My dear dears! Welcome back! Sorry it's been awhile since I posted - RL has been a beeeotch lately, but alas, I am triumphant! Hence this post. :) Thanks for sticking with me, guys!
I'll catch up with you at the end! You guys have waited long enough for this chapter.
Disclaimer #2: Stephanie Meyer owns everything except my plot twists, pervy Carlisle's dirty thoughts, and incredibly twat-numbing sexual frustration. Well, she owns a little of that herself, but not in this story… Thanks for the jumping off point, Stephanie! You made him Carlisle, I made him tortured and horny. LOVE!
O.O
Chapter 5: Panic, but no Disco
O.O
The idea that Alice had seen what I had done and why consumed my thoughts night and day. I had lived a moral life – on the "straight and narrow," Jasper had joked in his drawl so often – for so long that I couldn't remember ever feeling a guilt of this magnitude. I had been struggling to deal with the guilt of the thoughts I had about Bella, then the additional level of shame that was added when I started my experimentation.
I reasoned myself out of fretting over what the others might have felt if they truly knew what I'd been doing - pushed it away - because the driving force behind my charts, graphs, statistics, and marathon wanking to erotic film was to come up with a solution to the all-consuming desire to take and take and take her.
The proof of this was that I couldn't even bring myself to call it porn; I excused it away as "erotic fiction."
I was pathetic.
The masturbatory worship at the alter of the scarf that donned her scent, however, was a shame out of which I could not reason my way. Add to that the fact that Alice must have seen me chasing my relief before it had happened – in all its sickeningly sticky glory – made me panic. I couldn't be sure that what she had seen was exactly…well, all of it, as I hadn't consciously made any decisions before she zoned out, but I couldn't deny that possibility, either.
The next few days were slightly awkward between Alice and I. More on my part than hers. Edward sensed my unease, but seemed to read nothing in her mind that might give me away. Honestly, Alice seemed completely unaffected in a way almost unnatural to the situation. I didn't know whether to approach her or to feign nothing happened, so I chose the coward's route and moved on from that day with as much calm and unchanged demeanor as I could muster.
Jasper's intermittent sideways glances, though, were hard to explain away. They weren't intense or confused, but rather radiated surprise. I wasn't sure if he was surprised because he was sensing me feeling nervous or shameful, or if my ability to disguise my feelings superseded my perception, and he was just surprised at the renewed sexual prowess I let loose on Esme as of late.
I felt completely transparent, but it was possible that after centuries of carefully crafting control over my feelings – concentrated mostly on primal urges – it may have been possible that I was successful in disguising the truth of my feelings.
Whether or not I was fooling everyone, Bella continued to unconsciously drill away at my apparently calm exterior. She had no clue how she affected me, but with the few stolen glances I allowed myself, she seemed to have gleaned some confidence from her chat with Alice. She carried herself a little taller, as if she had a secret that made her stronger. Maybe knowing that Edward's reaction to her teeth scrape was one of arousal rather than fear made her feel sexier; maybe having a seduction plan of attack mapped out gave her confidence that someday, at some point, she would find relief.
All I knew was that the added confidence was making me hornier than a seventeen-year-old boy. I knew not whether she had enacted her conspiratorial plan, as I dared not linger thinking about it; the idea made me so hot, remembering how I felt when I'd come in her almost-presence with that damned scarf, that I literally couldn't bear it.
I took the scarf to work, and although I desired to jerk off again and again with it, I only kept it in my desk drawer. I didn't take it out and handle it, knowing that giving in to that desire would push me too far. But I thought about it.
Obsessively.
I couldn't risk doing it, though. Giving in. It would be the sweetest release, the most erotic luxury apart from having her in the flesh.
I salivated thinking about it.
I couldn't risk Alice seeing, though; I couldn't risk the additional guilt I'd feel for Esme, even if she didn't find out. I couldn't let myself indulge for fear that I wouldn't be able to come back from it. I had such a fear that I'd try to seduce her that I kept away from the scarf and her, almost enough to cause suspicion.
Almost.
