A/N – Big love to Mac214 for another beta. I owe her a good time should she ever get her ass over to Toronto. Eskimo kisses to my partner in crime, DoUTrustme for pre-reading. Jkane180 is a little under the weather at the moment. I miss her! I'd like to dedicate this chapter to the fabulous SnowWhiteHeart for tweeting enthusiastically about Tomato yesterday! She's the author of the amazing fic Falling for the First Time.
Facebook Status: I fucked Edward Cullen, and all I got was this lousy t-shirt
This was the most humiliating experience of my life - or rather would be but only in retrospect. My current predicament afforded me the luxury of apathy. Sure, tears still coursed down my face as I writhed in front of Edward Cullen, but being emboldened by rage and despair had the curious effect of disassociating my thoughts from my actions.
I felt numb and alive, under his watchful gaze. He was captivated; his light green eyes, now a deep emerald, flashed wildly underneath his long lashes. He wanted me to stop but was desperate for me to keep going.
I felt absolutely everything and nothing at once, and I took a moment to revel at my emotional climate. This was pure ambivalence - and not in the often misunderstood definition of the word, but the true one: my mind was at war with strong and opposing impulses, feelings that were not the least bit compatible with one another. I wanted Edward to hate me and love me. I wanted to hurt and comfort him. I wanted pleasure and pain.
These emotions left me perched on the edge of a knife - the figurative kind - but I didn't seem to care at the moment if Edward tore me apart.
The freedom of not caring was glorious.
"You have nothing to prove," Edward practically hissed at me, even arching his back a little like a cat.
"Not true. You need to learn about chasing windmills." I was a real person, not a fantasy. I'd become flesh under his touch and burn the pedestal he'd trapped me on.
So what if I was about to masturbate in front of Sex-Hair? The bitch had it coming... even if I didn't - come, that is. I squeezed my eyes shut, concentrating on the sound of my hand pulling at the elastic of my panties while I gracelessly kicked my legs until my jeans shimmied down over my hips.
"Do you really think this is necessary?" he growled, his breaths coming in frenzied and quick gusts, almost like the respiration of a man in battle.
In battle with what?
With himself and me.
Maybe he felt ambivalent too.
I kept my eyes closed and listened to him, to the metronome of his angry breathing. There was a cold comfort in the sound.
Still struggling with my jeans, I managed to tug them down to my ankles, and used my feet to pull them off. I heard them land with a thud beside the bed.
I stopped my ministrations for a moment and took a cleansing breath. "Totally necessary. Why? Do you want me to stop?" I held what was left of that breath and pushed a finger inside myself gently. My body was so tense I could barely manage to push in past the nail, but as Edward's ragged breathing took on a double-time tempo, I felt encouraged and managed to fuck myself properly with my index finger.
I opened my eyes.
Oh, god. He groaned a little like I was torturing him and palmed his crotch over his jeans. "Yes, just... don't." His fingers clutched a little at the material, and I could vaguely make out the shape of his erection.
"Why? Would you prefer to do it?"
He made a guttural sound in the back of his throat as he scraped a hand - the one that wasn't cupping his junk - up his face and into his hair, leaving a tousled mess in its wake.
"I think maybe we should call it a night." He stopped pawing at himself and looked down at me sadly.
"No." I raised my hips and slid my hands under the elastic sides of my underwear, snapping the material against my naked hip. "I refuse to be this girl... your Virgin Mary or whatever."
"I don't think of you like the Virgin Mary."
"You do. Lauren gets to be your whore while I'm relegated to the role of priss. I'm not the girl next door." I wiggled a little, closing my eyes again so no tears could betray me by sliding down my cheeks. The burning under my lids was a vague echo of the fury in my mind. He was compartmentalizing us, the women around him.
"Stop it," he ordered with finality. I heard him approach me slowly, and my fingers froze, feeling suddenly shy.
"I want you to do it," I said softly, removing my hand from my underwear. "I just... I want you." I opened my eyes and watched him look down at me. "Pretend I'm Lauren."
"I don't want you to be Lauren," he said, bending down over me. A shiver coursed through my body as he cupped the back of my head and placed an almost chaste kiss on my cheek. His lips lingered there for a moment. I turned my head slightly, our mouths seeking each other out like opposing ends of polarized magnets. His lips were so soft and sweet, meeting mine with feathery, slow pecks full of affection and so different from the tongue fucking I was accustomed to. My mind succumbed to my instincts, or rather, my need. My hands moved of their own volition into his messy hair, pulling his face even closer to mine. Dear Ezra Pound, it was bliss. I'd never known a kiss like it before. My entire body was on fire even though he was only stoking my lips.
"What do you want me to be?" I managed between kisses.
He responded by hooking his hand around my ankle and hitching my leg around his hip. "My Bella," he whispered into the hollow beneath my ear, still offering only the lightest of kisses.
This was a fairytale. Edward was the handsome prince, and I was the epitome of a damsel in distress. The thing was - if I didn't do something quick, I'd be apt to fall for this beautiful lie, and I knew myself well enough to know there was only so much I could take.
