Hello, everyone!

Let me just say that I absolutely LOVED your reactions after last week's chapter. The collective meltdown was sublime, haha! I have a feeling this chapter might stir a similar reaction in you ;).

Huge thanks to all of you who take the time to review—reading your comments makes me happy beyond words.

It was a peculiar thing—loving someone so completely and not being able to express it in all the ways that mattered.

In the past few days, I had become somewhat of a master at separating the two things that defined my relationship with Bella: our friendship bond and our mutual agreement to please ourselves together, under the cover of the night.

During daylight, when she was at work, we kept texting each other—there was no thought too insignificant, no story too boring to share. We wanted to know everything there was to know about each other—things we might have missed years ago, things that changed in the meantime, things that stayed the same—and doing it through texting was a pleasantly untraceable method, as long as we were careful.

Remaining vigilant was of utmost importance, since Bella had promised Jacob that she would interrupt contact with me. In the past, she found him snooping into her phone, back when I wasn't even around, so she expected history to repeat itself, now that he had an actual reason to worry. So we never brought our nightly affairs into discussion when we texted; those were matters that we only tackled face to face. As for Bella, she made a habit out of deleting our conversations before she finished her shift—which admittedly hurt, knowing how much they meant to me, but I knew it was for the better.

When the night fell, I was constantly pining and longing, waiting for Bella to sneak out of her house at long last, so that we could get lost into the forest and witness each other's orgasms from a distance for a while. Never facing each other, nor daring to intervene with kisses and touches. But always listening. And always talking. There was so much candid vulnerability in those moments, so much trust… I was grateful for all the lessons I was learning about Bella's mind and body in the process.

For instance, I discovered that she particularly liked it when I talked about how much I wanted to explore her neck with my tongue. Or that if she flicked her clitoris in circles, she could delay her pleasure, resulting in an even more spectacular climax when she finally allowed herself to unravel. And she always went wild when I groaned her name in the midst of my own orgasms—it was as if her senses hit a restart button, because she instantly wanted to repeat it all again, even if we had both finished. Of course, I always stopped after that first round, never going for a second one. It wasn't that I didn't want to—far be it from me to entertain such absurdities. The real issue was that I could see the potential for addiction. If I caved, even once, there would be no end. I wouldn't want to stop ever, so it was only sensible to keep my appetite in check.

Besides, when it came to locking my thirst in the background long enough for us to enjoy each other properly, I couldn't force my self-control more than I already was. My internal fights were tormenting enough without any additional load.

Unsurprisingly, things didn't progress beyond that between me and Bella. As far as she knew, I was merely in lust, just like her. It was a label I was willing to accept, since it was the one label that allowed me to get closer to her than I had ever hoped without actively ruining her future. She would still get married. She would still build a family of her own. I was only a temporary distraction along the way. And I was fine with that, truly, because between keeping my pride intact and offering Bella what she wanted, I knew what made her—and ultimately me—happier.

And she really seemed happy. Even at night, when she was finally in her bed sleeping, I could tell that she was. There was no more fumbling, no more restless sleep, only mysterious sighs of content that escaped her dreams every once in a while.

As expected, Alice became aware of my misdeeds from the very beginning. She called me on the same night when it all started, right after I walked Bella back to her house. It was a short, but poignant conversation.

"You're playing with fire," she warned.

"I know what I'm doing."

"I may not know the exact outcome, since neither of you seem to be set on what exactly it is that you want in the end, but… I know enough to tell you that it will lead to heartbreak. Most likely on both ends."

"Not this time. I'm making sure it won't."

"Edward, if you want her back, I'm sure there are other ways we can think of, if you just—"

"No," I intervened. "She made her choice already and I am not getting in the way of that."

"You sure have got a funny way of not getting in the way," she snickered.

"Just don't tell the rest of our family about it."

"I had no plans to do such a thing. It's too… weird to even try to explain."

And she kept her word.

Esme didn't find out, nor did she have any consistent suspicions. No, my mother thought too highly of me to even take into consideration the highly questionable path I had taken. She was, however, constantly worried. Worried that I was delusional. Worried that I was wasting my time on a pipe dream. Worried that there was nothing that she or Carlisle could say to get me to behave more rationally.

But I was too caught up in my world to entertain any of those worries. My mind was always on Bella—what she was doing, if she was thinking of me, whether her lunch break was relaxing enough, if—like me—she was counting the hours until we could see each other again.

Still, there were moments when all these musings faded, replaced by their darker counterparts. Because when I wasn't wondering what Bella was doing, I was contemplating the decency—or rather lack thereof—of our agreement. Even if she wasn't actively cheating on her fiancé, at least not in the traditional sense, Bella was still offering me a part of herself that should have, in theory, been reserved to him. It wasn't her fault, of course. She couldn't be blamed for the way my absence had carved intimacy issues into her brain, nor for the way my return had caused her sexuality to burst back to life. She was only stumbling through life, working with what she had. I, on the other hand, should have known better.

