Chapter Eight
EPOV
Bam, bam, bam!
I wake with a start, shoving myself up in the bed where I spent a long, restless night.
My blurry eyes glance around at the unfamiliar room: beige walls, sandy-brown curtains, light blue hues in the rugs and knickknacks on the walls and shelves. After a minute, I realize I'm not back in the shitty apartment where I lived following my separation, and divorce from Kate.
I'm at Bella's … living in her backyard …
The insistent pounding of a fist against the front door of the cottage-like house, fills the air once again. My feet hit the bare floor, and I curse as I slam my knee into the door frame, still blurry eyed, still half-asleep. What little sleep I did manage to get was filled with dreams … fantasies, of Bella sneaking across the dewy grass at night, slipping inside the guesthouse, and easing under the bedsheets next to me.
I'm rewarded with Bella's hesitant face once I've unlocked and opened the door. A plate of food rests in one hand and my stomach grumbles, as I rub my belly, probably looking like a caveman. The smell of bacon and eggs causes me to not really give a shit about how I look.
"Honey … you cooked?"
I tease her in a joking tone with a half-cocked grin on my face. The grin slips away as her teeth sink into her bottom lip. Bella's eyes travel from my face, down my chest, landing on the prominent, straining erection scarcely hidden by my cotton sleep pants.
"Oh, my God," she whispers, covering her eyes with her free hand. The hand drops from her eyes and flutters around. She's struggling to gain control of her gaze, and I can't help but laugh at the growing redness spreading from her cheeks and down her neck. The color dips under the neckline of her blouse, and suddenly I'm the one checking her out. Actually, I'm checking out her breasts, the full, roundness of them, and the way her nipples strain against her shirt just as desperately as my cock strains against my pants.
"Maybe I should …" Bella takes a step back.
"No. Come in. I hope you brought enough for both of us."
"I already ate," she whispers, her shoulders relaxing as I grab her hand and guide her inside.
I know what I'd like to eat for breakfast.
"Has anyone called you about a potential job?"
Bella leaves her flip-flops by the front door, then makes her way to the small dinette table. I frown, shake my head, and join her at the table. Bella pushes the plate forward, fork already tucked between the eggs and bacon. I tear off a small piece of the bacon and lean forward on the table. Bella swallows, then parts her lips as I hold the bacon near her mouth. I place the bacon on her tongue, groaning as she wraps her lips around the tips of my fingers. She pulls away, those cheeks burning once more, but my hand lingers where her mouth once was… until I snap out of my Bella-induced haze.
"Not yet, but maybe someone will call sometime soon. I spent last night digging through the online classifieds. Thanks again for the wifi password."
"Of course," she whispers.
Bella leans an elbow on the table and rests her head on her hand. She watches me eat, and normally something like that would bother me. When Kate watched me, it annoyed me. But with Bella … it's different. She doesn't berate me for the way I chew, or how fast I eat, as if I'm some sort of ravenous pig. She doesn't tell me to wipe my mouth or bicker about … anything. She quietly watches, as though I'm as fascinating to her as she is to me.
There's no way.
"Want another bite?"
Bella's eyes widen. There's a violent shake to her head that sends her wavy, brown hair tumbling from the loose bun at the crown of her head.
"You don't like it when I feed you?" I ask, teasing her with my tone.
Bella clears her throat and whispers something below her breath. I ask her to repeat it, and she does.
"I like it when you feed me."
Goddamn, she doesn't even realize how sexy she is … scared and hesitant, shy but certain. Yeah, she's certain. She's certain about something. I see it in her eyes. It looks a lot like …
Lust.
"Come here," I tell her.
Bella shakes her head again, but it's all a thin thread of her former self that she scrambles to hold onto, made up of the doubt caused by who she is, and whoI am to her. I cut that thread with one stern look, and the scraping of my chair as I shove it out from beneath the table.
"Here," I repeat, pointing to my lap.
I worry that I've scared her away with the sternness in my voice, and the firmness in my eyes, but then she stands, and I want to weep. I want to fucking cry as she slowly rounds the table and stands just a breath away from me. The soft, yellow shirt she wears clings to her body in the most desirable way. The short-shorts leave little to the imagination, and my mind is instantly flooded with the memory of the day she sat on my lap and allowed me to touch her.
For a minute I think she's gonna run. Just take off through the door of the guesthouse and never look back. But she doesn't. She straddles my lap, sliding her heat against where I yearn for her the most. I groan at the contact, and she does as well. It's more of a soft sigh than a groan, and I capture it with my lips, gentle at first. Kisses that you would consider friendly … until they're not. They turn frenzied, and desperate, as her tongue demands an entrance which I readily allow. Her fingers dance across my bare chest, lightly flicking across my nipples. I thrust against her with the contact, and she moans, thrusting against me as well. My hands lightly grip her ass, and then I guide her against me, dry humping like we're two teenagers instead of two grown adults.
"Edward-"
"I need to taste you. Let me taste you."
