Good morning!

Real quick, before we get started, I need to do a PSA. Please do not send me accusatory messages if there is a delay in chapter updates. Instead, check my Facebook page (link is in my profile) to find out why things are delayed, as I usually give a reason there. As for yesterday, by the time FFN came back online, I was on my way to work. I can't update stories from the middle of an emergency room, Sorry.

I can guarantee I am not forgetting to update. Something else is going on.

Now, let's jump back into Edward and Bella's night together!


BPOV

Never once has a man demanded a blow job from me.

Asked? Yes. Hinted? Too many times to count.

But demanded?

I should be appalled. I should be strong and independent, not submit to his whims. I should slap him across the face and leave.

But, holy hell, he's turning me on.

So, I scramble up, eager to please him the way he did me. I'm wobbly. My bones have turned to mush. Who knew that being forced not to move while being feasted on could produce such an intense orgasm?

Edward Cullen did.

I do my best not to think about how he knows these things, how many other women have been in his bed, while I sink my knees into his plush carpet and lick my lips.

Under heavy lids, deep jade appraises me in a way that sends tingles over my skin. I'm wanted, desired. Despite this man's power, charisma, and ability to bed any number of willing women, he chose me.

He unbuttons his shirt while I wait impatiently, itching to reach out and help discard his clothing. But I don't think I'm allowed to do that. While his spanks on my ass and my pussy sent electric pulses rushing through my core, I'm afraid the next punishment might delay my introduction to the impressive appendage housed in his trousers.

Peeling away his button-down, he reveals defined pecs and cut abs—saliva pools in my mouth at his powerful physique. I want to taste him, lick across every hard plane of his body. His biceps bunch and flex with his movement, and his broad shoulders team with muscle. When he roughly rips at his belt buckle, unlatching it in a swift flick of his wrists, my vision is drawn to the deep V that dips below his waist. My jaw drops in wonder as his zipper lowers, and I get a hint of the prize waiting for me.

Through his black boxer briefs, the outline of his erect penis is clear. The impressive length makes my thighs clench in preparation. The man is sporting the kind of appendage I thought only existed in pornos. The girth is intimidating, making me shiver in anticipation of being stretched wide to accommodate the circumference. I gulp and scoot backward, suddenly second-guessing my sexual prowess. I have zero experience with men as well-endowed as Edward.

"It doesn't bite," he chuckles, his slacks gone and his palm running roughly along his length. "Come closer."

If I don't, I'll probably get spanked for insubordination, so I crawl toward him on my knees until I'm inches from the python waiting to be released.

"Touch." His hand drops away with his demand, a tent forming in his underwear with precum dotting the fabric.

Tentative at first, I stroke along the head, his cock twitching in approval. More brazen and aiming to please, I rub my hand along the shaft.

Edward hisses through his teeth before catching my hands in his firm grip and dragging them to the waistband of his boxers. His voice is full of gravel and promise when he orders me to "Take them off."

I do as I'm told, stretching the fabric to pass over his engorged head.

And I'm stunned into silence.

His penis is glorious. Thick and long, skin flushed with the blood that has him hard as stone. Subtle veins travel his shaft, leading to the head. My fingers trail the path they follow, reveling in the silkiness of his skin.

"Are you playing, Mia Bella, or are you going to take my cock in your mouth like a good girl?"

Hooded eyes demand more than a simple touch, but how do you please a man who may not fit inside any part of you?

My lips roll between my teeth, and I shake my head. "It's too big. I don't think you will fit." I look up from his waist to find an amused smirk on his face. My trepidation has done nothing but feed his ego.

"Open up, Bambina." Baby. In Italian. The foreign language rolls off his tongue like velvet.

I weigh my options. I could stand up, collect what's left of my dignity, run, and spend the rest of my time at La Bellissima thinking about what could have been. Or I can open up wide and give him the chance to teach me the kind of erotic things I've only read about in romance novels.

I have no choice but to give in to his request.

My jaw drops open, and I stick out my tongue to cover my bottom teeth. He curses something I don't understand, a mixture of Italian and English, then fists his dick and guides it toward my waiting mouth.

The tip slides against my tastebuds, salty with early ejaculate. I close my lips around the protruding head and swirl my tongue. His guttural moan indicates I've done something right.

"Take more." He fists my hair, guiding me forward until I engulf half of him, and my jaw is stretched so wide it aches. I pat his leg, pulling back, in need of a break. He sighs in disappointment but allows me a reprieve while I catch my breath and rub my jaw.