I should have been the voice of reason.

Instead, I was the root from which sins grew. The old tree of the knowledge of good and evil, but also the serpent that drew Eve in. And now my Bella, more naive than Eve herself, was choosing to eat that goddamn apple again and again.

It was a struggle—trying to rationalize our affair and sculpt it into an acceptable shape. The more I tried to do it, the more tangled the web got. There were always questions I was afraid to answer. One of them was constantly haunting me: was I supposed to feel bad for Jacob? When I tried to put myself in his lucky shoes, the answer seemed simple. Had the roles been reversed and Bella went behind my back to seek release alongside another man, I would have been crushed, to say the least. Trivial details like the fact that he never touched her wouldn't have mattered in such a scenario. My heart would have been dead all the same. So yes, feeling bad for Jacob should have been a given. It was the least I could do, considering the cruel way I acted behind his back.

But then I thought about every instance in which his behaviour towards Bella rubbed me the wrong way—particularly the time when he didn't realize how he blurred the lines of consent until I snapped that goddamn branch—and the answer to my moral debate was even simpler.

Except this time it was a definite no. He didn't deserve my pity. Not even an ounce of it.

I couldn't really discuss these matters with anyone, so I was plagued to ruminate on them alone. Alice was too perplexed by what was happening and too annoyed to listen to my tenets of morality. The rest of my siblings and my parents were blissfully unaware of what was going on, so that wasn't an option either.

And Bella… she was carrying a heavier load than me already, since she was the one with a ring on her finger. Even if she seemed to be at ease—and happy even—with what we were doing, I reckoned that she was probably fighting more internal battles than she was letting on. At the end of the day, she wasn't just deceiving Jacob right before marrying him—she was deceiving him for my sake. Me. The cursed monster who ripped her heart from her chest and stepped all over it, as if it was nothing to me. That alone had to make for a whole new cargo of emotional turmoil for Bella, one that she never allowed me to see.

Needless to say, my headspace was an even more unwelcoming place than usual these days.

It had only been four days since that fatidic night when everything changed—four days during which anguish and joy continued to battle within me for domination. The weekend had been particularly difficult, as the number of texts between me and Bella exponentially dropped, as a result of her being stuck at home and constantly having to cater to Jacob's whims. He was more observant now, but not overly so. He mostly believed the lie—and he didn't have any reasons not to, as he was usually in a deep sleep by the time Bella snuck out.

The newly established routine proved to be more difficult to accomplish on Monday night.

Soon after Bella left work, a light drizzle started to envelop the town. Not long after, the drizzle turned into a downpour. I kept hoping that the dense rain would stop, but it was relentless. I had a feeling that our plans for tonight had to take a back seat. Feeling defeated, I drove my car until I reached a spot far enough from Bella's house, then parked and waited for a sign from her. I was bracing myself for the highly-realistic scenario of her calling off our meeting, trying to convince myself that I could at least watch over her sleep—an action that didn't bring me as close as I wanted to be, but it was a blessing nonetheless.

A little over an hour had passed when my phone buzzed. I grabbed it immediately, almost smashing it in my rush, and opened the new text from her.

'I hope you have your car with you, we're going to need it.'

'I do. But it's pouring, Bella. You should stay inside tonight.'

'Not happening. I want to see you. We can stay in your car.'

I smiled bitterly, a part of me still in disbelief over that second sentence she wrote.

'As you wish then. I'll be waiting for you in front of your house.'

Five minutes later, my car was in Bella's driveway, with the headlights turned off. I heard her tiptoeing close to the entrance door, the sound accompanied by Jacob's snores from upstairs.

My jaw dropped when the door opened and she got out into the storm.

Dressed in sweatpants and a loose camisole, with only a thin cardigan covering her shoulders, she had no protection whatsoever from the rain, save for the short rain boots she chose to wear.

Not caring one bit about the usual charade of keeping up appearances—there were no active humans around, after all—I jumped out of the car, taking off my jacket in the process. I wasted no time; as soon as I was by Bella's side, I placed the jacket on her shoulders.

"Are you clinically insane?" I asked, exasperated by her lack of self-preservation. Was she not aware of the way that the cold rain could play tricks on her immune system, lowering its strength and making her more prone to catching an illness?

"I got out in a hurry."

"I could have stayed in the car for as long as necessary. You know I don't mind waiting for you."

"I know, but I do."

We got into my car and I turned on the heating. Bella was already drenched from the thirty seconds spent in the heavy rain, so my most urgent mission was to remedy that situation.

"Is it warm enough for you?"

"I wasn't cold to begin with."

