Author's Note: Beer makes this story better! Thanks to mac214 (who just changed her name to confuse me . . . something about so long and thanks for all the fish) and jkane180 for the beta, and DoUTrustMe for pre-reading me and helping me be a little sweeter. This chapter is a lemon.
Facebook Status: He's mine, bitch.
Edward Cullen commented: It's true. I'm hers.
I couldn't bring myself to regret this decision. Edward held my hand, our entwined fingers shaking his entire arm with my anxious trembling.
"You're sure?" he asked quietly, leaning down to kiss my forehead. I nodded in response and pulled him up the narrow staircase leading to my room - the same staircase I climbed every night. The context of this particularly extraordinary ascension made everything about my house seem mundane in comparison. I pushed him back against the wall for a moment to kiss his jaw; the muscle at the juncture where the bones met spasmed under my hot mouth.
His face . . . it was just too beautiful to be set in contrast with the wall here; the paint was chipped, the off-white colour all but faded. I wanted to trace his mouth with my hands, to feel him under my fingers as proof he was real, that he wouldn't disappear like a mirage - an oasis to a woman dying of thirst in the desert.
I was so thirsty.
And he was so fucking beautiful.
Shit, now I'd never be able to look at the staircase again without disdain. The stairs would be horrendous without Edward now that he'd graced them with his beautiful feet. The dull beige, thread-bare carpet was pretty ugly as it was.
Huh. This was seriously what was going through my head while I led the most beautiful boy in the history of cock to my bedroom for a little afternoon-delight-cunnilingus.
Suffice it to say, I had serious issues.
"Bella," Edward groaned. "You're driving me crazy. Please . . . tell me what you're thinking."
"You're too beautiful for these walls, and I want you to tongue my clit." Apparently, the filter that was supposed to trap the crap my brain spewed into my mouth was malfunctioning. I was going to give honesty a try. Maybe I'd scare him away. "Also, I really hate this carpet, and I kind of wish I had the foresight to have gotten a wax. I could shave if you want."
His face broke out into a grin, and I couldn't tell if it was derisive or not.
"What are you thinking?" I pleaded.
"I want to be good enough for you; I want to make up for what I did to you." He looked down at his beautiful feet and my ugly carpet. "I really, really don't want to fuck this up."
"Edward." I tried to say his name calmly, but my entire body vibrated with fear and need. An electricity seemed to flow between us, as if our nervous systems were inexorably intertwined. "It's like you have a mainline jack into me somehow."
He smirked. "Not currently." Electrical current.
We reached the top of the staircase, and he pushed me against the bathroom door. "I'd like to be jacked into you," he said, leaving me breathless. "Shit, you should shut me up."
"Nah, I set myself up for that, comparing myself to an outlet." I giggled nervously and lowered my head in embarrassment, feeling my face flush.
"Hey." He cupped my chin and angled my face so I was forced to look at him. "Don't be nervous or ashamed." He licked his lips and pressed them gently against mine. "I just want to make you feel good. This is all about you, Bella," he murmured against my mouth, and my tongue shot out to lick his lip as he spoke. "No one's ever properly taken care of you?"
"What do you mean?"
He lowered his hand to my inner thigh and squeezed gently before cupping my pussy over my jeans. Instantly, I liquefied. "Made it all about you . . . your pleasure."
I shook my head and gaped at him. I was pretty sure my eyes were saucers, that was until he started playing me like a piano, pressing into my pants in all the right places. My head fell back against the door, and I cried out, swore, begged for him to touch me beneath my panties. I wasn't sure exactly what I was saying, only that I was pleading for more of what he'd just given me a taste of. Happy birthday to me!
"Open the door," he practically growled.
"Why? Do you have to pee?" My voice was a moan. "This is the bathroom."
He lifted me off the ground, using the door for leverage, and my legs automatically wrapped around his waist. I could feel his erection straining against my pussy, even through all the layers of clothing between us.
He wanted me.
"Your room?"
"Behind you."
"Need to get you naked now." He retreated until his back hit my door, and I still clung desperately to him.
"Yes, please."
"I think I need to put you down to open the door," he apologized.
"Don't ever let go." I was a little irrational.
"Need to."
"You've inexplicably lost your ability to use pronouns."
"Blood left brain and settled in dick."
"Do you have the balls to back up that statement with hard evidence?" I reached down to cup his junk as he set me down on my feet.
"Have you been watching porn or something?"
"Yeah." I shrugged. I wasn't going to lie about it. "Don't pretend you haven't."
"I haven't." His eyebrow twitched.
"You're lying."
"Yes."
"Open the door already, but don't judge me, okay?"
He frowned at that. "Why would I judge you? For what?"
"My room. Yours is sociopathically neat and organized. Mine is so messy."
"I don't care," he insisted, reaching behind me to the door. I stared at my broken nails and heard him take a sharp breath. "Um, were you robbed and vandalized?"
