Title: Nothing's gonna hurt you baby
Summary: A sex club on a Friday night is the last place Bella wants to be... Or is it?
Disclaimer: The author does not own any publicly recognizable characters herein. No copyright infringement is intended.
"Bella, it'll be fun, come on."
Rosalie's deep voice reaches me in the bedroom, where I'm awkwardly stepping into my heels. "You know, my idea of a relaxing Friday night is not going to an underground sex club," I chime back, wobbly on my feet as I close the buckle around my ankle.
"Oh my god, loosen up." I look up to see Rosalie stalking towards me in a huff, tossing her long blonde waves over her shoulder as she enters my room. "You're going to be wearing a fucking mask. No one is going to know who you are, and you don't have to participate." She stops for a moment, turning the rings on her slender fingers. Her piercing blue eyes narrow in on my face and then sweep to the paper wristband she attached earlier to my wrist. "That's why I organized the wristband. It's perfectly acceptable to just drink and watch."
Rosalie's research on MIDNIGHT informed her that one of the most interesting aspects of the club was its participation policy. To ensure guests were comfortable and consenting, those who simply wanted to attend the club to drink or to watch could wear a simple paper wristband that signaled their off-limits status.
Rosalie was game to participate tonight. Me on the other hand?
The delicate piece of paper burns against my wrist. My breath hitches in my throat and the telltale sign of my embarrassment floods my cheeks. There's no getting out of this.
"Bella, quit this." Her hand waves awfully close to my face. I lean back, dodging her black coffin-shaped nails. "You promised, and I'm not going alone."
Sighing, I pull at my too-tight mini skirt, shifting the barely-there fabric down. Rosalie was right; I had promised I'd go. After one too many glasses of wine last week celebrating my submission of an assignment and Rosalie's new writing gig at DAWN contributing to their love, sex, and dating column, I'd drunkenly agreed to this. This being Rosalie's first assignment: detailing an underground sex club in our city.
"Our Uber will be here in five. Grab your shit. Let's go." Rosalie stalks across the room, stopping in front of the full-length mirror by the door to admire her outfit.
Grabbing my bag from the counter, I scuttle after her, joining her in front of the mirror. Blindly searching for the lipstick in my bag, I take it out quickly and swipe it across my lips, raising my brows at the way the color makes my cheeks flush even more. Snatching it from my hand, Rosalie looks at the underside of the lid. "Twig. I knew this color would suit you. C'mon. Time to go."
The ice clinks inside my glass, the auburn liquid sloshing from side to side. I exhale, looking out into the crowd of people, my eyes lingering on the mass of bodies pressed against each other, writhing in time to the thudding music. I would be lying if I said it wasn't a turn-on. Not enough to participate, but enough to leave me with a deep ache between my thighs, to wonder what it would be like to be out there amongst them. Could I ever be so brave? So unashamed? So…wanton?
A man in a mask pushes past me, reaching for a straw. The force makes me lose my balance on the barstool, my foot hitting the concrete below to steady myself. He mumbles an apology barely heard above the noise before slinking away into the crowd. I shake myself off and feel back in my own body, almost grounded. My skin feels sticky, the air is humid. Suddenly I'm aware of the bead of sweat trickling down my throat. I tilt my head and watch in slow motion as it slides down between my breasts.
Straightening myself back up on the barstool, my eyes close and I relax into the heavy hum of the room. Rosalie's glossy red lips and brilliant smirk fill my mind. She's been gone a while now, having ventured off to check out the 'dark room' where guests of the club could 'play' more privately.
If only I was so bold.
"Having fun?" The words dance across my exposed shoulders, my skin prickling. Leaning into the sound, I find myself face to face with tousled hair and bright green eyes. Strong jaw, muted pink lips. Even in the darkness of the nightclub, I recognize he's fucking hot—way out of my league.
Lifting my glass to his eye line, I clink the ice back and forth. "This is helping a bit." Heat radiates up my chest and into my cheeks as my blush blooms. "Are you having fun?" I ask bravely, taking a long pull of my drink.
Lifting his wrist up, he shakes his hand. "I'm not feeling it tonight, hence the jewelry." Sipping his beer, he gestures out to the crowd of bodies. "Although it seems like everyone else is."