As if to prove her point, she pushed the jacket off her shoulders and placed it carelessly on the backseat. I threw her a disapproving look. In return, she grinned.

"You're impossible," I grumbled.

"And you're worrying too much. Shall I remind you that I am not as fragile as you think I am?"

"That's a great joke. Do you have more?"

We bickered some more on the topic of her vulnerable nature, as I started the car and drove to the nearest safe spot—the driveway of a house that had been up for sale since before I left Forks. No one lived there, and it was still close enough to Bella's home, which meant that we could spend our time there undisturbed, while I also got to hear if Jacob was going to wake up.

I kept the engine running, in order to keep the heat system on and hurry the drying process of Bella's clothes and hair. The warm air flowing through the vents turned the limited space of the car into a piece of sweet inferno. She had always smelled particularly delicious in the rain, but now that her scent was being blown and recirculated continuously, each breath was a punishment to my body.

Even so, I smiled through the pain when she asked me about my day.

"Someone kept texting me, so I didn't get to do much else," I teased her.

"That I know. But any progress with the house?"

I froze for a second.

Lying to Bella was always something I actively avoided. But there were still inescapable things—such as this ridiculous lie I concocted on the spot more than two weeks ago, when I revealed myself to her in a panic.

"It'll probably be finished before the end of this month," I lied, not looking at her, aware that I had just given myself a deadline. I had been dancing around the necessity of establishing it for too long now, circumventing her questions left and right.

"Oh… so not that long then."

"Not that long," I confirmed, unable to imagine what my life was going to look like once the ticking time bomb set off and I had to keep my word. No more snooping around in Bella's life after that. No more poorly-excused sneaky peeks.

"You can still visit every once in a while though… right?"

Not even in my wildest dreams.

"We'll see." My voice was firm when I uttered this vague response, which probably discouraged her from keeping the subject alive longer. I didn't want to taint this night with unfortunate conversations, so I was glad that she let it go so easily.

I should have known better, of course. I should have known that if Bella was willing to let go of a particular curiosity she had, it was only because she had an even greater one incoming.

"You know, I was wondering," she began, her voice soft and unassuming, "what were your plans if I would've told you to reschedule tonight?"

"I would have spent my time around the house."

That wasn't a complete lie. I would have spent my time around the house if that were the case—I simply had not mentioned that it was her house that I was talking about.

"All night? Like… is that how you usually spend your nights?"

Her voice was careful now, treading the waters. I turned to look at her and it was enough to understand. She knew. Of course she knew—she had already correctly assumed that I had been following her. There weren't that many dots left to connect in order to conclude that I had been watching over her at night too.

I swallowed the sudden tight knot in my chest, feeling caught. "What are you asking me?"

"You know what I'm asking you."

"Then you can probably guess the answer."

"I'd like to hear it," she persisted stubbornly.

With another falsehood crumbled, there was no point in denying it. The fear that this might be the thing that would get Bella to ask me to leave her alone was still there—there was no escaping it. In a bid to tone it down, I reminded myself that there were far worse things I had confessed to Bella without her running away in disgust. I had to hope that she would be kind enough to accept this one as well.

Admitting defeat, I began to talk. "I've been spending most nights in the tree by your window. Not exactly watching you, but… listening in throughout the night." There was an odd fondness hiding in the depth of her eyes as she took in my words. I felt even more guilt pressing down on me, seeing that her reaction was not one of pure revulsion. "I'm sorry, Bella. And I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

"Why did you do it?"

"Why have I been following you? Why have I been watching over your sleep? Same reason, really. These old habits that I am not proud of come scarily naturally in this place. I don't even try to fight against them much, to be honest. And I know I should. I know that these are limits that I shouldn't be crossing, but—"

"Is it because you think something is going to happen to me while you're not around?" she asked, not letting me finish.

I considered her question for a moment. "Yes, that's a big part of it. But I also feel compelled to… simply be in your proximity for as long as possible."

"I get that. My days pass so slowly when you're not near."

Ah, the agony of hearing her say that! It was all-encompassing, stronger than any potential joy. "I wish it wasn't like that…"

A sorrowful smile teased the corners of her lips, but it vanished quickly. "When you're in that tree," she went on, "do you ever hear me saying anything in my sleep?"

"Come to think of it, not really, although you used to be quite an active sleep-talker back in the day. What happened?"

"I think it was my fear, mostly. When Jacob moved in, I was mortified by the possibility of saying something that I shouldn't in my sleep. So I started taking melatonin to help me sleep—supposedly, a deep sleep should prevent cases of sleep-talking. I must have taken those pills for half a year before I decided to stop and see if I could avoid saying stuff when I was asleep without any aid. It must have worked, because Jake never complained."