"Fix what you need to because I won't stop again," he scolds. My pulse pounds. This man is a challenge I'm not sure I can accept.

But fuck me. I'm going to try.

I suck in a final breath and return to my position, on my knees opening wide and inviting him to fuck my mouth how he sees fit. His hands settle in my hair, twisting and pulling until the roots sting, and he has complete command. He slides into the back of my throat with a deep thrust, making my eyes water.

Focusing on relaxing, I fight off my gag reflex and concentrate on massaging his shaft with my tongue as he pulls out. At first, he takes long strokes, so I have time for short breaths before he fills me again. As I settle into his rhythm, I release my grip on his thigh and allow one of my hands to travel to the base of his penis, wrapping around the inches that refuse to slide past my lips.

"Look at me, Mia Bella. I want to watch your face while you enjoy sucking me off." His command is dirty, the request foreign. The men in my past were docile in bed compared to Edward, requesting simple things like faster strokes or having me on top during the act.

It's impossible to deny him. My eyes connect with his hungry gaze. A moan rips from my chest, vibrating around him as he pauses with his tip pressed on the back of my tongue. When my instinct forces me to swallow around him, his head rolls back, and a groan of ecstasy fills the air.

Confident I'm meeting his expectations, I pick up speed, my head bobbing in time with his thrusts. I remember the advice I got once upon a time during girl talk in a rehearsal dressing room. Men want attention paid to their balls. Removing my hand from his shaft, I cup his sac in my fingers and massage gently. His answer of "Fucking Christ!" has me working hard to keep my lips taut as I fight off a grin.

My hips rock as my arousal grows and moisture collects between my legs. Having a penis roughly shoved down my throat shouldn't be pleasurable, and I know I'll be sore when I leave this penthouse later tonight. But the way Edward's eyes devour the sight in front of him, and his hips begin to hitch erratically, makes me ache to feel him pulsing inside my core.

Edward's words come out in a feral growl when he warns, "You're gonna earn my cum, baby."

I choke and gag on a whimper, my focus shifting to my own need at his filthy promise. He doesn't slow, thrusting in faster and deeper, my control disappearing as I do anything I can to catch my breath and keep myself from pushing away. When I hit my limit, sure I cannot take any more, he fists my hair with a bruising grip and pulls me so close to his base that my nose brushes against his pelvis. A guttural roar ricochets through the room as he begins to pulse, hot streams of semen spurting against the sensitive interior of my throat. On instinct, I swallow convulsively, drinking each drop.

"Holy fuck." He's gasping for breath as he pulls out of me and collapses against his bed. His torso falls back, hands resting on his stomach, chest rising and falling with his breathless pants.

I'm a mess; dark lines of makeup leak beneath my eyes, and spit collects on my chin. But I'm so self-satisfied I can't muster the effort to care about how Edward has wrecked me. I spot a tissue on his nightstand and retrieve it, doing my best to fix my appearance before climbing on the bed. Unclear as to what he wants next and weary of acting without his approval, I tuck my legs underneath me to sit on my heels and wait.

"That was…" A breathy chuckle passes through his lips. "You did well, Bella." His head rolls lazily to the side, green eyes bright with satisfaction as they scan my naked form. "But I'm not done with you yet."

The "I know" that squeaks out of me has him laughing as he traces a finger along my side. Thighs rubbing together, I seek relief for my swollen center. He has me so desperately wanting that I'm ready to agree to any term he sets forth.

"I told you, Bellissima." He pushes himself up, palm slapping against my knee, causing me to still. His jaw sets as he leans close and lifts my chin. "Only I give you pleasure."

He claims authority by grasping my inner thighs and ripping them apart until I'm spread wide, vulnerable to whatever he plans next. I'm drunk on a euphoric high when he takes my clit between two fingers and pinches, then rolls.

"You like that, baby?" His lips brush mine while his fingers work. The length of his cock grows harder against my hip.

"God, yes!" Waves of hair cascade down my bare back as I tilt my head to the sky. I'm rocketing through the air, climbing into bliss from his touch.

Suddenly, nothing but cool air is hitting my scorched skin. I seek Edward out, nearly crying when I find him climbing from the bed and heading toward his closet.

Are we done? Would he leave us both wanting more?

I scramble up, halting when he turns. Caught on my hands and knees, I cower at the furious glare sent my way.