The lack of suspicion on Edward's part, at least, gave me a little mental relief. The fact that Jasper sensed something from me should've made me uneasy, but instead, I focused on the one person that had been witness to an actual change in my persona: Esme. She was the sole outlet for my extra…energy. The frequency of our lovemaking had increased from every day or so to at least twice a day, and in environments and positions I had dared not pursue prior to Bella and her beautiful fucking hot smell barging into and taking over my life.
The last weekend hunting trip we had taken together had turned into a blood-hot sexual marathon that may have, in fact, frightened the wildlife out of upstate Washington. I had lured her to my office at the hospital on two occasions in the last month with the promise of some time spent going over home construction plans in preparation for our next move only to have hot, hurried sex atop my desk amongst charts and medical journals.
She complied happily with my desperate plea to have her, her legs spread wide, ass checks sliding against the glass desk-topper as I stood before her, slamming into her, swallowing her grunts and groans of satisfaction, all the while solely focused on the smell I could just barely sense emanating from the scarf in the top desk drawer.
I did see a curious cocked eyebrow every now and then appear on her sweet face as she looked at me across the room when she thought I wasn't paying attention, but she never seemed suspicious or even confused. Her attitude seemed more happily curious. She sensed a change in me, but she didn't feel the need to question it. I dwelled on her reactions like a marathon runner measures steps and miles, almost to the point of giving myself away. My concern for being found out almost trumped my insatiable obsession for Bella's scent, but I repeatedly beat it down.
My wife seemed happy with the introduction of a little bit of undomesticated lovemaking into our lives, and being the only outlet I'd managed besides the employ of my hands and maybe a clandestine sex toy or two (or four), I took advantage of it and tried not to dwell.
I was successful until the day I came home from work to a house empty except for Edward, Bella, and that wonderful smell, which assaulted me like a riding crop against tender flesh the moment I walked through the door from the garage.
It only took me one inhalation to be at more than half mast, and only a second after that to realize what was going on in that room upstairs; the slippery sound of lips against lips, the rustling of clothes against upholstery, and the quiet, muffled, pleading whimpers amid quick breaths gave them away immediately.
I tried to recover, disengage my body's reaction from my brain, and redirect the lust that consumed me into some other – any other – thought before I was discovered.
"Mmmm, Edward," she groaned throatily, bringing me back to my senses somewhat – long enough to take a breath, calm myself, and register in my brain, if not in the rest of my being, that she was Edward's girlfriend. Edward's, not mine.
Not. Mine.
That was when I heard Edward gasp, a sound that shouldn't have affected me, except for the surprise and thrill and barely contained desire I heard in that one sound. It rang so sharply in my ears that I ached for it to have come from me. A million visions flashed through my lust-addled brain of what she could've done to make him gasp that way.
My attempt to repress them failed miserably when I heard her whisper, "Turnabout is fair play." The only thing that could make me any crazier was what happened next. Edward choke-gasped in what sounded like shock, followed by a scraping noise, punctuated by a loud groan that he didn't even try to restrain.
And then I heard a sucking noise that made my brain so fried that I could hear the white noise of my consciousness checking out.
And I might've, if it hadn't been for her pleading.
"No please," she whimpered. The desperation in her voice was heart wrenching. Clothes rustled, then silence.
Then, "Bella." It was Edward, sounding exasperated and defeated. He was a fool; how could he just push her away time and time again? She was going to crack with the strain of it all.
"UGH! Damn it, Edward, I know, I know," she said, sounding defeated herself. How could he not please her, bring that flush to her beautiful cheeks as she praised his efforts with her moans and release? I would never push her away.
I could hear the frustration, the arousal, the teenage hormones, and that hot, pumping blood engorging all those lovely, pink places. It was driving me mad, the thought of it. I felt an agitated haze settle over my conscious thought. I wanted her, wanted her so badly.
I could fix what he could not.
"I'm sorry, I…" he said, the guilt tangible. For the life of me, I couldn't find it within me to empathize with him any longer. It was so unfair, his holding his affections ransom. She deserved to be touched, to let loose her affections, to stretch their beautiful wings.
"No, I know, it's okay," she said, her voice trying to reassure him but searching for relief.
"I…I better go, Edward. It's getting late, and Charlie gets off work in half an hour." It sounded like she was preempting his reasoning for cutting short his affections before he could open his own mouth to do so.