Bella shrugged and pushed away half of the damp hair that had been covering the front of her body. With the curtain peeled back, my eyes were immediately drawn to what had been hiding underneath. The swell of her left breast was visible through her loose-fitting—and now slightly moisture-laden—camisole, and so was the stiff peak of her nipple. It was a compelling sight, one that caught me off-guard. I realized that, although there had been many occasions during our relationship when she wore similar pieces of clothing—pieces that subtly revealed her decadent form, that made me long to find out what was hidden underneath the fabric—I had never stared at her as intently as I was staring now.

My pants became uncomfortable quickly, and so did my mouth. Because the more I peered at Bella's chest, the more aware I became of the other looming hunger. Her blue veins vibrated under the pressure of blood circulating through them. Their enticing movement captivated me beyond hope, sending torrent after torrent of venom to invade my tongue.

"Bella," I murmured through the flood, "why didn't you want him to hear you talking in your sleep?"

"Because… you never stopped haunting my dreams. So there was no way I was taking any risks."

I was instantly dumbfounded. It seemed that no matter how close Bella and I got, there were still things I couldn't possibly comprehend about how she perceived me. It was one thing to know that she still felt the tie of desire between us, but now her dreams? Dreams were the mystifying end product of the subconscious part of her brain, what the hell was I doing in them?

"I didn't know that," I admitted, feeling in complete awe. "What kind of dreams?"

"For a long while only nightmares of you in that forest. Leaving on repeat and stuff like that." She stopped and shuddered, as if the memory of those nightmares was still fresh, and my heart fell apart. It was never easy to be reminded of the awful repercussions that our break-up had brought on her, particularly when it was Bella that offered me these reminders. "But later on, when I finally forced myself to accept things for what they were… I started having good dreams. Really good dreams. Although… you'd find them pretty dishonourable."

"Dishonourable how?"

"Dishonourable in the sense that… they'd leave me, you know, pretty hot and bothered in the morning." A lovely blush spread from her cheeks, traversing her neck and painting her cleavage with pink undertones. "Kind of like the one I had last night."

"You dreamed of me last night," I said out loud, trying to confirm to myself that my understanding was right.

"Yes. I dreamed of this—of you and me—last night. And so many nights before… so many times I've lost count."

Her breathing hastened as she revealed this to me, and so did mine. I leaned forward, closer to her, granting access to the caramelized lavender of her scent to wash over me and inflame my lungs. Familiar, polarizing desires fought for dominance within me, not one of them close to winning. I wanted all of Bella and nothing less.

"I wish I could do it too," I avowed, hypnotized as ever. "I'd only dream of you."

She smiled, pushing the rest of her hair back, essentially flaunting her perfection to me. The way her nipples poked through the fabric of her flowy top was a thing of unmatched beauty. It demanded adoration, so much so that I couldn't bear to look away. All I wanted was to lean in closer. And closer. And closer, until I could peel back the fabric with my teeth and brush my lips against those pesky nipples.

"Tell me what you dreamed of last night," I requested in my fired up state. "How it started, what we did… everything."

I felt Bella's eyes on me, so I forced my glance to move from the valley of her cleavage and back to her face. She was toying with her bottom lip now, biting hard on it. The sound of rain clashing against the car all around us was still not as loud as the lively sonata of her fast-beating heart.

"It started in my bedroom," she whispered. "It was night-time and I was reading something at my desk, all alone. And I don't remember the logistics precisely, because this part is a bit blurry, but… all of a sudden I was no longer alone. I think you sneaked in through my window or something, because the room was suddenly windy and… just like that, you were there."

So even in her dreams I was a master at trespassing. I shouldn't have been surprised, since my reputation preceded me.

"I think you pulled me up from my chair and asked me to face you. And it was so…" Bella strove to continue, and I was surprised to discover that her hands had become restless, roaming around her thighs. "You were really adamant when you asked me that and I didn't know how to resist you—well, not that I wanted to resist you—so I listened. And once we were face to face, you… you leaned in and told me you didn't have much time and you needed me naked fast. So I took my clothes off."

The lack of subtlety that the dream version of myself had was outstanding. And it was all the more outstanding that Bella found his nonsense charming enough to go through with it, even in this fantasy scenario that her mind had created while she was asleep. Regardless of how this dream lacked any kind of finesse, I found myself getting increasingly aroused.

Because the thought of Bella, undressing at my request? Fuck, it was as sublime as it was impossible.

"After that, you asked me to lie down on my bed, with my eyes closed and my legs parted," she furthered the story, adding a new mental image to the mix. I noticed her left hand wandering off, tracing a trail from her thigh to her belly. Then a little higher up, dangerously close to her breast. "So of course I listened, how could I not? Time dragged so slowly afterwards, like it sometimes does in a dream, you know?" I glanced at her face again, right as the embarrassment of her small gaffe set in.

"I don't, but go on," I encouraged her with a smile.