"Nope. I'm a pig. I'm messy and highly disorganized. Are you sure you want to do this? We can leave if you wan-"
"Shut the fuck up and get naked." He smiled warmly as he said this; otherwise, it could have been construed as pushy. Not that I would have minded. It was hot when he went all "caveman" on me. "Do you honestly think the mess bothers me, considering what we're about to do?"
"Doesn't it?"
"Well, a little bit." His mouth twitched, and I couldn't tell if he was messing with me or not.
"Shut up-" I was going to respond with something scathing and witty, but I suddenly found my mouth occupied. His hands settled at the small of my back while we kissed with abandon. Lust fluttered deep in my abdomen like butterflies, and I moaned at the sensation, wrapping my arms around his neck. He tasted fresh and spicy like peppermint and cinnamon. I laved my tongue against his over and over again, losing myself in the sheer bliss of the action and mewling like a kitten, my knees buckling at his answering groan.
"Please," I managed to say between kisses.
He slipped his hands under my shirt and traced over my stomach, his lips nibbling and biting at my ear while I squirmed. His fingers felt warm and rough, and I wanted to feel more of him on me.
"Can I take your shirt off?" he asked against my cheek.
I don't know, can you? Rather than being a smart ass, I found myself nodding and begging. Fuck, I had absolutely no dignity whatsoever, I realized as I writhed under his touch.
"What do you want?"
"I want to suck your cock," I said automatically. "Give it to me."
He shook his head. "This is all about you. My cock is staying in my pants."
"But I want it!" I protested, struggling to grab his dick. He grabbed both my wrists in one of his hands, ignoring my pleas and biting one of the buttons off my shirt. Holy fuck! He was an animal! He spit the button out, and we both watched it fall to the floor.
"You want to pick that up, don't you?" I asked breathlessly, still struggling to free my hands. "It's okay. Sex is supposed to be messy."
"Fuck." He lowered his head to my breastbone and muttered out a string of curses.
"What's wrong?"
"I need to calm down." His eyes were all pupil, the green of his irises completely eclipsed by black. He bucked against my hip. It was glorious. I loved the feeling of him all hot and hard and excited for me. My hand escaped his grasp and flew to his crotch to rub him. "No," he pleaded. "I need for this to be about you. Please?"
"But I want to."
He pushed me down on my bed so I landed flat on my back and he continued to fiddle with my buttons, kneeling over me. I could see his erection straining, just beyond my reach.
"Will you take your clothes off?" I asked timidly as he stared at my exposed chest. I could feel my nipples tighten and poke against the lace of my bra. His fingers explored my skin, rubbing circles up my stomach, around my ribs, and finally settling on the undersides of my breasts.
I felt far too vulnerable under his gaze.
"What're you thinking?" I mumbled.
"There are no words."
He fiddled with the clasp in the front, between the cups of my bra, until it unfastened and then gently peeled away the lace from my skin. I shivered with lust and from the cool air that caressed me, goosebumps erupting all over. Edward's lips parted, his eyes seemingly riveted by my nipples.
The look in his eyes, the lust and raw adoration reflected in his gaze, was almost enough to make me come. He had such power over my emotions it was insane.
"Is it . . . okay?" I wasn't sure what I was asking. He clearly liked what he saw, but I needed some sort of affirmation.
"More than okay." He smiled. "Are you okay?"
I nodded my head automatically. "I'm just nervous. I- I'm not used to this . . . the not touching back thing. It makes me feel strange."
"Bella, please? I won't make you do anything you don't want to, but please let me make you feel good? Please don't feel like you have to offer something in return."
"Why do you want to do this so badly? I mean, I know I asked for it, but why are you so happy to give and get nothing back?"
"Isn't it obvious?" His fingers settled just under my breasts, and my body screamed; I arched towards him. I wanted more.
"Why?" I gasped, grabbing his hands and placing them over my nipples.
"I adore you."
He adores me. Why the fuck did he adore me? You know what? It didn't matter.
"Okay," I agreed.
Warm fingers trailed down my stomach, down past my navel, softly caressing the flesh just under the waist of my jeans. My hips danced off the bed, my body seeking more of his touch, more butterflies. Squirming, I writhed and twisted, feeling a wave of strange euphoria sweep me up as he undid the button of my jeans. Again, I arched off the bed, this time to help him shimmy my jeans down over my hips, down past my knees. He pulled back and stood, yanking my pants with him.
"Panties?"
"They're yours."
"Thanks. I mean, can I take them off?" His eyebrows were raised in a question.
Please. "I don't see any way around it."
Torture. Slow, sweet, and hot. His hands on my body were sadistic, touching every inch of me, contrasting between light and heavy caresses. I wanted to feel his weight all over me. I wanted to writhe underneath him.
I had trouble containing a surprised squeal of delight as he kissed my body: the curve of my hip, just below my navel, the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. While he kissed me, he removed the final piece of clothing - le panties de résistance.
He moved too slowly, pulling my underwear gradually down my body and dragging my sanity away with them. He settled himself between my thighs and breathed me in, his eyes fixed on my bare pussy for moment, just looking.
"Is it okay?" I couldn't help asking. No one had ever stared at it the way he was doing before.