She sounded so calm, but her racing heart betrayed her words.
"You're right," he said, even as he struggled to control his breathing. "I'll take you home."
"Okay. I'm just going to step into the bathroom before we go," she said, the defeat having taken hold completely of her demeanor.
"Yes, well…I'll go get those boxes from the garage so you can take them home to pack," he said. I heard a chaste kiss – of course! – and then Bella agreeing.
They left the room, Bella quickly closing the bathroom door next to his room, Edward making his way down the stairs in my direction.
I cleared my mind of all things Bella and thought about the grotesque surgery I had performed earlier that day to attempt to control the obvious wood pressing against the zipper of my jeans. I quickly slipped into my study before Edward could discover me hovering on the threshold to the garage.
He acknowledged my presence with a quiet, "Hi, Carlisle. Bella's upstairs. We're leaving in a few minutes. I have to hunt quickly – I have to find…something. To kill. If she comes down in less than five minutes, will you distract her? I will be back as soon as possible."
"Of course, Edward. Is everything okay?"
"I'm so incredibly thirsty suddenly – I have to drink something quickly or put my hand through a wall. I think Esme would prefer I hunt," he said in a ragged, breathless whisper.
"I understand. I will stall if need be." Always the reliable, paternal, asexual leader.
He muttered a thank you and quickly slipped out the French doors that led to the porch.
Leaving me.
With her.
I had no way of knowing if he'd heard my thoughts during their encounter upstairs, but I assumed by the calm nonchalance in his voice that his mind had been distracted enough not to have. I breathed a sigh of relief as I switched on my computer, trying to ignore the fact that a frustrated, beautiful, most likely wet girl hovered upstairs trying to calm herself down from an unsuccessful makeout session with her fiancé.
I tried to lose myself in research while refraining from Googling porn, brunette, and spinner. Just as I was clicking "search," I heard Bella sighing in frustration from the bathroom.
Knowing I shouldn't, and that Edward might be back at any moment, I allowed the pull that was always present when she was near to drag me toward her. I slipped up the stairs and hovered outside the door, feeling the electricity that always took up flight through my veins when I was near her, and I listened, like the sick, sick fuck that I am, to her in the bathroom.
"Ugh, Jesus," she moaned, and my eyes widened in disbelief as I heard the distinctive rustling of flesh against cloth against something that caused extreme pleasure, proven by the whimper that emanated from her lips behind the door.
The idea – the mere thought – that she was touching herself behind that door floored me; I couldn't wrap my brain around it. I found myself panting, matching her breath for breath. I pressed my palm into my erection, grateful for the rough texture of denim against my cock. I felt the strange hum that was always present when she was near start to intensify as did her breathing. I heard her fingertips brush against skin and had to physically hold myself back from ripping the door off the hinges to find out exactly what she was touching.
Suddenly, and with a sigh, it all stopped: the brushing of fingertips, the moving of clothes against flesh, the quickened breathing. The abrupt stop was punctuated with a frustrated, "UGH!" from Bella, and the slap of flesh against marble.
I wrenched my hand away from rubbing my jeans roughly against my cock just in time to realize she was taking steps toward the door. In an instant, I was down the stairs and fleeing to the garage toward the safety of my car and the distance from her – and Edward's return – that it would provide.
I wasn't sure she hadn't seen me, but I had to trust in the fact that her eyes were human and took milliseconds to focus. I had been gone before she'd finished opening the door. The door I had been so close to removing in order to get to her.
I had been so close to doing it.
I spent the next few moments with ears trained on her footsteps making their way down the stairs and willing down an erection, the likes of which I had never experienced. I felt like I could drive nails, pleasure every single Rockette, and use the wet-dry vac for an hour before this erection would be satiated.
Close as I could get to normal in her presence, I reinstated my benevolent smile and kind eyes as I pretended to make my way in from the garage. She was walking toward me, a tentative smile on her face. Nothing, though, could distract my perfect senses from the heady perfume emanating from between her legs.
I refrained from the deep breath my lungs desired so, and trained my eyes on hers, trying to see her as the human she was: my son's girlfriend, not just the object of my extreme sexual desire.