"Right, sorry," she said. "What I was trying to say is that it took you forever to join me in that bed. And I remember being so frustrated, because while I waited there with my eyes closed, I could hear you taking off your clothes, telling me that you loved how wet I was getting just from listening to your voice…"

Well, there it was. A bit of realism. If there was one thing I had learned from our nightly activities, it was that Bella truly didn't need an awful lot of preamble to get wet and ready. Hearing me talk to her usually did the trick.

"Then you turned off the light, for some reason. I know you did, because I had grown too impatient and opened my eyes, only to realize we were in complete darkness. It wasn't fair, I wanted to see you too." She frowned, clearly frustrated. "But then I felt your weight on top of me and suddenly it no longer mattered."

I dared to imagine that for a second. Our bodies, naked and tangled together in her bed, a mere suggestion away from making love. Ice and fire, learning to coexist and to potentially thrive together in passion…

My imagination came to an abrupt stop when I realized what Bella was doing. Her left hand had run out of restraint, as it was no longer roaming around her breast. It was actively caressing it through her camisole. I could see the way her flesh rippled under the attack, still covered by the material, and I realized this was new territory for me.

Territory that I wasn't exactly allowed to walk on.

But right now I wanted to. Desperately. And I couldn't remember a single reason why I shouldn't.

"Can I keep watching you?" I asked.

"Yes," she purred. "I want you to."

And with that, she pulled the cardigan off her left shoulder, along with one strap of her camisole, allowing the fabrics to fall down and sate my curiosity.

I was mesmerized. I was entranced. I was transformed.

Bella's left breast was a work of art, better even than what the greatest sculptors of all time could have hoped to achieve if they put their minds together and worked day in and day out to create something perfect. No, no human hands could have designed curves so harmonious, nor a fullness so exemplary. And that nipple she was now teasing with her fingers… the colour of peonies waiting to burst in bloom, and obviously engorged with blood beyond capacity…

It was the masterpiece of a deity, I decided. And it made me as hungry as ever.

"Beautiful," I whispered in my transfixed state.

Carefully, Bella's thumb and index finger caught her nipple in a little trap and rolled it, which elicited a faint sob from her. I couldn't resist the avalanche of stimuli she was exposing me to; it was simply unfeasible to keep watching without doing anything. So I used my right hand to reach down to my pants, right where the fabric stretched itself to the limit. I grabbed my cock with a firm grip, teasing myself a little before the inevitable.

"I want to hear the rest of your dream, Bella," I groaned.

It was impossible not to notice the way her glance slipped down. Or how her eyes widened when she realized what I was doing. She quickly looked back up at me, blinking fast, her face dazed.

"You… fucked me into oblivion," she breathed.

My cock twitched at her brazen admission. I was still unaccustomed to hearing such crude words coming from her. The impossible dichotomy of purity and vulgarity shattered me to pieces and made me rabid with desire each time it happened.

I inhaled deeply, adoring the fusion between the scent of her blood and that of her arousal soaking through. I could visualize that dream of hers as I was doing this, but there was something missing. "No teasing?" I asked, feeling aggravated by this particular detail. "God knows I'd tease you to no end before anything else happened."

"No, you were in a hurry."

"Now that's just cruel… I would take my damn time if I could fuck you, Bella."

Her lips parted to allow for a better intake of air when she heard my last words. Her free hand could no longer stay put; I watched as it traveled upwards along her thigh, dancing close to the apex of her legs, then higher up, at the waistband of her pants, hesitating there.

"Go on," I encouraged. "I know you need it."

"Will you do the same?"

"Damn right I will."

"And can I… watch?" she pleaded with me between hitched breaths.

I paused, realizing what she was really asking.

Up until now, Bella and I had been really good at keeping a semblance of decency when it came to our pleasurable forays. We always kept our clothes on. We never touched each other, nor looked at each other. And it was more than enough—more than I could have dared to crave—that we were openly sharing our most obscene fantasies with each other and masturbating together at the same time. That in itself was questionable enough on its own, of course, but at least we had a limit. We knew what lines we shouldn't cross if we didn't want to muddle the waters further.

But tonight…

Maybe it was the contained space of the car, or maybe it was the mantle of rain hiding us so effectively from the outside world, but tonight things were admittedly different. We were dangerously ready to let each other participate with our eyes too. Bella had already allowed me the privilege to gaze at her bare breast. And I had already let her gaze down at my covered erection as I grabbed and caressed it.

Some boundaries, at the very least, had been broken—not that either of us really fought to keep them in place.

Breaking one more wasn't the worst thing in the world.

"Yes," I answered at long last, with renewed confidence. My head was swimming with euphoria as I pulled down the zipper of my pants and liberated my cock from containment. It sprung up instantly, throbbing painfully with need. "You can watch."

