|Behind Enemy Lines
Author: Namariel PM
Reposting in FFnet due to death of Twilighted account. Started out as a rescue mission, until Masen's 'copter went down in flames. Now he's stuck in enemy territory with Bella Swan and a whole lot of background issues.Rated: Fiction M - English - Adventure/Romance - Edward & Bella - Chapters: 17 - Words: 78,302 - Reviews: 143 - Favs: 322 - Follows: 141 - Published: 03-12-10 - id: 5809875
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Extract. The Dragonfly.
Bella sighed and laid back on the deck, staring at the deep blue dome of the cloudless sky through her dark sunglasses.
I secured the last string keeping the major sail down and leaned against the mast, admiring Bella's long body as it lay under the sun, stretched and beautiful. I glanced at my watch—3 o'clock.
"You're gonna get a sunburn," I warned, walking over to her and sitting down at her side. I stretched out my legs and leaned back on my hands, letting my head roll back. I stared at the navigation instruments up at the point of the mast, enjoying the warm summer breeze.
"You're just saying that to rub sun lotion on me. Again," she teased.
"Yeah, I am." I grinned up at the sky.
Another sailboat, much smaller than my Dragonfly, passed by on our starboard side. I looked over at them and lifted my hand up high to acknowledge them like the seamen etiquette requested of me. Seamen—hehe... I am such a fucking teenager sometimes.
They didn't recognize me with the sunglasses on, thank god.
Then again, we had come to Sydney exactly so I wouldn't have to worry about being recognized. I still had no idea what the fuck had possessed me to allow the Times and People magazines to do notes on me.
Fucking Cosmopolitan had asked for an interview. I swear if I wasn't in therapy already, that would have plunged me right into it.
I bent my left leg and pulled the swimsuit down to look at the old scars. The stab wounds had been deep, but clean. The scars were simple white lines, around five centimeters long and a few millimeters thick. I didn't mind them. The scar on the right leg was the same, only longer across the top of my knee. The one in my shoulder was a different matter. It was wide and the tissue was still thick and pink. I didn't like that one, or the one on the outside of my left arm where the metal shrapnel had lodged after the tank's explosion.
But, well—it could be lots worse.
Besides, the last thing I could do was mope and brood. I was in Sydney on a two mast, wooden sailboat with a gorgeous woman, soaking in the sun.
"What about spring in Greece?" I asked, tilting my head to her. She didn't respond, choosing to ignore my question. She hated when I lavished her. She'd just have to deal!
"I'm going to swim for a little bit," I announced, jumping to my feet and stretching. Bella nodded, acknowledging me this time. I chuckled.
I rested the glasses by her elbow on the deck and dove into the water. We were just outside the bay, where the water was cleaner and the boat traffic thin. I swam along the sailboat, inspecting the wood out of habit. The boat had been severely damaged in the years I had left it to rot alone in Greece, but I had invested an unnecessary amount of money in restoring it myself, wanting to do something with my own two hands. It was a gorgeous ship with graceful, elegant lines. Designed by Germán Frers especially for my father, it was a unique vessel.
I swam for a while, dipping under the water to run my hand over the smooth surface of the long keel. The Dragonfly had an exceptionally wide sail surface for a boat of its category; when I asked Frers about it, he said that my father had requested it to be especially fast and maneuverable. It was amazingly fast, easily reaching thirty knots with frank winds and entire sail surface.
When I climbed back over the stern, shaking my head like a dog, Bella had left the deck. I checked my waterproof watch and realized it was dinner time. She was probably cooking below deck. I ran a hand through my wet hair to shake some more water away and went down the steps.
Bella was sitting cross legged on one of the side beds, sipping tea.
She looked up as I picked up the coffee pot, and I rested my hip against the sink, tilting my head.
I was glad to be able to have time alone with her. Running Masen Industries was more demanding than I had originally thought, though I liked doing it. And despite the fact that she had retired from the MI6, they still called her regularly to ask for her help with a particular case. Bella had a gift with deciphering clues, putting things together and linking separate facts. She was a Case Closer, and one of the best in the MI6. Now she remained on as a consultant, both for the SIS and the FBI.