"Nut up, asshole, and fuck me properly."
"What?"
"I want your cock, like, now." His hand was on my lower back. I grabbed his wrist and redirected inside of my panties.
"Hey, slow down. There's no rush at-"
"Look, you know I want you, but if you're not willing, there are plenty of guys who are."
His eyes narrowed angrily. "Stop saying shit like that... this isn't like you."
"Oh my god, you're such a little cunt. You don't know me at all." I pushed him away from me, no longer in the mood to play mind games. "We're done here."
"You're upset... I know, Bella. Look, I've trusted you with some of my secrets. Maybe you can trust me with yours."
I didn't really know him either. That was the truth. I was drawn to him and I wanted him, but I didn't understand why.
"If you don't fuck me right now I'm heading over to Jasper Hale's house and giving him a blow job," I threatened. "There, now you know something secret about me. I'm a whore. Now fuck me like one."
His shirt hung down loosely around me, barely touching my arm as he leaned over me. I grabbed the hem and pulled him down flush against my chest.
"Call me a slut," I taunted.
"Shut the fuck up."
I gasped as his hand hooked into my panties and grazed my pubic bone. I wriggled, trying to encourage him to touch me, but instead, he found my fingers and threaded his through them, wrenching my hand over my head roughly. His dark, green eyes seemed to have hardened around the edges, his entire face appearing cold and broken. Did I do that to him? It was for the best. He needed to understand I wasn't the girl he thought I was. Fuck, I really wished I could be her... I refused to indulge in that fantasy, though, and my resolve would not waver.
"Use a condom," I muttered, no longer able to look at his eyes. I watched him procure a condom from under the mattress and rip the package open with his teeth.
"Fucking slut," Edward grumbled, rolling the latex over his shaft.
"Yeah, that's me." I wrapped my legs around his hips and waited. What would it feel like? Would it hurt, or would he be gentle? I think I wanted it to hurt. "You're a whore," I spat.
He growled and pushed into me, my eyes widening in shock at the pain that tore through me. "Ow," I whimpered, even though I didn't mean to.
Edward laughed meanly. "I'll take that as a compliment. I guess you usually fuck pencil dicks."
Somewhere above my own body I hovered watching him use my vagina to masturbate. It hurt so much. I didn't know there would be this much pain... the burning and tearing deep inside. "Stop," I pleaded. "It hurts."
"Bella?" The cruel expression on Edward's face melted away when he realized I was crying. "Was I too rough with you?"
I jumped off the bed and pulled my jeans on quickly, not even bothering to find my underwear.
"Don't be so smug," I managed to say without my voice trembling too much. "Your dick isn't that big. My vagina's just a pussy."
My shirt seemed to have disappeared so I grabbed Sex-hair's and threw it over my head quickly so I wouldn't be exposed. He'd seen enough of my battle scars for one night.
He ripped open a new one.
Edward wasn't looking at me though. He was staring in horror at the blood stain on his bed.
"I don't understand," he stammered. "Are you having your period?"
"No. I would've told you if I was."
"But... the blood?"
"Just because I'd never had intercourse before today doesn't mean I've never been fucked." He had no clue all the ways I'd been fucked.
"Oh, christ... Bella, I'm so sorry. If you'd told me..." He staggered backwards and folded down onto the couch.
You'd what?
"Come here... I'm so fucking sorry." His voice cracked, and his pants were still curiously pooled around his ankles. He sat with his arms outstretched to me, but I didn't want his pity. "Why did you let me believe that you..."
"That I what?"
"That you're a slut."
I glared at him. "I am a slut... and so are you."
He threw me a hurt look and pulled his pants over his hips. "I fucked things up."
"Meh. It takes two to fuck."
"I like you, Bella," he said pathetically.
Yeah, and Dr. Cullen was worried Edward would be bad for my recovery. If only he knew what I just did to his little boy.
Someone should know, right?
In the electronic age, there is a new kind of confessional. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and updated my Facebook status.
-({})-
"I'll drive you to school tomorrow," Edward promised since I'd left my truck in the parking lot.
"Don't worry about it. My dad can drive me." I ignored the text messages on my phone and pulled up one of my favourite playlists to soothe my nerves. Tori Amos' "These Precious Things" seemed like an apt song choice. I almost giggled, plugging a bud into my ear.
"I'll drive you," he insisted. "We need to talk about this."
"There's nothing to talk about."
"Oh, shit." There was a motorcycle in my driveway and a very agitated looking Jake pacing around the bike. "Um, you should probably just let me off here, okay?"
"What? Why?"
I pointed to Jake. "He's going to beat you up for fucking me."
.
.
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A/N - public service announcement regarding orgasms: I've received a few PMs about Bella's inability to come. In her case, it's due to trauma from abuse, but I'd like to refer readers to an amazing post by Naughty Nurse at Perv Pack's Smut Shack http(:/)bit(.)ly/frECrp - remove brackets from link. I've shortened it to link directly with the post.
Was your first time difficult? I know mine was. Leave me a review, if you'd like. My phone is in my pocket just waiting to be buzzed.