And moving my eyes on Bella's face, I realized she was already watching.

There was a lovely curiosity glimmering in her irises, as she studied the one part of me she had never seen before. Marvel and awe played in them while this momentous first unraveled for both of us, almost urging time to move slower and slower for our sake. She licked her bottom lip right as a soft sound of wonder rolled off of it, and God, it felt good. It felt good to witness her raw hunger like this, undefiled by any kind of hesitation. And in this moment, I truly trusted that she wanted me as much as I wanted her.

As more seconds passed, I quickly learned that I loved the feeling of being held by Bella's gaze like this. It felt right. It felt natural.

Impassioned, I moved my hand upwards across the length of my cock, adding more pressure once I reached the swollen head. This seemed to stir something in Bella, because she no longer hesitated when she slid her hand through the waistband of her sweatpants and right between her legs. She kept the other hand on her nipple, squeezing it so tightly it was no longer a pale shade of pink, but rather a deep rouge.

"God, Edward," she muttered, her eyes still fixated on my cock, "you're bigger than I imagined."

A primal part of me rejoiced, feeling a strange sense of validation for something I never even knew I needed.

And much like Bella, I felt an unequivocal pull to look at the hand she now had between her thighs. It was concealed by her pants, but I could see the way it moved back and forth, just like I could hear the delicate sloppy sounds that her fingers made as they stroked that sacred place.

I grunted in front of such a spectacular display, secretly dying to get a glimpse of more.

"And when you groan like that…" she managed to say, but didn't finish. She seemed decidedly distracted by her own ministrations, and I felt envious of her hands. They could touch everything I couldn't.

I groaned again—not because of Bella's confession, but because I couldn't fucking help it. Although it didn't hurt to know the kind of effect it had on her.

"You can't possibly comprehend how much I want to fuck you right now," I said, and my enthusiasm caused my hand to start a proper rubbing motion on my cock. I was no longer playing a teasing game—I was desperate to taste the heavenly release that only an orgasm could bring.

Bella's capacity to reply with actual words had diminished, because all she seemed to be able to offer now were rapturous cries and moans. For me, that was more than enough. I happily took the lead, already used to it by now, and as such, our downward spiral commenced.

I could never get used to this level of ecstasy. Allowing all of my inhibitions to fall in front of Bella was simultaneously the greatest and most intense experience of my life. Every night, it kept getting better. Wilder. Fiercer. It was this continuous crescendo of elation. Just unbridled, unsullied, unending pleasure.

And it broke me each time it happened. Because I knew I was never going to get further than this with Bella. It was the hex I had to endure—being her dirty secret and pretending it didn't hurt one bit.

I must have been particularly masochistic to still find it in me to get off, when my mind couldn't stop punishing me. But then again, how could I not, when my eyes were glued to Bella's, and all I could hear was the divine concord of her heartbeat and her out of control gasps? She was a different kind of beautiful in these moments—like an angel and a succubus, all wrapped into one. There was still so much innocence in the way she heaved and flushed and trembled, as if all this pleasure was too much to bear and she didn't know what to do with it. But there was also so much eroticism in the way she moved her hands to bring herself to the edge, in the way she kept glancing at my cock, in the way she moaned my name and bit her lip before the last syllable rolled off her tongue…

My splintered heart never stood a chance.

"Let go, Bella," I managed to say. "I want to see you come."

And by God, she came. Loudly, overtaking the raucous scream of the storm.

I was instantly mesmerized by how her face changed when her climax hit. Her eyes shut close and her eyebrows slumped, while a new influx of mouth-watering red blood flooded her cheeks. Then, observing her further, I could see that both of her hands had stopped moving, prolonging the rapture for as long as possible. Her nipple looked almost sore and bruised from the tight grip of her fingers, which made me lose my mind completely.

Hearing Bella, tasting the scent of her orgasm in the air… it very nearly felt like I was making love to her.

Seconds later, I was right there with her. One particular breath of hers was my undoing, getting me to relinquish and spill my load all over the steering wheel. Bella was still riding her own acme, but that didn't stop her from watching me intently. Her eyes moved quickly between my face and my cock, taking in my every reaction.

And unashamedly, I didn't look away, not even after the last stream of venom had left my body. We kept our gazes glued, solemnly sealing this moment in the only way we could afford.

I wanted to know, even more than usual, what secrets her mind held from me. Was she happy all the way through? Was she satisfied to her core? Or was guilt already finding a path to stream through her soul? I, for one, could feel it already. The weight of my misbehaviour was starting to set on my shoulders, trapping me under its heavy tonnage, reminding me that there was no turning back now, after one of our crucial limits had been crossed.

Would Bella even tell me if she felt such a weight too?