Following his line of sight, my eyes lock on a couple close to the edge of the dance floor. The woman leans back against the railing, mouth open, her head slumped. I tilt my head, squinting, trying to make out what is exactly going on, and then I see it. There's no denying what is occurring. My eyes focus on his hand buried deep inside the zipper of her jeans. My own pussy flutters in excitement. He's fucking her with his fingers, her hips meeting his hand with every rough movement of his wrist. She pants, her mouth forming an 'O' shape as his hand presses against her at a quicker pace. She's coming and completely uncaring of the audience and noise surrounding her. I inhale sharply as my heart stutters, my thighs clenching together, unable to look away.
Green Eyes clears his throat. "Your face gives everything away. Even in the dark, I can see how much you're blushing." He chuckles. "You don't come here often do you?"
"No." I toss the drink back. That was my third and final. I'm buzzed. "I'm here with a friend. She's doing some…research."
The music in the club thuds in my ears, and Green Eyes' proximity has me pulsing in other places. Jesus Christ, Bella, pull it together.
"I'm Edward, by the way." His smooth voice distracts me from the chattering thoughts and my wriggling in my seat.
Keeping my eyes focused on the way my skirt keeps riding up and down my thighs, I murmur, "I'm Bella."
"So this isn't your scene, is it?" Edward leans in close. Too close. His breath feathers the shell of my ear, causing my blush to bloom yet again. I have to get out of here.
"I, uh, I'm not quite sure?" I turn around and place my glass on the bar.
"Do you want it to be?" He turns towards me, eyebrow raised and thighs spread apart. His body is inviting. I want in.
My body buzzes with a combination of fear and arousal. Do I stay, or do I go?
Go.
"Thanks for keeping me company, Edward, but I should go find my friend."
"Wa-wait!"
Jumping off the stool, I walk quickly through the push and pull of sweaty bodies, my eyes searching the mass of people for Rose. Finally I see her stumbling out of one of the side rooms: flushed, tanned skin, her brow gleaming with sweat. Her lips turn up into a smirk when we make eye contact.
"Ready to go? I've got what I need."
I roll my eyes, "And what did you get?"
"A woman called Irina finger-banged me in the darkroom. It was hot!" She tosses her hair over her shoulder and straightens her skirt. "Ugh, can you hold this? My phone's been going off."
Holding her bag as we walk out of the club, Rose's eyes remain fixed on her phone as we stroll outside to the cool Seattle air. I look up to the sky. Rain is on its way, I muse.
"Are you gonna be okay to get home on your own? Emmett wants me to come over." Rosalie barely looks at me as she types away on her cell. "So predictable. Already about to blow his load, and I haven't even gone into details." She laughs, pocketing her phone, finally making eye contact with me. "You good?"
"Sure, go ahead. Have fun."
"Thanks, B." She leaves a heavy kiss on my cheek and waves down her Uber, disappearing into the night.
I book the next Uber, which is ten minutes away, and kill my time rifling through my bag. I find a stray packet of cigarettes. I'm not really a smoker, just occasionally – and if Rosalie saw she'd fume – but after tonight's events, I feel like one for the road might do me some good. Walking under the canopy of a shop front, I light up and sigh, the nicotine taking the edge off. Rain starts to sprinkle against the tarp above my head. It thuds as I work my way through the cigarette, getting heavier as I reach the butt. I toss it and feel immediately gross, ashamed. I want to crumble the packet and toss it, but I also don't. Shame and guilt mix with relief. I'm not buzzing as much now.
The rain intensifies as I spot a blurry white Honda in the distance. I wave, hoping he can see me under the shop canopy. Taking out my house keys, I enclose them in my hand and wave again. The car flashes its lights at me and I prepare to run out onto the sidewalk. In my hurry, I don't see the food delivery scooter cutting across the sidewalk, trying to take over the Honda. I step out and the bike's side mirror clips my side.