Of course, I had been absolutely against any field missions where I wasn't allowed to accompany her. The FBI had been lenient about it and we'd had three field missions in the last two years.
It alleviated the boredom, I suppose.
My therapist kept complaining how I missed my appointments to 'run off and shot people', but I took my meds and kept my diary, like a good little boy, so he cut me some slack.
Bella tilted her head, and her eyes glinted in a way that I just knew something was coming my way.
"You know, I like the way those trunks stick to your junk."
I choked on my coffee.
And I was hard, yet again.
Third time today and counting. Bitch was gonna win the bet.
"Fuck," I cursed, dropping the plastic cup in the sink and striding to her. I kissed her roughly, dipping my tongue inside quickly and tangling my fingers in the hair at the back of her neck. She moaned and lightly ran her knuckles over my erection through the wet trunks.
She bit my lip lightly and moved away. I meant to follow her, but she pressed her hand against my chest to keep me away.
"Take a shower. I'm not licking any part of your skin covered in salty water."
Just when I think I can't get any harder… I should know better by now.
I growled and pushed her back against the bed so she was lying down. I stood leaning over her and parted her legs, placing my thigh between them so that only my left knee touched the thin mattress between her legs. I slowly leaned down and rested my hand on either side of her head.
"Fine," I purred. "But fair is fair."
I snaked my hand down to her sex and stroked her through the bikini's panties, roughly. She shuddered and gasped, grabbing my shoulder. I kissed her hard and increased my rubbing. The panties were beginning to get wet, and I could feel the dampness through the cloth. I felt her shudder strongly again, kissed between her breasts and pushed off the bed. She wasn't anywhere near her orgasm. But I had gotten her started and we had strict rules—no masturbation for the entire duration of the bet.
"See you in a bit." I gave her a shit-eating grin, untying my trunks and shutting myself in the bathroom.
Taking a shower with a dick made of iron was a lesson in self-control. I enjoyed the warmth, though, and managed to not lose the bet by pleasuring myself. I dried myself off quickly and got out of the bathroom naked, because we all know where this was going to end, and I am nothing if not practical.
The bet had come up on the plane from NYC to Sidney, where Frers had left the Dragonfly for me. I wanted to make an oceanic voyage in it from Australia to America with a group of other sailboats. It wasn't a race, per se; but sure, there was an incentive to being the first one to arrive in New York City Bay. The voyage was made in the name of Caritas, the children's foundation my father had donated to all his life. There were thirty-six sailboats participating and you had to pay an entering fee of five thousand dollars in the smallest category. The Dragonfly was notin the smallest category.
It was a voyage destined for the wealthy, obviously, and I was usually reluctant to participate in these kinds of things, but the mission was a good one and the activity was fun. It was an amazing opportunity to sail my father's boat after so many years.
I had forgotten my book at home and had nothing to read on the plane, so instead I turned to my other favorite activity in the world—annoying my wife. I said all the kind of things that I knew would get her horny. Halfway through the third hour of the flight, she got up and went to the bathroom. You can guess at what she was doing in there. When she returned, she was pissed. She pretended to trip on the aisle and sat on my lap, rubbing her butt against my crotch.
Pop—magic instantaneous erection.
And I was loud. I couldn't get off in the restroom without letting the entire plane in on the secret.
We'd devoted the rest of the flight to getting each other flustered and not being able to do anything about it. When we got off the plane and started the process of going through customs, etcetera, etcetera, we made a bet on who was able to get the other flustered more times a day. No masturbation allowed.
So far, we were even.
She was waiting; leaning against the doorframe to the master bedroom, in one of her sets of deep blue lace underwear that she knew drove me nuts. The woman was a she-devil. Seriously, she was a fucking succubus.
Fucking succubus? Well yes. That's what succubus do. Remember the time I used to be able to think straight?
Yeah. Me neither.
"So, what's the game?" I asked, bracing my arms on the walls at my sides and leaning forward a little, smirking. "And why are you wearing underwear?"
"I thought we'd play a little sensory game this time," she said, straightening. "I'm going to go a little Dom on you."