"It's so pretty," he said, and I snorted in reply. "No, really! So pink and small. Your pussy is a seashell." He placed a soft kiss on my clit and whispered against it, "A motherfucking seashell."
Hot mouth, tongue, gentle pressure - I wanted to laugh but moaned instead.
I felt open and powerful and vulnerable. I felt beautiful.
Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, oh Christ, fuck me. I breathed and gasped, crying out. Actually, I was speaking words. The mantra in my head had trespassed through my lips. "Fuck me, Edward, fuck me."
His tongue was a flurry of motion between my thighs, his fingers moving in tandem.
"Oh, my, fuck! It's the piano!"
He didn't reply. His mouth was busy.
Fucking piano.
My hands twisted in his hair, pushing his face tighter against my cunt. I felt a pressure build in my stomach as the throb between my legs increased to a crescendo.
"Shit. Oh, fuck," I swore. I think I also told him again how much I'd like to spend time with his cock, but I couldn't be certain.
Every muscle in my body seemed to tense suddenly while my pussy attempted to milk Edward's fingers.
He lifted his head from my clit and looked at me. "Is that good, baby?"
I didn't even care that he sounded like a cliché.
Tremors wracked my body, and I cried out as the first wave of the nirvana I sought finally hit me. The walls of my pussy contracted again around Edward's fingers, and he knew at once what was taking place inside of me. He groaned and thrust his hips into my knee, in rhythm with every peak and valley of my climax.
It was so fucking good.
He was so fucking good.
"I'm coming," I told him, rocking my hips on his hand. "Oh, god, Edward."
"You're so fucking beautiful, Bella. Just feel it." He continued to coax the orgasm out of me while I let out a loud moan that would have embarrassed the shit out of me if I wasn't punch-drunk on sex hormones.
He didn't let up on the magical momentum of his fingers until he was certain I'd ridden the final wave home.
I came apart completely, tears of relief coursing down my face.
"Are you crying, baby?"
"Yeah," I admitted. "You're that good, asshole. Don't get a big head about it or anything."
"Of course not, pretty girl."
-({})-
"Why me?" I asked after several minutes of post-orgasmic bliss.
"Huh? What do you mean? Wasn't it good?"
I threw a pillow at him. "Don't be a 'tard. I mean, out of everyone, why do you like me . . . honestly, I'm completely baffled by this. It seems like a random fixation."
"Well, I guess I could understand why you feel that way, seeing as I showed you my therapy journal. I mean, you've seen how deep my obsessive compulsive tendencies run." He stopped speaking and spooned me tenderly, enveloping my entire back with his front. It had been so long since I'd been properly cuddled. I closed my eyes and sighed, melting. "You're different - smart, creative, funny, ridiculously adorable in your own unique, crass way. Ever since you bled all over my shirt in front of Newton's Sporting Goods, I just can't shake this feeling that you're the girl for me." He placed an open-mouthed kiss on my shoulder, and I shivered.
"You're a silver-tongued asshole."
"You did not just insult my tongue!"
My face grew hot. "You're right . . . it's currently my favourite appendage of yours."
"Your favourite? Well, that's a little disappointing . . ."
"Hey! Little Sex-hair is off limits for the time being."
"Yeah, I guess that's fair. Bella?"
"Yes?" I looked back at him.
"What do you see in me exactly?" His face was so serious. I scowled at him, so he clarified by throwing my words back at me. "I'm completely baffled by this. It seems like a random fixation."
"I don't actually have a really good answer. I mean, you're beautiful, self-confident, charming . . . you always say the perfect thing in almost any situation. I think- I guess maybe you're the person I wish I could be."
"You're utterly ridiculous." He snorted. "I'm annoyingly anal and set in my ways. I'm also pushy."
"You can push me; I wouldn't mind," I promised, rolling onto my back so I could look at him. How the fuck did I get this lucky? I ran my fingers over the line of his jaw in pure fascination.
"Hah! You're too strong-willed . . . like, um, a wild, unbroken horse."
"So break me, Sex-hair. And also? Leave the similes to me, okay? No girl wants to be compared to a horse. Although, you can totally ride me if you want."
"Temptress."
"Yeah."
"Bella?"
"Yes?"
"Do you regret it . . . what we just did?"
"Nope. Best birthday present ever! There is something I still want though."
"What's that?"
"Your underwear."
He laughed. "Go ahead and update your Facebook status."
"What? Really?"
"Yeah. I'm yours . . . I want everyone to know. In fact, I'll update mine too."
A/N - NEWS! I posted a new story called "In the Shadow of Your Heart," and it's a horror/romance. Let's see if I can write a non-comedic fic. Oy. Also, DoUTrustme and I will be posting the final chapter of Don't Fear the Reaper on our joint profile shortly. This is PURE crack fic.
Finally, if you were reading mac's fic The Stiletto Talisman, please note that I've agreed to finish it for her. I'll be posting to our joint macflan profile. Again, this is crack fic, and I'll do my best to finish the fic in the spirit mac intended using her outline.
I love you for reading Tomato. I'd love you more if you made my phone buzz. Just sayin' :P