Everything is in slow motion. Oh god, I'm airborne! The dark sky is so pretty. There are not many stars out. Though I seem to be looking up, I can't even see the edges of the buildings, just flickering stars. I'm suddenly aware of my keys leaving my hands, and I watch as they fly across the path and into the gutter, splashing into the built-up water and swirling down the drain. Fuck. The wind is knocked out of me as I land on the wet concrete with a thud. Ouch.
"What the fuck, you fucking asshole!" A deep voice bellows through the night and green eyes are looking down on me.
"Are you okay? Can I help you stand up?" His brow is furrowed with worry.
"Ye-yeah, yes," I say meekly, reaching out my hands to him.
"Yo, you gonna grab this Uber or what?" The driver's voice rings through the night.
"Yes, asshole. Let me just get her up and into the car."
The next thing I know, I'm sitting in the back seat of the car with a stranger. Well, not a stranger. But someone I don't know. I know it's the guy from the club, but that's it.
"I don't have my keys, they fell down the sewer. I can't get into my apartment," I mutter, trying to search through my bag for my phone. "Rose isn't coming home tonight, and I'm not going to be able to get in. Shit. Fuck!"
"Relax, you can come back to my place, and we'll figure something out." His hand rests on my knee. "I'd like to check on your hip. You hit the pavement pretty hard."
I nod, biting on my bottom lip. I know it's not smart to go home with someone I barely know, but something about him feels safe. I want to go with him. "Okay." I wince as the car takes a rough turn and I'm jostled in my seat. I grip onto the seat belt nervously as the car comes to a stop.
"Are you able to get out on your own?"
I nod again; as my hands search for the seat belt, Edward is unbuckling me and leaning over to open my door.
I stand outside the car, confused, turned on, unsure. How did I even get here?
The moment the Honda drives off, Edward is standing in front of me, his large hands resting on my shoulders. "You didn't hit your head, did you? You took quite a nasty tumble back there."
I shake my head, unable to say anything. I just want to go somewhere warm and dry off. I don't want to be standing here, looking like a drowned rat next to an Adonis.
He must sense my embarrassment at the way I look; the discomfort radiates off me in waves. "Come with me. I'm going to check out your hip and get you some dry clothes, okay?" he reassures and reaches out his hand. I take it wordlessly and follow along, my small hand encased in his large one.
We enter his loft, and I'm immediately taken aback. It's stunning. The lights of the city flicker outside the large window that stretches across the length of the open space. He doesn't need to turn any lights on; the city skyscape lights up the room.
"This is gorgeous!" I squeak and let go of his hand. I feel so out of place in a space that's so beautiful.
"Why don't you go sit on the couch? I'll grab my work bag and take a look at your hip." He flicks a light switch on, and the lounge area lights up to an amber glow. I walk slowly to the couch and sit down, wincing when my bottom hits the leather.
"So, are you a doctor?" I call out. My lower half throbs, the pain in my hip radiating with every slight movement.
He chuckles in the distance. "Yes, you're in luck. The perfect doctor for this situation, actually."
I look at him, confused. My mind is a little hazy. "Huh?"
"I practice in orthopedics." He smiles. "I'm the best person for when you take a fall like that."
"Oh, right," I murmur, feeling stupid I didn't make the connection.
Edward sits on the couch next to me and opens a black leather bag. He stops for a moment to look at me. "Something on your mind?"
"Every time I open my mouth around you, I feel a little stupid," I blurt out.
"I don't think you're stupid at all." Our knees knock, and rather than flinching, I find myself keeping mine against his.
"Let me take a look at your hip." His eyes travel to my side. "I'm going to need you to pull your skirt down. Is that okay?"
My cheeks are hot and I find myself complying. Moving my hands to the back of my skirt, I stand and unzip, shimmying the fabric down. As the fabric slides down my thighs, I hiss and look down at my side. It's red with two long scrapes. A patch of skin bulges slightly. It's going to bruise dramatically.
Edward's eyes meet mine, his expression silently asking me permission to touch me. I nod. His hands move; they press into my skin and his touch feels like a caress. My body flushes at the feel of his cool fingertips against my warm, bruised flesh. A whimper leaves my mouth when his hands leave me. His brow furrows and I play it off like discomfort, shifting my legs with a grimace. I'm not uncomfortable. I don't even feel the sting of my hip any longer. All I want is his touch back.
