Author's Note: Big love to Mac and Jess for beta'ing. Thank you to Melg0510 for pimping Tomato on Fictionators, and to SheViking for pimping to her readers. This is a short-ish chapter. Facebook Status: Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered
"I need to be inside you." Edward's voice cracked. He sobbed against my shoulder, fumbling with the buttons of his fly.
"Okay," I whispered in his ear, threading my fingers through his hair. "Okay, calm down." I could feel his entire body trembling on top of mine, his neck arching at a violent angle as he threw his head back, another strangled sob pushing through his lips.
Was he trying to fuck me, or did he just have a seizure?
"Sorry, sorry, sorry . . . no time to be a gentleman about it." He settled himself between my legs, nudging me open with his gentle but insistent cock.
Okay, well . . . that answered that.
I gripped his ass, feeling the muscles flex beneath my hands as he pushed into me easily, swearing, likely in surprise at how quickly I accommodated him. I mean, it probably wasn't like throwing a sausage down a hallway or anything, but my pussy definitely felt looser than it had last time.
We lay there for a moment, unmoving, panting. I used my feet to shimmy his jeans further down his legs, needing to feel more of his skin against mine.
"I've been thinking about this all day," he finally groaned, pulling his hips back from mine slightly before bearing down again. "You have no idea . . ."
"I think I have some idea."
"I nearly took my dick in my hand during biology class." He brought his mouth to my neck, and I squealed as his tongue and teeth assaulted my flesh. "Couldn't stop thinking about your tight, little pussy . . . I nearly came in my pants."
"That's hot," I panted. "Totally the wrong day for me to skip school . . . oh, christ, pound into me already."
I kicked his ass with my heel, spurring him into a gallop, groaning pornographically as he set a merciless pace, our skin slapping together and punctuating every moan. Fuck, I loved him beyond all reason. So much so that it hurt to look at him.
So I closed my eyes, just feeling his hot, slick skin over mine and listening to the sounds of our lovemaking.
How could I live without this? I bit my lip to help keep my mind focused on being blank. Except the moment I tried not to think, my brain went apeshit, its hamster wheel squeaking obnoxiously.
What if this was our last time together? Shouldn't I catalogue every sound he made, every freckle on his body?
Wait, this didn't have to be the end. All I needed was a little time . . . for both of us. He could be reasonable, right?
Probably not. He needed to know how I felt while I still had his attention. "I love you, Edward. No one makes me feel the way you do."
He replied with an equally sentimental profession: "Motherfucker, I'm gonna come."
No fucking way! "Please," I gasped. "Just a little bit more? I'm close . . ."
"Yeah, baby. Come for me," he pleaded desperately. I opened my eyes and saw my own need reflected back in his brilliant green irises.
Cool air kissed my body as he rolled back on his knees, pulling me with him without breaking coitus.
"Watch, baby. Watch my cock slip inside you," he urged, guiding me over his lap so I could ride him. He licked his index and second finger, rubbing my clit with those expert hands.
He played me like a concerto, and it took all my will to refrain from humming 'Ode to Joy'.
My orgasm swept over me like a tidal wave, dragging me down in its undertow quickly and mercilessly. I'd been so busy obsessing over Edward, I hadn't noticed my own pleasure mounting and surging.
"Fuck me, Edward, I'm coming."
"Yeah, I can fucking feel it, baby."
His face took on an almost pained expression: his eyes squinting, his nostrils flaring, and his jaw clenching.
"Come!" I yelled, afraid he'd pop a blood vessel if he kept trying to stave it off.
He did something unexpected, then, pulling his cock out of me and pumping it in his fist. I watched with aroused curiosity . . . until he pushed me flat on my back and jizzed all over my tits.
Well . . . that was, um, sweet?
"Oh, shit. I should get a towel or something," he muttered, his face flushed with either excitement or embarrassment.
"Nah, it's cool. I've always wanted a pearl necklace."
We giggled and snuggled on the couch. Yeah, I was stalling. Fucking sue me. This would not go well, I felt certain of it.
"Edward," I said finally - well, more like gasped emphysemically because that orgasm totally robbed me of my ability to breathe, "I think we need to talk."
He sat up quickly, capturing my hands in his and kissing them. "No," he practically cursed, "we don't."
"Yeah, we do. Look, I know you're not gonna be happy about what I have to say, but I need you to listen to me, okay? Like, really listen and don't interrupt."