Incidentally, I wasn't the only one who was curious about these matters. "What are you thinking?" she asked, right as she pulled back her top, along with her cardigan, to cover herself. Her hand resurfaced from her underwear immediately after—and it only lasted a second before she hid that hand, but it was enough to get me to notice how her fingers were glimmering with the sap of her orgasm.

Suddenly, I felt the urge to take those fingers in my mouth and lick them clean, one by one. Slowly. Thoroughly. Not letting one drop go to waste.

For the first time in a long while, I felt compelled to close my eyes—I wasn't strong enough to offer her the real answer otherwise. "Maybe we went too far."

"You haven't touched me, Edward."

That was true enough. But that didn't change anything. "I might as well have."

"We're fine. Really. We are."

I opened my eyes and finally turned my head away, to assess the mess I had made. My venom was now dripping from the steering wheel, half of it landing on the floorboard on which my feet were resting, half of it directly on my pants. With a sigh, I reached over Bella's lap, opening the glove compartment and grabbing a cloth that was supposed to be part of the car's cleaning supplies.

I could feel Bella's eyes on me as I moved. My cock was still hard when I tucked it back into my pants, closing the zipper; a part of me hoped that she hadn't noticed that—what would she think? That I was an animal that was shamelessly wanting more, with no hope of ever feeling sated? Because yes, I was that, but she didn't necessarily have to know.

Ignoring those troubling thoughts was difficult, but I made an effort. I poured my concentration into cleaning the remains of my orgasm.

It probably took me less than a minute to get it all done, but it felt as if several long hours had passed when I heard Bella's voice calling me from my trance-like state. "Can we go to your place for a bit?"

To say that I was taken aback was an understatement. "What?"

"Your place. I miss it."

She had to be kidding. "You do realize it's the middle of the night, right? And if Jacob wakes up—"

"I don't care."

I shook my head in incredulity. "No, you do care. And you will care even more tomorrow, when you're not drunk on endorphins from your orgasm."

"Please?"

"I'm sorry, but no."

How could I make her understand?

Bringing her back into the house where the coup de grâce that ultimately ended our relationship happened was a dreadful idea. While I had known that things would end between me and Bella long before that, I never knew what would get me to truly break it off for good. Not until I saw my brother ready to kill her—not because he couldn't resist her, nor because he hadn't had enough practice to deal with a minor papercut. But because I had been unable to suppress the violent hunger long enough to not affect his emotional radar too deeply.

I couldn't face that part of the past fully, especially not with Bella by my side. It was one thing to haunt that house on my own, as I could somewhat tune out the ghosts from my past. But her being there? It could be my worst nightmare yet.

Not to mention that there was no way I could explain to Esme why I needed her to leave the house.

"You keep doing this thing," Bella said after a while. "You keep not playing fair."

"Do you think I'm playing with you?"

"At times, yes."

I had to do a double take, because that was not the answer I had expected. But she appeared to be serious—and even worse, hurt.

"I can assure you I'm not," I retorted.

"But you are. Because your rules always come on top."

"That's not true."

"No, it is," she insisted. "For instance, we didn't exchange phone numbers when I asked you to. We exchanged them when you changed your mind. Because God forbid I had the tiniest bit of control over deciding when and how we got to interact, right?"

I could see why that drove her to be mad at me. But she had to understand that it was not my penchant for control that got me to behave that way. "Bella, that was me trying to be a somewhat decent man and keep a certain kind of distance from you, considering that you were—and are, in fact—very much taken."

"And you did that by not listening to me at all. Just like you are doing now."

"What is there to listen to right now? You think you miss that house? I sure as hell don't. The last time you and I were under that roof together, things went downhill terribly fast."

"But it's been so long since that happened, why does it even matter now? Or am I simply no longer welcome there and you're trying to let me down gently?"

I could feel my muscles straining in apprehension of what I had to do. If being rude was the necessary evil that would get Bella to give up this fragile dream, I would do it. "Yes, as a matter of fact, you are not welcome in that house."

My harsh voice got her to turn her head towards the window, hiding her face from me completely. I felt a tinge of salt tarnishing the air between us, alerting me about her incoming tears, and I regretted my words instantly.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I simply don't want to relive those moments."

Silence. She wasn't even breathing as she stared outside through the window.

I knew right then that I had to try again. "Listen, I shouldn't have said that. This is not about you and whether you are welcome or not, really. It's an issue of my own. One that I'd rather not drag you into, if I can help it."

"No, I… I get it. You were right to react like that."

Compassion? Now that was somehow worse than silence. She had every right to be angry with me for what I had just said, just like she had every right to make me work for her forgiveness a little harder.

"I wasn't." I shook my head, feeling an increasing sense of doom growing inside me. "I was out of line and I'm sorry. I mean it."

But Bella was on a wavelength of her own. "You weren't out of line. I shouldn't have insisted on going in the first place. It was my fault for bringing it up."