A loud snap startles me. "Ice pack," he murmurs. Taking out a cloth and wrapping the package, he holds it against my thigh, and my whole body pulses. "You'll need this for 20 minutes to help with the bruising, but otherwise not much I can do. Lie down. I'll get you a blanket."
Edward stands and walks over to a cabinet near his television, opening a drawer and pulling out a blanket. I look down at my lower half. I'm relieved to be wearing the underwear Rosalie left on my bed with my outfit: black cotton with lace trim. As Edward walks toward me, I lie down and cross my legs in some effort to cover myself. My cheeks flush again.
He leans over me and lays the blanket across my body. His hands move to tuck the sides in. "That okay?"
"I'm sorry about this. Probably not how you imagined your night turning out." My voice is small as I pull the blanket up higher and curl my legs up. I wonder if he'll sit next to me; the couch I'm on is huge.
Edward laughs. "No need to be sorry. I'm just glad I was there to help you."
"But…the club. Surely you had other plans for after."
"Oh." He pauses a moment, scratching his chin. He moves to sit next to me on the couch and I exhale in relief. I curl my legs closer to my body, but his hand moves to rest on my ankle above the blanket. "I wasn't at the club to play; I just needed a drink. Long week."
"I've never been to a place like that before. It was, uh, interesting."
He raises a brow as his gaze lingers over my face. "I'm sorry, but you have the most exquisite blush."
I pull the blanket even higher and slide further underneath.
"Do I make you uncomfortable, Bella?"
Before I can even think, the words tumble out of my mouth. "A little."
He laughs. His brows crinkle as he studies my face and leans away from me.
Without thinking, I lunge forward, my hand leaving the warmth of the blanket to reach out and touch his chest. "Not in a bad way! Like, I'm okay being here with you. I want to be here with you."
He nods and watches intently as I remove my hand from his chest.
"So. What did you find interesting about the club?" I feel his fingers tracing a pattern around my exposed ankle.
I look past him, my eyes focused on the reflection of the moonlight against the walls, contemplating my answer. A beat passes. "Everyone just seemed so free? No one gave…"
He laughs, the sound soft and melodic, filling the empty spaces of his loft. "A fuck?"
I snort and cover my face with my hands. "I mean, it was hot to sit there and watch it, but I don't know if I could do that."
Edward's brow furrows at my response. "Do what?"
I squirm. "I don't know. Like…not give a fuck."
"Do you give too much of a fuck?" He leans forward and brushes a strand of my hair away from my face.
"Maybe? I've never let someone touch me in public like that."
"Do you want to?"
It comes out in a whisper. "Maybe?"
... EDWARD ...
Bella nestles herself into the corner of the couch. The ice pack is no longer cool against her bruised thigh. I'm gentle as I slip my hand under the blanket and remove it. Her pink tongue pokes out and moistens her lip, and her legs shift back and forth from my slight touch. She sighs, and I have to stop myself from staring. I'm fixated on her heart-shaped face and the line between her furrowed brows as she sleeps. She's all creamy milk skin, pink cheeks, and soft lips.
I lean back against the pillows and admire her. My brows crinkle as I recall her shyness, her hands moving back and forth over one another as she spoke, the slight breathlessness to her voice, and the ever-blooming blush that seeped across the expanse of her chest. The vision replays in my mind, again and again. I harden at the memory of her red lips, bruising as her teeth toyed with the skin. The keening sound that escaped her mouth when my hands grazed her thigh. So unprofessional on my part, yet it felt so right. The woman asleep on my couch presented herself as so shy, so demure, yet also so curious. Could she want to broaden her horizons? Live a little and let loose?
She's a puzzle I want to solve.
... BELLA ...
When my eyes first open, I'm disoriented. I blink rapidly, taking in my surroundings and suck in a breath, remembering where I am. The events of last night flicker across my mind like photographs. My stomach flips and embarrassment seeps through my skin when I realize I must have fallen asleep. Did he think I found him boring?