"Stay," he barks. Disappearing momentarily before returning with a belt in one hand and a silk tie in the other.

"No. No, no, no." I scoot toward the headboard, horrified at the implication of punishment.

I will not be spanked with a belt. No matter how delicious the man is at the other end of the leather strap. Except maybe, if he doesn't hit too hard...

"I'm not going to whip you, Bella." His promise is soft as he reaches out and strokes a finger down my cheek. "There are punishments for misbehavior, but they are meant to enhance pleasure. Both yours and mine."

"Oh." The heat that rolls over my face and chest has Edward smirking before he traces his tongue along the reddened flesh.

"You blush," he remarks, the belt draped in one palm as his other hand collects my wrists and holds my arms above my head.

I fight the urge to squirm, realizing I will be detained. Being tied up is new for me. With the expert way he swoops the leather strap through the bedframe and around my wrists, I think he's far more experienced in the act.

Admiring his work, he pinches my taut nipples and has the audacity to ask, "Are you comfortable?"

I balk despite the unrelenting tingle radiating from my center. A sensation that I know can only be satiated by him. "I'm tied up."

"You are." He grins, cocky and sure of himself, as he lifts the blood-red tie he collected from his closet. "I feel generous after that blow job, so you can choose. Gag or blindfold?"

"What?" My hands tug against the belt, making it cut into my wrists, and the bed frame's metal clanks together. The silky fabric slides between his fingers while he waits for my answer.

Gag or blindfold? Is he serious? My mobility is already compromised. Is that not enough?

My mouth drops open as I stutter an incoherent answer, and a devilish grin dances across Edward's face. His tongue runs across his lower lip before he says, "Gag it is."

"What? No!" But it's too late. His tie's cool, smooth fabric rests between my teeth as he knots it behind my head.

"Fucking beautiful. You're my wet dream come true, Mia Bella. How is it that you're just now entering my life?" His knuckles stroke my face. The tender caress mixed with his words calm my panic. "I'm going to make you feel good, Bellissima, but I will not be gentle."

I inhale sharply through my nose, intrigued and apprehensive all at once. The belt around my wrists tightens as I clench, preparing myself for the onslaught of sensations.

"If I go too far…" He swallows hard, jaw ticking and eyes darting away. "You yell three times, and we will be done."

"Yyy wll stp?" I attempt to speak through the gag, only to have him chuckle and shake his head.

"You don't think I can stop, do you?" He surmises. I shake my head no. After the blow job he demanded, I don't see how he can control his urges. "I have immense willpower, Bellissima. A man like me has to. Otherwise, the carnage would be catastrophic."

Having no idea what he means, my brows scrunch together in question, but he doesn't give me time to ruminate over his words before he grips my calves and pulls my body taut.

He lifts one of my ankles to his mouth, placing an open mouth kiss on the inside. "Now, Mia Bella, I noticed something about you on stage last night." His lips trail up my calf toward the back of my knee, where his tongue darts out and flicks the delicate skin. "You're able to get your body into tantalizing positions." Brows raised, his eyes lock on mine as if he's challenging me to prove him wrong. But we both know I will prove him right.

Accepting his dare, I stretch my raised leg and push it toward my head until I'm in a wide split. It's brazen and bold, and I have no idea where I learned to play with fire, but God, I love the burn.

Edward's hand grasps my calf, pushing and holding my leg higher. A growl reverberates in his heaving chest, sending chills over my skin.

"I'm going to fuck you now, Bellissima. Hold on."

My pussy clenches, terrified of being penetrated with his girth and length but impatient to be filled to the brim. I grasp the belt's leather, knowing he wasn't being facetious when he warned me to "hold on."

With one hand on my leg, he braces himself on the mattress with the other. I whimper when the tip of his cock nudges against my folds. Soaked with arousal, I'm beyond ready for him physically, but mentally, I'm not at all.

"Breathe, Bella. You have to relax, or I won't fit inside you," he murmurs in my ear, his tongue soothing as it traces down my neck.

I pull deep breaths through my nose, close my eyes, and concentrate on releasing my tense pelvic muscles. I'm an expert on pushing my body to its limits. I can do this—take all of him and let him guide me through the most erotic night of my life.

He grunts as he lines himself up and pushes his tip between my slick folds. "That's it, baby. Let yourself spread for me."