"Absolutely not," I objected. "It's not your fault I find it so difficult to say no to you. Taking the rude way out seemed simpler than continuing to refuse you without caving to your whims."

"Truthfully, I wish you would tell me no less often. But… it's probably for the best that you don't."

"Trust me, when I do refuse you, it eats me alive."

She finally turned back to face me. And there it was—on her right cheek, the almost transparent, yet unmistakable trail left behind by the one tear she must have shed. I wanted to erase that physical reminder of her pain so much. One single swipe of my index finger and it would no longer be there…

It would be so easy to cross another line now. But so wrong too.

"It shouldn't, your intentions are in the right place," she said.

The short laugh that escaped me was dry and sad, mirroring my mood. "You're giving me far too much credit. You would know, by now, that I'm the farthest thing from a saint there is."

She laughed too—but she was clearly not bemused either. "You say that as if I'm any better."

"You are. You'll always be."

We stood in silence for a while, allowing the rain to engulf us in its noise. I wasn't ready to let go. If I could have things my way, we would have spent the rest of the night trapped in this car, with nothing but my common sense keeping me from turning our meeting into a delicious massacre. I would have made love to her in between rounds of sleep, transforming her dreams—and my fantasies—into something real for once.

I forced myself to look at the clock on the dashboard, to remind myself of what needed to be done.

"It's late," I muttered softly. "You should get some sleep tonight."

"I know."

She didn't sound happy, and I wasn't either. Parting from her was never easy. Still, I reached behind my back and grabbed the jacket she had previously thrown on the backseat.

"It's still raining, so take this."

"Thank you."

"Do you think you can hide it?"

"Jacob never does the laundry, so certainly."

I nodded and started the car, barely refraining myself from suggesting that she shouldn't have to carry the weight of that chore on her own. It took us no time to arrive in front of her house. From inside, the most prominent sound was that of Jacob's snoring. He was having a dreamless sleep, not one bit aware that his soon-to-be bride was in my car, still flushed from her orgasm.

"So… we'll see each other tomorrow, right?"

"Of course," I promised. "I'll be here when you're ready to meet me."

She smiled—the first time in what seemed like forever. "And until then… do you plan to hang around while I sleep tonight?"

"I'm still debating," I offered playfully in return.

"I won't mind if you will."

Bella's coyness painted her face in appealing nuances. She looked astonishing, even when her dallying remarks got the better of her. I couldn't help but smile, as I decided that yes, I would watch over her tonight.

She fought to get her hand out of the jacket that was too large for her, so that she could grab the door handle. For a fleeting moment, I yearned to draw out the inevitable, even if that only meant stealing thirty more seconds with her.

I leaned forward. "Bella?"

"Hm?"

She turned around and her heart started to gallop once she realized how close to her I was. I could feel the sweet heat of her breath on my lips, just like she probably could feel the freezing chill of mine. But she didn't turn away; in fact, the cold reminder of death looming over her seemed to be as unintimidating as ever, when placed against her lack of survival instincts.

"I hope you dream of us again tonight," I said, glaring at her parted lips. God, a kiss was so easily within reach now…

Just five more inches and our mouths would meet… and dance… and melt…

I leaned in, closer still. Yes, so easy. If I made an effort and held my breath, even the raging fire caused by her scent could be kept under wraps—at least long enough to do what I truly wanted.

But then Bella closed her eyes, and my better judgement came rushing.

I couldn't do this to her. I couldn't pull her deeper still into this world of sin I had opened just because I could. It was too devious of a thought, too much of a punishment for her already injured soul. Petrified by my shamelessness, I quickly moved until my lips reached a safe space.

Bella's cheek was soft and hot under my kiss. Like soft velvet protecting the thinnest glass, her skin yielded ever so slightly under the pressure of my cold lips. And the phantom of her taste as blood hurried to feed the complex web of capillaries underneath her skin… it was sure to fuel my darkest fantasies for centuries to come.

I didn't let the miracle last too long—it was the kind of miracle that needed to be killed before it really got to get a good grasp of the world around it.

I pulled back, not fully realizing what I had done. She seemed to be just as lost in a haze as I was, not saying anything in return.

I watched as Bella opened the door and stumbled out in the rain, wrapping my jacket tighter around her small frame, and I wondered how it was possible to fall deeper and deeper in love with her every day. And the deeper I fell, the more I wanted to drag her down with me.

Into the shadows. The one place where I belonged. The one place where she once wanted to join me.

Also the one place I had to ensure she would never ever get to see.

*sigh* I know, I know, even I want to knock some sense into these two!

With yet another boundary crossed, do you think they'll be able to maintain their questionable deal in place for much longer?

As always, I am really excited to know your thoughts on this chapter!

Until next Sunday, stay safe and happy!