Covering my face with my hands, I peek through my fingers and watch the sun rising. The room fills with the most stunning glow as the city wakes up. My side throbs, and I wince as I move upright. Stretching, I stand on my tiptoes and spin around. I stop mid-turn. His bedroom door is open, and I see him sleeping, hand thrown over his head, bundled in blankets.
The clock on his nightstand reads 7:45am. Plenty of time to get home and spot Mrs. Cope, the apartment building manager, having her morning coffee. I'll be able to get a spare key from her and get into the apartment.
I spot my bag on the kitchen island and my shoes by the door. I search blindly for some paper and a pen, murmuring a quiet yes when my hands find a receipt and a pen. I scribble - Thank you for taking care of me x Bella.
I stop for a moment and consider leaving my phone number.
Don't ruin it.
I draw over the x one more time and place it under a glass of water on the edge of the island.
... EDWARD ...
Thank you for taking care of me x Bella.
I trace the pen over her name twice before tossing it across the counter. Agitated, I push my hands through my hair, pulling at the nape of my neck. Had I frightened her off?
Sitting at the barstool, I replay our conversation, but I can't come across anything untoward.
Jumping off the stool, I walk towards the couch, picking up the blanket she was wrapped in just hours earlier. The cashmere slinks through my hands like water as I move it back and forth, back and forth.
I lift the fabric up to my face and inhale: flowers, sugar, chocolate, and a hint of cigarette. I groan, the blanket dropping to my feet.
I can't believe she left!
... BELLA...
It's been two weeks, and I can't stop thinking about him. I press the heels of my hands into my forehead and groan in frustration. I've considered going to his loft, but that's too weird. So this is how I've ended up in the back of an Uber on the way to the club.
I arrive just after 9:30 and find myself under the same shop-front canopy. I light a stale cigarette. I need to kill the frantic energy that's running through me. I'm wearing the same skirt as last time, but I've opted for a black turtleneck on top. It covers my raging blush. I can already feel it seeping across my skin.
I suck what's left of the cigarette. The smoke burns as I inhale. I feel dirty as I butt it under my shoe, but shake it off as I walk down the alleyway to the side door. I make polite small talk with the door girl. She snaps the same colored wristband to my wrist as my previous visit, then offers to fix the mask over my eyes. I tilt my head and let her. "Have fun," she murmurs as I walk past her and head inside.
An hour passes and the space is heaving. I haven't spotted him and know there is no guarantee he will even be here. Regardless, the visual and sensory overload is making me hot and horny. Never would I have imagined feeling so alive in a place like this.
I walk the long corridor Rose came out of the last time we were here. A woman wearing an outfit similar to mine is being eaten out as she leans against the wall. She grinds on someone's face – I can't tell who or what – their head and shoulders buried underneath her skirt. She's so loud, her noises float above the music. I mumble an apology when I find myself staring, our eyes locking. She laughs and winks, her hand going down to the obscured body beneath her skirt, pushing them further in.
I turn a corner and find myself in another room. This space is more lit up than the corridor I was in before. I can't even see his face clearly, but I just know. I know it's him. He leans against the wall, his hands buried in a faceless woman's hair, guiding her mouth over him. He looks almost gentle at first, fingertips caressing the strands of hair, but then he's yanking her ponytail and she's taking everything, all of him. My eyes widen at how graphic it is. She stops and leans back on her heels, removing him from her mouth with a pop.
I'm staring, slack-jawed, my eyes drawn to his cock. Jesus Christ, even shadowed in darkness I can see it's huge. The woman on her knees turns her head and makes eye contact with me; she giggles. "I didn't tell you to stop." His voice is firm as he grabs her by the chin. A moment of fear flashes across her eyes. She takes him back in her mouth, and when I try to turn on my heel, it's like moving in sand. Finally I'm moving and just as my head turns, he looks at me. Everything freezes.
"Bella?"
My rapid breathing gets my feet moving as I make a beeline out of the room and down the corridor. Static fills my vision as I push through the swarming crowd that fills the main area.
His voice rings through my ears. I have to go, have to get out. The fabric of my turtleneck itches and I find myself clawing at my collar bones, agitated and flustered as I finally reach the exit.