I take more breaths in and out, relieving more tension. His hips rut forward, inches of his length penetrating my core.

Moaning, my head thrashes to the side. My walls stretch around him, bringing a sexual fulfillment I never imagined. Each inch is bliss and torture, a promise to leave me ruined for all other men.

Voice strained, he tells me, "Almost there. You're taking me so well, Bella. Do you know how fucking good your tight cunt feels gripping my cock? Another inch, baby. Can you do it?"

"Yss!" My strangled voice calls out as my hips roll, fighting between inviting him in and pushing him away. The sensations are too much, and the pressure is almost painful, but the pleasure overrides everything else. I shudder when I feel his thick tip press against my cervix and his pelvis flush against mine. To my horror, my eyes water, and a single tear escapes, rolling down my face.

"You're okay," Edward promises, kissing away the moisture. "I'm going to let you adjust. There is a lot of me to take for the first time."

I nod in agreement because, more than anything, I need a moment to control the rush of emotions rolling through me. This interlude should be nothing but sex, a release. That's what I planned for. But there's an undercurrent of more sparking between us that scares the hell out of me.

My body gives, making room for his intrusion, and suddenly, I ache for the thrusting of intercourse. Rocking my hips, I try to send him the message. It's time to move.

When he pulls back to read my expression, his smile stretches wide, and his hips begin to move. Inch by torturous inch, he drags himself out of me. My back arches, breasts lifting, the emptiness he leaves making me crave being filled by him again.

And, thank the Lord, the man doesn't make me wait. The scream that rips from me when he bucks forward hard, impaling me for a second time, originates from surprise, not discomfort.

"You like that?" He asks, rhythm growing as he uses his whole body to fuck me. Muscles I can't name ripple in his chest while I feel his legs and core tense with each penetrating thrust.

I'm doing my best to keep up with his pattern as he pounds into me, hard and deep. Despite my good physical shape, I am no match for him. The question of how he keeps himself so fit crosses my mind briefly until he rubs against the perfect place inside me, making me cry out.

"Yeah? That the right spot?" He grunts, angling himself so that the head of his dick continues to hit me exactly right with each inward stroke.

As he drops my leg, he guides it to curl around his glutes. Without stopping the rutting of his hips, he pushes his torso up and wraps his hands around my ass. Lifting me, he settles on his heels, holding my pelvis over his thighs. Only my shoulders remain on the mattress. My breasts bounce towards my chin, catching his focus as he chases after our orgasms.

Jesus, I've climbed into bed with some sort of sexual prodigy. The new angle has him rubbing the sensitive spot inside me with each pass of his cock. Nerves in my abdomen tingle, and my muscles tighten as my arms strain against their restraint.

I'm so close it's torture. All I need is a little touch, a stroke of a finger on my clit, and I will explode.

Sweat drips down his brow. His chaotic hair falls over his forehead, framing the dark swirls of green in his eyes. His jaw ticks, and his nostrils flare as his movement hitches in the telltale sign that he's close to coming.

"You need to come, Bella. I need to feel your pussy pulse around me when I spill inside you," he orders, and I moan, delirious with sensations that have me close to the edge. I tug on my restraint and squeeze my ass, lifting my pussy toward him, hoping he understands what I need.

I shouldn't be surprised when he breaks out in a sly smirk. Of course, he knows exactly what I want. He's the kind of lover that women write novels about, the kind that stars in your fantasies, the kind you never recover from.

He wraps one forearm around my waist, keeping me lifted, and places the palm of his other hand flat against the skin below my belly button. "So sexy." He flicks at the jewel in my navel before his thumb dips to the bundle of nerves I'm yearning for him to touch. He places the sweetest pressure on my clit, making me cry out in ecstasy. He circles his thumb, pounding into me so hard I know I'll be aching for days.

An electric burn erupts deep in my core, radiating through my limbs as my muscles tighten. Suddenly, a flood of endorphins rushes through my every vein and capillary, bringing me an all-consuming release. I come so hard I stop breathing, shocked at the intensity of my orgasm.

"Fuck!" Edward roars from above me. With his final thrust, I can focus on nothing but the rolling waves of pleasure caused by him pulsing deep inside me. In my incoherent state, I have the passing thought that if I weren't on birth control, this would be the kind of sex that would knock me up on the first try.

Edward's weight pins me to the mattress as he slumps on top of me, spent. My urge is to wrap my arms around his shoulders and stroke his hair while he's drunk on bliss.