I considered that, "Control games, Bella? I don't know…"
I was uncomfortable with these kinds of things. Trust was an issue. I trusted her—I wanted to trust her fully, but I simply didn't enjoy it. Bella rarely tried these kinds of things with me, though she'd eased me into it gently. I had no trouble with bizarre positions and places, but dress-up games made me awkward.
She never even mentioned tying me up because she knew that reminded me of Myr.
"Very light control games. Just blindfold," she said, coming over and rubbing my arm soothingly. "You know I'll never hurt you." She pressed her forehead to mine, caressing my cheeks.
I thought about it for a moment, and finally nodded. I laid down on the bed on my back, blinking fast. Bella straddled my stomach, kissing my lips and forehead delicately.
"I won't tie the scarf, alright? I'll just place it over your eyes and whenever you want to take it off, you can."
I closed my eyes and felt her place the delicate silk scarf over my face, caressing my skin like a whisper.
"I want you to try and keep your hands over your head, alright? I'm going to tease you with things and I want you to try and guess at what they are. If you guess right, you get to tell me where you want me to kiss you. If you get three right in a row, you get to kiss me. Alright?"
It actually sounded exciting. I had a very hard dick to prove it. I nodded my head, my jaw tense, and lifted my arms to rest my hand on the pillow above my head. Bella kissed my lips slowly and tenderly. She ran her hands slowly over my chest, soothing and gentle, relaxing me. I made an effort to breathe deeply and loosen up, unclenching my hands.
After a little while, Bella noticed the stiffness had faded and moved off my stomach. I missed her weight, but remained calm and still; relaxed.
"That's it, baby. You're safe with me."
I was safer with no one else, after all. I knew for a fact she would storm a compound, gun in hand, to save me. I knew that and it helped me relax more. I was safe, she would never hurt me. She would protect me, as surely as I protected her. My problem was I was a man of action, and relinquishing control came unnaturally. I needed to force myself to do it, and for Bella, today I would.
I heard her rummage through one of her drawers and waited. It was amazing how much more my other senses took over now that my eyes were out of the equation. I opened them to stare at the silk of the green scarf, a present from Esme for my thirty-second birthday, and closed them again when I felt Bella's weight return to the bed by my side.
"I'm starting off easy," she teased, a smile in her voice.
What she moved against the skin of my cheeks and lips was soft and delicate, tickling me. It ghosted down my throat to my upper chest and brushed over one of my nipples. I squirmed slightly and swallowed.
"A feather?" I questioned aloud.
"You can't ask. You have to state. And you only get one chance per item. But yes—it's a feather."
"What if I get it wrong?"
"Then you don't get your kiss," she smiled. "So, where do you want it?"
She pressed her lips gently over my Adam's apple, teasing it with the silken smoothness.
Then I felt something more consistent, cooler and smoother. It glided down my wrists and the insides of my arms, over my chest and stomach, teasingly.
"A silk scarf," I said, frowning slightly.
She laughed gently. "Where now?"
"Between my collarbones."
She pressed her lips to the little hollow between the long bones and the tip of her tongue darted out playfully. I gasped.
A moment later, I felt something cold and wet between my collarbones. So cold! She dragged it down the center of my chest to my navel, and drew circles around it, dipping it in occasionally. I shuddered, growing harder, if even possible.
"Fuck. Ice cube," I rasped.
She laughed lightly.
I swallowed. "Right nipple."
Her lips encased my hard nipple, her tongue flicking it gently. I squirmed a little as she sucked, and cursed again. She lightly grazed it with her teeth. I cursed again, louder.
"So now you get to kiss me," she said.
"Your mouth," I said a little breathlessly, and felt her lips press over my mouth.
I deepened the kiss immediately, too aroused to be gentle. I played with her tongue, making her moan, seeking to work her up as much as I was.
"The next one," I breathed against her lips, "goes lower."
She moaned and moved away.
"Are you doing alright, then? Do you want to go on?"
I nodded, swallowing. I was so hard my dick ached and I could feel moistness on the tip.
"Are you wet?" I asked on impulse because I couldn't move my hands from where they were.
Her tinkering laugh caressed my ears. Her weight shifted in the bed and I felt her straddle one of my thighs. The heat of her skin burned me.
"Lift your thigh," she invited, and I did. I felt it settle snugly between her legs.