My pleading words cause her to shudder and pull away, but I don't give her time to think. I stand with her still straddling my lap. Bella throws her arms around my neck, her body startled with the sudden movement. Something between a laugh and a squeak of surprise passes through her lips. That sound is quickly muffled by a moan and whimper as I shove the plate so hard across the table that it tumbles to the floor and breaks into a dozen or so pieces.
"I hope that plate wasn't a fucking antique or something," I mutter, hooking my fingers in the waistband of her shorts and staring into her wide eyes. "But I honestly don't give a fuck right now."
A quiet moan escapes her, breaking through our heavy 's only a second's worth of hesitation before Bella lifts her hips from the table, Teeth sunk in her bottom lip, she stares up at me, then at my hands, watching me work the worn fabric down her from below her waist. Plum-colored, lace panties peek out from beneath the jean shorts, and I'm rewarded with a delicious view of the soft curves of her ass once she lifts, allowing me to slide her shorts over her creamy, smooth thighs. She settles back down on the table, and I concentrate on her face, wanting to be sure she's ready for what I'm about to do.
The hesitation is long gone, and nothing but want clouds her eyes. I toss the shorts aside, and rest my hands over her hipbones. Sinking my fingers into her flesh, I guide her to the edge of the table, accidentally thrusting myself between her legs. The heat in the friction causes a startled moan to build in my chest, and I grit my teeth, concentrating on not blowing my load like a teenage kid.
My fingers travel on their own accord until they're cupping the lace-covered swell of her ass. I gently squeeze, groaning as she simultaneously pivots her hips. Her heat brushes against me again, but this time it's not an accident. Bella's dark eyes go wide before fluttering closed. With each stroke of her cheeks by my fingers, she rolls her hips. Encouraged by her movements, I take the lead, grinding into her and eliciting sweet whimpers and sighs.
Dragging my eyes away from her face, I focus on the way we move together, and notice the wetness spreading over the thin fabric between her legs. Fueled by the sight before me, and my need to please her, I skim my fingers over her skin until I reach her inner thighs. I gently coax them further apart, and she obliges, opening up to me.
"Is this okay?" I ask, stroking my thumb across the wet fabric.
A strangled moan is my answer. Bella thrusts against my thumb as I lightly stroke over the swollen nub hidden behind the soft, silky material. With each swirl of her hips, I press a little firmer, until she's frantically grinding against my thumb. Her body jerks, and her movements still after I pause longer enough to push her panties aside.
"I've dreamed about this," I confess, hooking my foot on one leg of the chair behind me and pulling it towards me, never looking back.
"You have?"
"I have, but to tell you the truth, reality is so much better than fantasy."
I sink into the chair behind me, and settle myself between her legs. Placing gentle kisses on one knee and continuing up her inner thigh, I take my time, savoring the taste of her skin and the soft mewls coming from her throat. My thumb grazes across her clit, barely skimming across the smooth, slick surface. Her hips rise with each flick of my thumb, greedily seeking friction. Pausing from the gentle strokes, I spread her open and taste her for the first time.
I swipe my tongue between her lower lips and take a tortuously slow taste, running my flattened tongue up the slit. She bucks into me, crying out once my tongue brushes across her engorged clit. The garbled sounds she makes, and the tangy way she tastes almost make me come undone. Shoving my hand down my sleep pants and under my boxers, I wrap my hand around my cock, slowly stroking it with each flick of my tongue.
Bella relaxes into me, lightly squeezing my face with her thighs and resting the back of her legs against my chest. The rise and fall of her hips become frantic the longer I lick. The fingers I used to spread her open, now skim along her belly. Bella reaches down and pulls her shirt up, her eyes latching onto mine as I languidly eat her.
"Edward,"
My name is a pleading moan. I watch in rapt fascination as she unhooks the front of her bra and pushes the cups aside. The smooth slopes of her breasts call to me, and I trace one thumb over the tip of a straining nipple, my other thumb swiping over the head of my cock to gather the precum. Propping up on her elbows, she watches me, the widening of her eyes telling me that she's just now realizing I'm stroking myself under the table. My teeth graze over her clit, causing her to shudder. There's a tremble in her thighs, and a sudden sinking to her stomach. Fascinated by the way her body reacts to my touch, I stop licking and suck her clit into my mouth, curious of her reaction.
The quaking in her legs intensifies, and she cries out my name. The tips of her fingers dance across my scalp, and suddenly she's twisting my hair in her hands. I use the cues of her body to please her, sucking harder when she forces my face closer to where it's burrowed between her thighs. The increasing jerk of her body against my mouth causes me to stop stroking myself, and I remove my hand from my pants, and slowly sink my middle finger deep inside of her.
Wetness seeps out, dripping down the back of my hand. Bella moans out a series of curse words, things I've never heard her say. Something about the way her lips wrap around each expletive turns me the fuck on even more. I finger her in earnest, adding another digit and sinking in up to my knuckles. Curling my fingers inside of her slick walls, I find the small, spongy area easily enough. The pads of my fingers skillfully tease the spot with each, inward stroke. Moments later, she gives one, last, strangled cry, and clenches around me, coating my fingers and hand with sticky wetness. Releasing the suction of my mouth, I place a loving kiss on her clit and ease my fingers from inside her body.
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No, they're not, but you know what I mean.