But my hands are, quite literally, tied.

That's a good thing because this was just sex. Nothing more. And holding a man in my arms, taking care of him after he's spent himself through an orgasm, that's not something you do when it's just sex.

He begins to move, his hand pushing on the sheets near my shoulder as he relieves me of some of his weight. "I'm crushing you, aren't I?"

I shrug, averting my eyes. Edward Cullen post orgasm is a sight that should be outlawed. He's gorgeous, with flushed skin, a satiated gaze, and swollen lips. No woman could deny him anything.

"Here, let me…" He reaches overhead, unhooking the belt from my wrists and allowing it to drop to the floor. Next is my gag, which he unties and flings across the bed. I drop my shoulders and swallow normally for the first time since he placed his silk tie in my mouth.

"I think I ruined your tie," I apologize, realizing my saliva covers the expensive fabric.

He laughs, rolling to the side, finally breaking our connection. "I'm hardly worried about a tie, Bella."

"Still." Catching my lip between my teeth, I'm becoming very aware that I am naked and dripping with the aftermath of our activities. "Um, do you have a bathroom?"

"Yeah. Of course. Right in there." He points across the wide expanse of his bedroom to a door on the far wall. I give a slight smile in thanks before climbing off the bed.

It's awkward, knowing his eyes are following me as I hurry to the safety of his bathroom. Once inside, I lock the door and flip on the light. I spot a rack across the room and rush over to grab a plush white towel and wrap it around myself. After taking care of business and cleaning myself up, I find myself standing in front of one of Edward's two sinks, struggling to recognize the woman in the mirror.

Nothing about me should be different than it was two hours ago. I'm still Bella, the ex-ballerina turned showgirl trying to keep her life from splintering apart.

But the gold flecks in my eyes shine, dancing with a hope I haven't felt in eighteen months. My flushed skin gives me a glow my friends would envy. For the first time in over a year, I look alive.

Edward Cullen's dick must have magical properties.

I snort, throwing my hand over my mouth to cover the noise. I am officially delirious. It's time to say "Goodnight, thank you for the sex. Have a nice life."

My stomach twists because the idea of never having another opportunity to be in Edward's bed makes me sick.

But both of us knew what this was—one night. We hardly know each other. Cutting ties and moving on shouldn't be a problem. It won't be for him. He got his one off with a showgirl, something he can cross off his bucket list, and now he'll move on to his next conquest. I should count my blessings that I got to sample him at all.

With a towel wrapped tightly around my frame, I crack the bathroom door and peek into the bedroom. I'm relieved when soft snoring meets me, and I find Edward fast asleep in the middle of his bed.

Quickly, I gather my things, ignoring my ripped panties but picking my shoes up from where they landed on the floor. I let out a soft curse after realizing my dress and bra were in the living room. With a final glance behind me, I memorize the beauty of Edward's naked body before I slip out the door and into the hallway.

I was upside down and dizzy with lust when Edward first carried me through his penthouse, so it takes a few minutes to find the living room. Quickly, I hook on my bra and step into my torn dress. I have to keep my arm squeezed to my side to hold it up since Edward split a seam at the top. I haphazardly tie on my shoes, not caring whether the laces look remotely even, gather my phone and casino winnings from where I dropped them on a side table, and beeline to the front entrance.

I twist the handle on the door only to find it will not open without scanning a key card. Who the hell needs a key card to get out of a penthouse?

Oh, shit. The elevator I have to take downstairs also requires a keycard, and so does the door that will lead me to the casino lobby.

My eyes dart around the open space, searching for the stupid key. The side table at the entrance is, of course, bare except for a decorative vase. The black leather couches in the living room have nothing but throw pillows, and a few books cover the coffee table.

Desperate, I retreat further into the house, scouring the kitchen next. Biting hard on my lip, I stop myself from screaming out in joy when I find a shiny black and gold card inside a drawer. I pray that, for once, I'm lucky, and it's what I need.

I'm back at the front door in seconds, cringing when the alarm attached to it beeps and announces, "Front door." Not waiting to find out if I've awoken Edward, I close the door behind me and stumble-run to the elevator.

It dings open as if it's been waiting for me. I jump in and push the button for the first floor five times until the doors finally close. Nearly hyperventilating, I slump against the wall.

Jesus, Bella. Get a grip!

It's not like the guy I fucked once will come chasing after me to drag me to his cave and hold me captive. It was a one-night stand. I've got to get over myself.

