Author: Anesther PM
Edward and Bella: The light never shines on demons--not even ones who love. Rated M for a reason!Rated: Fiction M - English - Romance/Tragedy - Edward & Bella - Words: 1,297 - Reviews: 5 - Favs: 5 - Follows: 1 - Published: 05-16-10 - Status: Complete - id: 5976896
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
AN: Hello everyone who clicked! So, this is, I think, my fifth oneshot for the Twilight-verse. This time, it's for the main couple. Never thought I'd do one for E/B in my life, but guess there's a first time for everything. Although, I have had this idea in mind for a while; probably not the most original plot but still… XD
This is rated M for a reason. Sexual content is not entirely explicit—it's more on the romantic side; it's not porn. Well, I keep it from that. But there's blood. XD Oh, also, contains minor strings of religion—for some reason I had been thinking about Edward's Christianity so… yeah. ^^' Oh… Um… Yeah, this fic is pretty much on the side of sadistic and morbid. Yes, I am disturbed sometimes with what I think about, but I like believability.
Hope it's decent! :D
Gently, ever so gently, he pushed her onto the bed. The sheets were made of silk, but he swore to himself that her skin was far more divine—warm and supple, beautifully delectable. He plants kisses on her collarbone, breathing in deeply. Her scent was so tantalizing. Tracing her sides with his fingers, he captures her lips with his.
She moans and he feels her knee grind between his thighs, fisting his shirt tightly.
He licks her lips, flicks an earlobe, and nuzzles his nose in the crook of her neck. Slowly, he glides a smooth hand over the ridges of her fragile ribs, the flat stomach, finally on a mound of flesh.
He squeezes; she writhes.
He loves her so much.
This weak, lithe, human female was so precious to him—he wonders if she was even sure of his feelings towards her. She always said that he could do better, that she doesn't deserve him. But she was wrong. He wanted her, needed her. That urge was more insatiable than any thirst. She was his beloved and now she was finally his, forever and ever.
She murmurs unintelligibly, panting heavily, and running her fingers through auburn locks. Languidly, the tips of her digits press into his back, down his arms. Scanning his form with her eyes, she feels a rush of warmth flood into her pallid cheeks.
He was finally hers.
He smiles down at her, a thumb stroking a taut mammilla. He watches in fascination as it blooms like a flower, rising to its peak. She moans breathlessly. Dark tendrils fan out behind her, stark against the white sheets, her paler skin, and more so with his marbled flesh. He enjoys winding a tress around his finger, watching it unravel back to its straight design. She looks at him with those large, fathomless eyes and he drowns in their depths.
He's been waiting for her for so long—this lovely, kind and strong woman-child. She was his everything—nothing in this whole world meant more to the immortal than the girl whose days were numbered. But no more; soon he will have to fulfill his end of bargain. She will no longer be the human he had fallen for.
However, that was entirely her choice. She wanted to be with him—spend eternity at his side.
If he could weep, he would. He still found it astonishing that she would forsake her very soul to live alongside him, trapped within a corpse that thrived on the death of other living beings. She said it didn't matter to her. She had proven it countless times that her love for him was as unquenchable as his kind's desire which sustains them. He was her world, she would have him—that was enough.
He felt love for her surge tumultuously, and he pulls her into his embrace, responding to her touch. She wrapped him nearer, her heart thrumming so loudly he could hear it, feel it pulse beneath that tender skin till he could feel it pound in his head, counting each beat, dancing to its rhythm.
She whimpered, tightly winding her legs about his waist. Their eyes met; they were both ready.
And when he pulled her down, his groan harmonizing with her cry, they felt more than one—an empty shell conjoined to one that was full of a life granted by a being bigger than him, larger than world.
In those dark eyes, he knew what his father was talking about. The damned immortal saw the beauty and awe of His creation tucked perfectly inside the woman he held. He saw the universe, celestial and whole as he moved with her, whispering words that poured into her, making her shudder.
In the darkness, Heaven's light flickered.
In the coldness of his empty cavity, something stirred.
Then blood sang.
A cry in the womb of blackness, chains clinked, a beast squirming as it smelt life.
The monster emerged, racking him to the core, having been dormant for so long. That crimson liquid flowed when he pierced her, sticky and hot, and it beckoned him like a siren's song. It wanted that taste, it wanted that girl.
Demons always stole that which was forbidden.
And she pulsed, moaning, crying, and sighing in pleasurable pain.
White fingers dug into that soft skin, branding it with red, harsh welts till they blackened. She took no notice. Love blinded her, accepting him as he was. He pushed harder, deeper, and when she bucked he felt the change in himself before he had a chance to stop it.
She looked down at him lovingly.
He met her earth-brown oculars with equal fervor.
The blood was still singing.
Growling, the monster licked her neck, and teeth softly made indentations on paper thin flesh. Venom coursed, and it became dizzy. So much of it!
Arching her back, she felt nails slide downwards. That scent… salt and rust.
It made her feel sick.
But the more rational part of her mind was lost in the full blown waves of passion brought upon it. She was losing herself in him, not knowing anymore where he began and where she ended. The thread of fate twined them together, as scarlet as the blood trickling like ribbons down her breasts.
Losing control, losing control, losing, losing, losing…
She screamed in pure ecstasy, an insurmountable high gripped her and she was flying, soaring above the clouds, with him in her arms. She never noticed the pain, the fire boiling in her veins. She was too caught up in a wonderful expanse to even feel the whisper of death, its cold vice.
He screamed within, dominant and powerful, sustained by the nurturing, rich taste of her blood. Miserly, it lapped and suckled and drank, oblivious of the girl's life feebly holding on. The soul was wilting, but it still didn't care.
He was all that mattered.
With the dawn, the dream became a nightmare instantly. The demon reverted back to the shadows, and a dead man wept bitterly, shouting hysterically that she needed to wake up. She could not leave him like this! He loved her!
Engrained in his memory, that night flitted like eddies. In succumbing to heaven's light, he finally found himself in hellfire. In putting her through hellfire, she went to heaven's light.
He cried, though his eyes were dry, and he laughed in acrid relief.
Her soul was safe. She wouldn't have to live in darkness.
In the sunshine, the immortal grieved and rejoiced.
He would join her soon. Where, he didn't know, but he could not live without her. That was for certain.
What a sick and masochistic being he was.
And he smiles as he kisses bleached lips curved in contentment.