"Bella . . ." he shook his head, pulling me into his arms. "Don't do this, baby. Just . . . whatever you think you need to do . . . don't."
"I love you, Edward," I said quickly, firmly, keeping my voice even. "I love you more than I think you know. I'm never going to stop loving you . . . but I need to be not with you while I go through this shit."
"No, Bella . . . I won't let you break up with me." His eyes flashed at me, his jaw flexing spasmodically, seemingly holding all the tension in his body. Pain seared through my upper arms as he dug his fingers into my flesh.
"I'm not breaking up with you . . . exactly. I need some time, that's all-" The words choked off in my throat as he tightened his hold on me, blossoms of bruises blooming under the hideous pressure of his hands.
Phil always said I bruised easily.
"You need me!" he yelled. "You fucking need me." He made a sound like a hiccup, and to my horror, messy tears slid down his face, streaks of white over the flushed pink canvas of his skin. His fingers dug impossibly harder into my armfat.
"I do. I need you so much. But I can't be with you like this. We need to be better for each other. Don't you see we're just making everything worse by being together?" I wiggled, trying to unlock the iron cuffs of his hands. "You're fucking hurting me," I finally whined, unable to escape.
"Don't do this," he repeated like a man under the thrall of a sick love spell. Oh my fuck, it was totally like that episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer where Xander cast a spell to make the student body fall in love with him. He seemed positively possessed. "I can't-"
"You're okay. You'll be fine . . . great, even, without me. And it's not forever. I mean, if you still want me after-"
"Shut the fuck up," he spat, jumping to his feet and yanking his pants and underwear over his hips in a swift jerk of his hands. "Don't say it."
"Say what?"
"Don't fucking sit there all calm and shit, telling me what I need. Don't you dare fucking tell me me I don't have to wait for you."
"You don't. I wouldn't expect you to. I always knew you were out of my league. Shit, dude, from the moment we met I've been waiting for you to figure out you're too good for me."
"Fucking, don't!" he growled, balling his hands into fists. For a terrifying moment, I wondered if he was going to strike me.
"I don't know what you don't want me to do or say!" I whimpered, jumping to my feet so I could look him in the eye while I spoke.
"Bella . . ." he howled, crying in earnest. "You're breaking my heart."
I . . . didn't know what the fuck to say to that. Could I take it back? Was it too late?
"I just want to be better for you, Edward. Please stop crying? I can't fucking take it." I put a tentative hand on his shoulder, and he lurched forward, his face contorted in rage and anguish, his fists balled even tighter.
Everything slowed down, and my instincts misguided me.
In a terrible, interminable moment, time ceased to exist. I'd hurt the only boy I'd ever loved, and he wanted to hurt me back. I cowered, covering my face with my arms to protect it, dropping to my knees and balling up like a hedgehog.
A large, white hand flashed in my periphery, and I flinched and tensed, waiting for the searing pain and crunch of bone that would no doubt follow.
Except Edward would never hurt me. Even in my delirium, I knew that.
"Get up," he seethed. "I feel like enough of a shit. I'd never hurt you, so stop acting like a fucking victim. Because I'm sick of it. I'm sick of being made out to be a shit because your daddy forced you to suck his dick."
"Okay," I whispered from my place on the floor. "That was a mistake. I didn't mean . . ." My throat tightened painfully. I could no longer speak or move. All I could do was let out a keening yowl, a pathetic version of a primal scream.
"Stop screaming. You are not allowed to scream." He kicked the coffee table, and it exploded into shrapnel, splintering along with my heart. Except I broke his heart. So why did mine ache so fucking much too?
"I'm so fucking sorry," I sobbed. "I love you so much it hurts."
He laughed, a bitter and ugly sound. "I hope it fucking hurts. I hope you feel just a fraction of what I do right now because it's fucking over. It's fucking over, and you did it." He wiped his nose with the sleeve of his shirt. "You did it."
"Okay," I repeated dumbly. "I did it. I'm so sorry."
I obliterated Edward's faith in me, but I couldn't bring myself to regret this decision. Even if he never forgave me.
I totally just destroyed the only boy I ever loved. Also, I knew without a shadow of doubt I'd never love another with the same voracity.
That totally wasn't hyperbole.
Fuck this. I'm getting drunk.
A/N - sorry, sorry, sorry! Ummm, please trust me?