Author: b.krumova PM
Sleeping her way to the top was never Isabella's intention, but in an act of desperation, she agrees to a deal she never knew it would change her life. All Human. Drabble-ish.Rated: Fiction M - English - Romance/Angst - Bella & Edward - Chapters: 28 - Words: 27,254 - Reviews: 1,683 - Favs: 992 - Follows: 1,487 - Updated: 03-07-13 - Published: 04-01-12 - id: 7978497
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Disclaimer: I don't own The Twilight Series, or the characters. No copyright infringement intended.
Summary: In an act of desperation, Isabella Swan agrees to a deal she never knew it would change her life. All Human. Drabble-ish.
This story is from Isabella's POV.
My eyes were tired: so, so tired. Every flutter of my lashes made my eyes burn. I had forgotten my eye-drops at home this morning and to top the pain from the constant glare of my computer screen, my contacts were killing me.
My fingers were sore, too. I have signed so many papers today, some with my signature, some forging Mr. Cullen's one, considering he didn't waste time doing this upon reviewing them.
I was on my desk way after my shift has ended, way after I was supposed to go home...home to Chris.
I knew that I wasn't going to leave the office until he called me in. Until I gave him what he hired me for. The reason he chose me over the hundreds of much more qualified and educated assistants that lined up on his door.
I wasn't startled as I heard the buzzing of the intercom, even though I was up to my neck in work. After all his call was the reason I was still sitting in the office in the ungodly hours of the evening.
"Isabella," his smooth, velvety voice filled the room. "Come in."
I stood up and breathed in, but didn't dwell on the feeling of shame that always overwhelmed me whenever his call came. As much as I hated this moment — the one where I got reminded why I was assigned as the assistant of the multi-billionaire social network inventor, Edward Cullen — I couldn't lie.
On most days this was the highlight of my day.
I pressed the handle down and the doors leading to Edward's spacious office opened. I walked in silently, kicked the door closed with the heel of my shoe and stood there, next to it, back pressed to the cold wood.
I kept my eyes down. He never instructed me to do so, but my own shame and guilt over what I did on my interview, what I continuously do, it was too much for me to bear with my head held high.
The fact that my nipples were already hard and I had to rub my thighs together also wasn't something I felt particularly dignified about.
I could feel him close by. His scent is not something I could ever mistake. I have been in contact with it for so long, so many times already.
"Turn around," he instructed. I did as requested.
Four years we've played the same game. I knew him. I knew every single one of his moves, but that didn't stop the game from being more interesting than the last one.
His fingers went to my shoulders and I immediately closed my eyes. His long fingers came in contact with the bare skin on my neck and slowly, tenderly pushed the material of my shirt to the side. Leaving fire whenever he touched, he slid his fingers down to the valley between my breasts and my breath caught in my throat.
One by one, he unbuttoned my blouse until the material of my waist-high pencil skirt obstructed him and he stopped. He rarely undressed me fully — there was no need. We weren't lovers he needn't have to spend time lavishing me with attention, carefully loving every part of my body.
No. He simply pushed aside what was in the way.
He pressed against me. I could feel him, hard and ready, seeking friction, seeking warmth, seeking me.
Although he has made it more than clear that he didn't really need me. I was just convenient: a trash that offered more than a resume upon walking for an interview.
He held no respect for the likes of me; a girl who slept her way to the top.
Edward bent down slightly, gathering the material of my pencil skirt until it was hitched on my hips. He pushed my thong aside and worked easily with the button of his expensive dress pants.
We didn't need any foreplay. My body was already responding. It knew him, it knew the amounts of pleasure he could give.
I was already throbbing and he barely even touched me.
Edward was inside me then, one fast thrust and he buried himself to the hilt. I moaned loudly. That's why he made me stay after hours; that's why he sometimes brought me down to his car with him, to his apartment even.
He worked my body like an instrument. My body was already covered in a thin layer of sweat, my back aching from the awkward bended position he fucked me in.
His fingers tightened on my waist. I knew all the telltale signs of his orgasm approaching. His thrusts became rougher, the angle he penetrated me with also changed. The tip of his cock was hitting me on this sweet spot, the exact same spot he could also stimulate like no other, the spot that made me a pile of goo in his capable hands.
I screamed my release and he wasn't far behind me.
He didn't wait until I caught my breath, or even until I could support myself with my hands on the door. He pulled out of me and I heard the sound of his zipper being pulled up.
It was over for now. It was over and I didn't know whether to feel relief of despair.
"Isabella," he said. "Move away from the door. I don't have all night."
With shaky legs I stepped away and let him pass.
I got a sniff of his cologne again as he walked away from me without a second glance.
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