I shudder as I step into the cold air, stopping for a moment. I rummage through my bag to find my phone and book an Uber. Coming here was so stupid. What did I expect to find, him sitting at the bar waiting for me? My heels click beneath me as I open the app, and begin walking out of the dark alleyway.
"Bella. Wait!" His voice echoes in the darkness.
I stop but don't turn around. I'm almost too embarrassed to face him.
"Hey. Stop. Please." His hand rests on my shoulder blade, fingertips hot against the fabric of my turtleneck. Their imprint burns into my skin. Gently he turns my body to face him. "This wasn't exactly the way I wanted to run into you again."
I still don't look at him, my eyes fixed firmly on the slick wet concrete below. "It was stupid of me. I'm sorry for interrupting you."
His hand drifts down my arm, fingers barely grazing my side. "Can we talk somewhere? Come back inside?"
I take a step back. Part of me desperately wants to go inside, wants to be on my knees for him, and the other is shocked at running into him again like that.
He reads my hesitation as his hand reaches for me again. "Thursday. 7pm. Come to my loft. I'm out of town for work the next few days, but I'll be back mid-week. Please."
... EDWARD ...
Fuck, this conference is dull. I sigh and lean back into my seat, tapping the cap of my pen against my lip. The presenter drones on as I run my other hand through my hair, recalling the events of the weekend.
Bella, Bella, Bella.
Finding her way back to me at the worst possible moment.
Hopeful and horny, I had ventured back to the club Sunday night, wristband fitted firmly against my wrist. I'd been back most nights since she disappeared like a ghost from my apartment. I had no interest in playing, the wristband always firmly attached to my right hand. I was just desperately hoping to find her again.
I sat agitated on the couch, one hand scrolling my phone, the other tugging at my hair. Running into her again almost felt impossible at this point. I played our encounter in my apartment again and again. Could that pull I felt between us have been one-sided?
A pale imitation of Bella approached me, rosy pink lips and long brown hair. Her hopeful smile turned downwards the moment she noticed the band around my wrist.
Fuck it. I need to get off. I need her off my mind.
"Oh, I'm sorry." The words were barely out of her mouth before I had ripped off the wristband and took her cold, petite hand in mine.
... BELLA ...
The days blend into one another, and before too long it's Thursday evening and I'm standing outside of Edward's loft.
The large door slides open before I can even lift my hand to knock. Edward stands before me in loose fitting Levi's and a black T-shirt. He's barefoot, and a tiny sliver of skin peeks out above the band of his jeans as he leans against the door frame.
"Hi." The words come out in a squeak and my insides flip at the softness of his smile.
Taking a step back, he gestures for me to walk inside. "I'm so glad you came. You had me worried there."
I study the lines of his back through his T-shirt as I follow him.
Turning to face me, he inhales loudly. "Please understand that the way you found me the other night was the worst possible way. I'd been at the club most nights over the last two weeks, hoping you'd decide to 'not give a fuck' and show up again. Then, the one night you do come, I'm getting…well, you know…"
I snort. "So, do you often go there to…you know?"
Edward runs a hand through his hair, pulling at the nape of his neck. He winces as the words leave my mouth.
I scrub a hand down my face. "Sorry, that was inappropriate. We don't even really know each other, and I probably don't need to know the answer to that."
"No, it's fine. It's just…with my job, it's hard to meet people and establish relationships. The club has been a way for me to find release when I need it. I'm not a regular by any means, but I have gone occasionally when I need to…scratch the itch," he says, unfazed.
"So why am I here?"
Edward walks towards me in slow motion, the sound of his feet padding against the floor ringing through my ears. He stops in front of me. We stand toe to toe, his hand reaching out to caress the hem of my sweater. "Because I want you to be."
I shiver at his touch. My eyes flutter open and closed.
"Why are you here, Bella?"
Tell him what you want. Tell him you want to go back. Tell him you want him.
"I want you to take me to the club."
...
We sit side by side on the velvet couch, our wrists naked. I fidget with my mask, arranging it to press firmly against my nose. Edward's fingers tap out a pattern on my arm and my body buzzes with every tap, tap, tap. I'm dying for him to touch me. I squirm, my thighs rubbing against one another.