Her flushed cheeks, pungent scent, and sweet smile ignited something in me that urged me to roar and curse and take and fuck. I vibrated with lust; her scent forced my control to its limit.
When she noticed me, her eyes widened and her breathing seemed to accelerate just slightly. I could almost swear even more of that delicious scent filled the space around her.
What was this reaction? Could she be attracted to me? Could her body sense my intense desire? Could what was left of a human's animalistic receptor sense some pheromone-type secretion my own body was creating? Even my pores couldn't resist trying to draw her in.
"Ah, Bella," I said with a measured breath through only my mouth, while I struggled to make small talk. "On your way home to pack, I hear?"
"Yes, and to spend some time with Charlie before the wedding," she said, her frantic heartbeats distracting me for just a moment from her intoxicating smell.
"Well, Charlie's a lucky man to have such a thoughtful daughter," I said, smiling again, trying to appear fatherly to distance myself from her mentally, even if I could barely contain my reaction to her phsycially.
I placed my hand on her shoulder in a fatherly gesture and almost lost consciousness at the electric energy that immediately hummed through me. I found myself humming and nodding for no distinguishable reason, and unable to detach my hand from her. It was as if my body was rebelling against me, making decisions on its own regardless of what was right or proper.
The moment lasted too long, and as I tried to regain control of my extremities – all of them – she blinked and shook her head, smiling up at me. She stared at me with something that bordered on adoration, shock, and possibly…attraction?
Before I could do something passionate and desparate, I pulled my hand away, much to the distress of my body, and laughed nervously, searching for something to say.
"Well, I hope we'll see you again soon," was all I could conjure.
A vampire, head of a coven, 300 years her senior, struck dumb by a human girl barely aware of her own femininity, much less the power of her sexuality.
God help me.
God, please do help me?
"Yes, yes of course, tomorrow," she said, surprising me with the specificity of her response.
"Tomorrow, then," I said, unable to hold back the intense drinking in of her that my body demanded, knowing she would be leaving my presence. And knowing that she would be back for my senses to feast upon the next day.
I patted her once more on the shoulder, unable to give up the feeling coursing through me at the physical connection with her, and then ripped my hand away from her. I intentionally brushed her body with my shoulder as I forced myself away from her in the small confines of the hallway.
Confines in which my subconscious had already painted with fifty three different ways to deflower her.
By the grace of some torturous god, Edward arrived in the driveway just as she stepped past me. Blinded by the haze of her presence, I had completely forgotten my promise to stall until he was back.
I heard her take two unsure steps, stop, and breathe deeply for a moment before she continued on out to the garage. Even after the door closed between us, I could still feel the tangible electric zing that hummed through me.
I was lost, and she had no idea that she'd already sealed her fate.
I had to have her. I had no idea how I'd live with myself, but I knew if I denied myself the pleasure any longer I would literally lose my mind.
She was unsafe around me, but I couldn't bear to separate myself from the situation.
All was defnintely lost, even if she didn't know it.
I stumbled back into the garage, jumping in the black Mercedes, heading for the only slight refuge I could conjure at this point: work.
Maybe I could lose myself in my work, if only for a few hours.
I was kidding myself – she had taken over my life, my thoughts, and even my subconscious.
Work was where the scarf and more of her scent was.
I was so fucked.
O.O
A/N: Sooooo…yeah, he's fucked. Sorry, Carlisle.
And on another note: I have the best reviewers in the freaking fandom, people. I can't believe the reviews you guys leave me every time I post. What I lack in quantity, I seriously excel past all others in quality, and I love you for it. I just wanted to tell you all en masse, since I don't always get my replies done. I mean to, but RL, you know. Yadda, yadda, yadda. Same story, different author. But I do cherish them all and take them all into account, so thank you. Seriously, yous guys. Seriously.
This one, however, won the prize for biggest gaffaw outta my mouth:
"Just let Carlisle eat her out already!"
Now if I did that, we woulda been done with this fic in the first chapter, wouldn't we have? :)
One last thing: if I'm not already following you on twitter, PM me (or Review-me?) your twitter handle and I'll follow your ass. Cuz, secretly, I wanna know what all you h00rs are thinking on an everyday basis. If you wanna follow me, I'm (at)MaBarberElla