She was burning hot and very wet. I moved my thigh carefully, rubbing it up against her, and she moaned. Her hand rested on my stomach to support her weight as she gasped above me.
"Bella…" I rasped, fisting my hands.
"Yes…" she moan-gasped, breathless.
"Bella, let me move," I begged.
I threw the scarf off of my face and sat up immediately, grasping her waist and rolling her under me on the bed.
"Minx," I growled down at her, "I don't know how you manage to torture me like this."
"Because I love you," she replied, and surged her head up to kiss me deeply.
I returned the kiss fiercely, pressing her back to the pillows and forcing my thigh between hers and rubbing up roughly. She moaned loudly into my mouth and I dragged my lips down her chin and throat, between her breasts to her navel, and down, lower…
"Mmm…" she moaned, when I finally drew long, flat tongued laps over her clit. I pointed my tongue and dragged it between the folds, exploring everything and lapping up her wetness. She squirmed and parted her legs wider and I hummed against her.
I flicked her clit with my tongue a few times, inserting two fingers in her opening, and she came, moaning louder than ever. I helped her ride it out and then climbed over her, settling between her legs and pushing inside in one long, firm stroke. She arched off the bed, gasping.
"Shit. Fuck," I gasped. I grasped her right knee and draped it easily over my shoulder, gaining a new angle and thrusting in deeper. I reached between us to rub at her clit, thrusting roughly up in another angle.
She cried out and I grunted, cursing under my breath as she clenched around me.
"Bella…Bella…" I kept chanting her name quietly, and bucked forward brusquely.
She came, clamping down on my erection like a vice, quivering. I cried out and spilled in several long spurts, arching my back and throwing my head back. I collapsed on top of her, sliding a little to the side to let her breathe.
I kissed her temple softly, drawing her body closer to mine to snuggle. I was such a snuggle pup. We both were—we could stay in bed for hours in a row just resting and lying there together in each other's arms.
She pecked my lips and smiled.
"So the blindfold was tolerable?"
I laughed quietly, "More than tolerable."
"You lost it before I went through even half of the things I'd prepared."
"I lost it? You were dripping against my thigh. It's all sticky."
"You want to see something sticky? No condom. That's sticky."
I laughed and untangled myself from her, pulling out. I went to the bathroom, washed a hand towel with warm water and returned to clean her gently. I threw it in the laundry basket and stretched on the bed as she sat up and grabbed something from the shelf above the bed.
"By the way, lover mine, light of my eyes, husband beloved and blood of my blood, do you know what this is?" She dangled a blister of pills in my face.
My eyes widened. "Please tell me that's not a birth control pill you forgot to take because fuck, I'm not ready to be a fucking dad, no matter how many pills and fucking years of therapy I have on me, I fucking swear Bella," I said, panicking.
She scoffed unbelievingly. "Shut up, asshole. This is a sleeping pill you didn't take. Do I have to slap you?"
"Oh."I blinked. "No, sorry. I didn't do it on purpose. I really forgot."
She got up to get a glass of water. I sat up, put the pill on my tongue and washed it down with copious amounts of water like I had been told. I was being such a good boy!
Bella kissed my forehead and hugged me tightly as the pill began to take effect and I got drowsy. I needed the pill to sleep at least eight hours a day, the necessary amount of hours needed by the human body to function easily. If I slept any less, my mind went over things over and over again and that's where the shit started, because I started thinking of things I could have done differently…
And I needed a safe place to sleep; otherwise I didn't fall asleep at all. I needed to be absolutely, beyond a doubt, certain that I was safe. If I didn't, I had hell falling asleep and if I did fall asleep, I had nightmares, and woke up cringing and sweating, and panting.
I had all these issues—and Bella didn't give a shit. She was patient with me when I didn't like something we tried. She stroked my hair and cooed gently to me when I had nightmares.
"By the way, lover boy," she whispered lovingly against my ear as she held me, stroking my hair back. "You're one up and winning. From when you dove in the water earlier… and made me horny with your wet chest."
"I love you, Bella," I murmured sleepily.
She pressed her forehead against my temple.
"I love you too, Edward."
And I fell into a resting, dreamless sleep, aware only of her, next to me, holding me in her arms.