helped you because yes, you do need me!" she insisted. "You need to swallow your fucking pride and be grateful you have people who want to help. Instead, you just push me away. You want Alice gone, fine. She's gone. I never meant for this to interfere with your private life- it never even crossed my mind. But don't you stand here and tell me you don't need me. You'd be lying and we both know it!"
Their eyes locked together, the acid practically pouring out of their sockets. Isabella was irritated at Edward's overreaction, and Edward was livid at her lack of understanding.
Isabella took a step back from Edward's fuming gaze, accidentally hitting a button on the copier. She gasped in shock, her mouth gaping slightly opened, hoping she didn't ruin anything on the expensive machine.
The vivid flush of Isabella's face caused Edward's cock to pulse, and the twinge of anger he felt towards her darkened into sexual tension.
He crashed his lips against hers, and the whistle of her breath escaped just in time. This was their only means of communication; for they could never hold a decent conversation on their own.
Instead, her pussy heated to the temperature of the hot copier machine, and Edward thrust his hips against her lower body. She could no longer fight the will within her, no longer relinquish the stronghold he had on her core.
Their hands and mouth fought against gravity, the air within the room dampened by the dew of their frenzied passion.
Edward lifted up the top latch of the copier, revealing the clear glass. Elevating Isabella by her waist, he perched her on the device, his elbow pushing several buttons in his fervor to taste every inch of her.
Together, their clothes were shed, only the rough sounds of their labored breathing combating the sheets of copies that printed to their right side.
The abyss of Isabella's salvation fell beneath her feet, as their waists met.
It was not here, not in his arms, not when his body was pushed against hers so securely that she could not breathe.
There was no redemption lurking in his aroma of sweat and lust.
She could not be saved.
But death? It would come in many forms. It was only when her mouth reached his cock that she discovered heaven did not exist.
Welcome to my sexual purgatory, she thought.
"You can't keep doing this to me," Edward snarled under the layer of lust that consumed him. He pulled her mouth off with a swiftness neither one prepared for.
"You can't keep doing this to yourself," Isabella retorted, but neither of them stopped their movements. His fingertips drowned in her waves of hair, pulling and tugging as his teeth nipped her collarbone. The moans that she whimpered made his cock throb.
He aligned himself upward, so that their bodies would meet, but Isabella pressed her hands against his chest.
"Lick it," she demanded.
"Lick the pussy that owns you."
"Damn it, woman," Edward groaned, complying by spreading her legs apart onto his shoulders. His tongue penetrated her wet heat, as he palmed the flesh of her ass.
It took all of Isabella's resolve not to scream out, as he drank of her dripping pussy. She writhed under the plunge of his tongue. He suctioned the clit of her sex, circling around it, then repeating his motions until the rigid bundle of tension lit her like a live wire. He teased her relentlessly, circling her aching center with the tiny flicks of his tongue.
Tossing her head back, so that the locks of hair edged the machine, she bucked her hips. Edward claimed her body, inserting two fingers inside as she exploded around him with a trembling cry.
He refused to move, licking every drop of her sweet release and placed a tender kiss between her folds.
She had yet to have a single moment of reprieve, but it was her own body who denied it to herself. Grasping Edward's hair between her fingers, she lifted his torso, staring at his naked muscles and physical splendor. His cock stood erect, practically demanding her attention.
She held onto his shoulders with her legs still upright in the air. Their mouths collided once more; fantasy reflecting reality, desire emulating passion. Tongues battled for dominance, entrapping one another from movement.
Supporting both of their weight, Edward steered his cock into her wet channel, breaching the layer of exasperation and fury.
"Please." It was the only request she dared to beg, and she sucked in a breath as he drove into her, rocking forward inch by inch. Every time with her was like invading new territory, the muscles of her sex wrapping around him, squeezing him like no other.
A shudder raced through her backbone, and Isabella glanced down at the merging of their core. Edward continued to plunge his long length into her walls, attempting to get rid of the erotic torture she had on his sanity.
His arm muscles rippled as he pumped into her, her fingernails digging into his sweaty flesh.
"Take it," he ordered in a rough voice. Her bare breasts heaved and he grasped her ass tighter. Using the angle for leverage, he surged forward, the machine constantly beeping and soon, darkened papers were floating to the ground.
Isabella rolled her hips to meet his, arching her curves as he bended her to his will. His pelvis rubbed against her clit, repeating a torturous grind.
She panted, and when she grabbed his hair harder, he fucked her until the machine rocked against the wall. Copies of their rendezvous hovered around them like snowfall. They seared their ending with a smoldering kiss, and her walls contracted around his cock.
He couldn't even apologize for the way he came into her, his own orgasm faintly heard as they nestled into each other's shoulders.
Neither party even heard the panting of the individual next door.
*yells into microphone and taps it loudly* Helllooooo, are you horny lil readers still with me?