"You okay?"
I nod, running my teeth across my bottom lip.
"Do you want to go?"
I shake my head.
"Do you want me to touch you?"
I nod. The minute his hand drifts down my shoulder to cup my breast, all the air escapes me and I melt, my body relaxing even further into the couch, my eyes fluttering closed.
"Open them. I want you to watch."
I open my eyes and stare as Edward pushes down the strap of my camisole, exposing my lacy black bra. My head moves to look around, to see if anyone is looking at us, but gently he guides my face back to focus directly on him.
"Don't worry about them. Focus on me."
I nod, my eyes locking with his. I gasp when I feel his hand slide inside the lace of my bra and he palms my hot flesh.
"You're so soft."
My head lolls to the side. I'm throbbing. Everywhere. Edward's fingers toy with my nipple, and I sigh into the new feeling of his hot open mouth against my other breast. He grunts softly, his hands and mouth devouring me. I squeeze my thighs together, desperate for friction. Pushing my body against him, I guide him to sink back into the chair and crawl over and onto his lap. His mouth and hand never leave my breasts, his eyes only looking up to me once.
Checking in.
"I want you to fuck me."
Edward's mouth makes its way up to my ear. "Later," he murmurs.
In one swift motion, we're chest to chest, and I'm melting back into the couch. "And not here." I involuntarily squeal as his body slinks down mine once more, his mouth focused on my exposed breasts as his hand slides between my thighs.
I'm hyper-aware of his finger grazing the zipper of my jeans. My heart races as he moves back and forth, back and forth, pressing exactly in the right spot. My clit throbs with every pass. My arousal swirls, and I'm so dizzy on this moment, on him.
It feels so good to not give a fuck.
"What was that, sweetheart?" Edward stops stroking me and lifts his face to rest between my breasts.
"Oh my god. Did I say that out loud?" My hands shoot up to cover my face, but too quickly he's caught my wrists.
"Now that you don't give a fuck, how about I get you back to my loft to…take a fuck?" He smirks, his mouth leaving a trail of hot kisses up across my collar bone and into the curve of my neck.
Throwing my head back, I chant. "Yes, yes, yes."
... EDWARD ...
We don't make it to the bedroom. We barely make it through the door. Moments after entering the loft, I have Bella bent over the kitchen counter. Her head is turned and she babbles about the view, the way the light from the buildings twinkles across the night sky, the reflection of the moon against the glass of the loft window.
"If you like the view so much, how about I fuck you in front of the window?" I growl into her neck, smacking her ass gently.
"Please," she whimpers.
... BELLA ...
I'm on Edward's lap, hands pressed against the cool glass of the window. He's on his knees under me as I rock back and forth against him, his cock buried deep inside me. I'm so full, it hurts in the best possible way. I pout every time he pulls out, missing the friction and the weight of him, only to then gasp when he slams back in.
"Fuck, you're tight," he grunts into my neck, his hands splayed across my stomach.
My sweaty forehead is pressed against the glass, and I stare out into the night sky.
"Fuck. Feels so good," I groan, not caring that I sound delirious and high on lust, on him.
"What feels good?" Edward drags my body against him, folding further back onto his knees. Our bodies slide against each other, skin slick with sweat.
My hands and forehead leave the window and I suck in a breath before responding. "You."
He knocks the air out of me with the force of his thrust. I watch his reflection. He leans back, cocking his head, urging me on. He wants me to take more control, wants me to fuck him. "Be more specific," he grits out. His hand moves to pull at my hair, and my head tilts back, resting against his. His hand clasped tightly around my hair stings, but I like that it hurts. I wonder if anyone can see us out there, if anyone is watching.
"C'mon, baby. What feels so good? Tell me." He releases my hair, his hand moving to pinch and twist at my nipple.
As he urges me on, I lift myself up and down, finding a rhythm. Our bodies smack against one another, and I have to stop and push the hair from my face, stuck to my skin from sweat.
"Fucking you," I grunt out, desperate for release. "Fucking you feels good." My body bounces and my thighs burn as I ride him.
He hums behind me, whispering in my ear. "Fucking me and what?"
"Not giving a fuck."