Groaning, I let my head fall against the cool, mirrored interior of the elevator. With my adrenaline waning, exhaustion seeps into my bones. I understand how Edward passed out so quickly. Apparently, good sex renders you useless.

When I hit the ground floor, I force my feet to move. Thankfully, the keycard works on the lobby door. I join the crowd on the casino floor, getting lost among the other girls trying to return to their rooms from a night out. The theater is locked, so I find an employee entrance for a restaurant kitchen and push through. I have to dodge a couple of busboys as I turn left to get to the employee hallways, but I make it through without a collision, and I'm soon on the backstage stairs.

My bag is exactly where I left it, with no signs of anyone digging through it. Relieved, I sling it over my shoulder, more than ready to get to my car and end the night. But a sound coming from stage right stops me.

I call out a "Hello?" as I step around the backdrop and into the dim lighting.

A woman's silhouette freezes in center stage as if I've caught her in a devious act. Squinting, I try to make out details of her face when she asks, "Bella?"

"Angela?" I take tentative steps forward. "What are you doing here?"

"Uh, I should ask you the same question." She cocks a brow as she glances over my torn dress, ruined makeup, and ruffled hair. Reaching up, I comb my fingers through my locks before my eyes drop to the ground in embarrassment. Yeah, I'm doing what it looks like I'm doing the—-walk of shame.

"I had a date," I mumble.

"Yeah, me too." She grins, highlighting her smeared lipstick. When I take the time to scrutinize, I realize her hair looks just as bad as mine. At least her dress is intact.

Her eyes squeeze closed, and my brows rise when heavy footsteps emerge behind the wings. A male voice calls, "Angela, baby, you out here?" And suddenly, I don't feel like as much of a slut, knowing Angela is in the same position I am.

"Uh, yeah," she calls back to the man approaching us. "Uh, Ben, this is Bella." Her tanned skin reddens in a blush, and I have to bite my tongue to keep from teasing her about it.

"Hi," I say when her counterpart steps close enough to see. He's cute in a boy-next-door kind of way. He gives the impression he's the type of guy you can trust and bring home to meet your parents. I hold out my hand to shake his, forgetting the trapped keycard between my fingers.

Ben's brows dip when he spots the offending object. "Where did you get that?"

"Oh. Um…" Noticing the dark suit he wears and security earpiece, I fumble, nearly dropping the card, before placing it behind my back. Good. I'm not being suspicious at all. "A friend lent it to me."

"What friend?" For the boy next door, Ben turns incredibly intimidating when he steps forward and reaches to grab the key out of my hand. "Is this Mr. Cul-"

"Uh, yeah. Would you give it back to him? Thanks." I can't look either of them in the eye as I slap the card into Ben's hand and spin to make a quick, albeit mortifying, escape.

"Bella, wait." With her long legs, Angela only takes a few strides before she catches up with me. Her fingers grasp my elbow as she cuts off my path. "Are you and Mr. Cullen-"

"No," I snap, but I instantly feel horrible. My stupid choices aren't Angela's fault. "I—look, it was one night. It was probably a mistake. Honestly, I tried to resist. He's persistent." My shoulders slump, and my head drops.

Angela squeezes my arm before loosening her grip. "I won't tell anyone, I promise. But the same about Ben, okay? If the other girls find out I'm with a Masoni associate, they'll freak."

"A Masoni associate?" I have no idea what she's talking about.

"Yeah. You know, like Edward Masoni Cullen." Angela's eyes widen at my blank stare, and her jaw drops. "Oh my God. You don't know."

Something in my chest tightens, my ribs aching with each short inhalation. Why am I getting the feeling there is a critical piece of information I'm missing? "Know what?"

"Ang, baby, we gotta go." Ben appears at her side, slipping an arm around her waist and tugging her toward the backstage stairs. "Bella, it was nice to meet you. I'll make sure this key gets to where it's supposed to be." His curious stare makes me curl into myself, wishing I could disappear behind a smoke screen like a magician.

Angela purses her lips but doesn't say more, leaving me with a withering glance as Ben guides her away.

Standing on the empty stage, I release a shuddering breath. My stomach churns as the feeling that I've made a giant mistake settles in my gut.

Who the hell is Edward Cullen?

And why does it feel like tonight might only be the beginning of our story?


A/N: Worth the wait? ;)

See you next week!