Disclaimer: The Twilight Saga & all associated characters are the copyrighted creation & property of Stephenie Meyer. Any other publicly recognized characters, brands, quotes or "catch phrases" are the sole trademarked &/or copyrighted property of their respective creators. No copyright or trademark infringement is purposely intended with this story. The plot & any original characters of this story are the property of Artemis Leaena, and may not be reposted, reproduced, or translated without the express permission of the author.

A/N:

This O/S originally appeared in the 2012 Fandom Against Juvenile Diabetes Compilation.

Thanks to caz12771 who pre-read, pre-tasted, and pre-approved this fic (she also licked the left-over chocolate from the bowl … aka Edward! *smirk*.) Also, loads of love to wmr1601 who beta'd this creation and made sure it was cooked to perfection before being served! The amazeballs banner for this fic was provided by the lickably sweet amandac3! =P

My multi-chapter fic, "Birthdays, Bars, & Bathrooms," has been nominated for the Bright Star Award over at the ISparkle Awards. Please go & vote for it! http: / theisparkleawards. moonfruit. com / # / nominees / 4562312492 (just remove the spaces) =D THANK YOU!

Bella & the Chocolate Peen Stalk

BPOV

"Bella, are you absolutely certain you want to do this?"

I fought the urge to roll my eyes at him. Edward was worried about my choice of activities for our most recent date night, but even though I loved his concern for my wellbeing - and his protectiveness never failed to warm my heart - this was something we had talked about for a very long time; I was tired of talking.

It had been almost six months since we'd been alone for any length of time, and the last time we'd had an entire night alone had been just before the birth of our first child – just over seven years ago. Now that our youngest was fully potty trained, my parents had agreed to take all three kids for an overnight visit, and I was not going to miss an opportunity like this to live out one of my fantasies.

Our sex life was far from boring or unsatisfactory, but over the past year, I had been intrigued by a few romance paperbacks one of the mothers at the Mommy and Me gym had recommended. The books were filled with pages upon pages of some of the most unspeakably kinky sex acts that - as astay-at-home mother and wife of a successful attorney who had been a virgin on her wedding night - should have shocked and sickened me. Quite the opposite, though, had happened. They had titillated and excited me to the point where I was initiating sex with Edward on almost a nightly basis.

Not that he minded, but he was naturally curious about where this new sex kitten – as he called it – side of me had come from. I was ashamed at first and refused to tell him of my recent novel addiction and how they aroused me, but he was patient with me, and I eventually confessed everything. I had expected him to be revolted and revile me for the debased creature I had become, but he admitted his own curiosity. There just never seemed to be a good time to bring the fantasies we frequently shared to life … until now!

I dropped my voice down by a half octave, until it was no more than a sultry whisper, and stole his favorite endearment for me as I grabbed his tie and pulled his face down closer to mine. "Yes, love."

I placed a fleeting kiss to the right corner of his mouth. His left side was treated to the teasing flick of the tip of my tongue. My teeth lightly scraped over the barely noticeable dimple in his chin, and his groan of pleasure prompted me to lick my way up to his lips where I invaded his mouth. I teased his tongue out to play with mine, and once it was past his pouty lips, I captured it and began sucking for all I was worth. Breathless moments later, I pulled back only to trail my lips to his ear where I moaned around my words.

"I want you to dominate me tonight." I nibbled on his earlobe and elaborated on my wishes. "I want to turn my will, and my body, over to you for you to use however you want." His breath hitched, and his hands came out of his trouser pockets to clamp onto my hips, drawing my body flush with his. I reeled him in and shattered the last of his objections when I reached down to rub his considerable package through his pants while murmuring, "Tonight, you own my body, and I will only find my pleasure when you allow."

I stepped back, letting his silky tie slowly glide through my fingers, and stopped when I was just out his arms' reach.

"Can you do that, Edward?" I maintained the deep and seductive timbre I'd adopted as I went on. "Will you bend my will to your own?"

He started fidgeting from one foot to the other.

"Will you use my body to slake your desire?"

He swallowed audibly and with difficulty as he loosened his tie, and I closed the distance between us until I was once again pressed tightly to his body.

"And … Master -" I lowered my eyes then raised them infinitesimally, licking my lips as I did so "- will you punish me if I don't obey your every command?"

In a flash, his hand was at my head, wrapping my hair around his digits and jerking until my head snapped back. His lips crashing to mine, and his tongue stealing into my mouth to joust with mine, smothered my shocked gasp. When he raised his head centuries later, we were both panting, but he had a hard, dark, lustful gleam to his verdant eyes. His forcefulness had me start tingling and throbbing in all of my private parts, but my panties became flooded at the gruff, gravelly tone he used as his lips hovered millimeters above mine and his eyes bored into my wide orbs.

"Be kneeling outside the kitchen door in ten minutes wearing that sheer, black lace, frilly number I got you for Valentine's Day last year and your black suede high heels. Wear your hair up, no panties, and no stockings." He released me and strode purposefully to the door of our bedroom, but stopped just before crossing the threshold. "Oh, and Isabella?" He glanced back over his shoulder, quirking a single brow. "You had better be bare."

He didn't wait for my response before leaving the room and shutting the door behind him. Fuck! I was so glad Alice, the mom who had turned me on to those novels and was now one of my dearest friends, had dragged me to the salon earlier today for a full wax. I didn't even want to think about how many times I would nick myself if I attempted a quick shave job in my very limited amount of time.

I suddenly realized that I'd been standing and staring off into space thinking about having to shave my hoo-ha for at least five minutes and sprinted over to my bureau. Ripping open the third drawer – the home of my "naughty things" – I started tossing satin and lace around with one hand while trying to strip out of my clothes with the other. Where was that baby-doll negligee? I knew which one he was talking about, but I couldn't for the life of me find it. I finally managed to get my panties off, and when they hit the ground, that's when my memory hit me, and I remembered where the nightie was.

No no no no no! I quickly checked the drawer a second time, but there was no changing the facts: the lingerie in question had been tossed out with my other old, worn, or damaged delicates when I did spring cleaning a few weeks ago. Damn it! I knew it wouldn't help, or change the situation, but I stomped my foot in frustration and then stomped it again in a panicked fit when I glanced at the clock and saw that I only had two minutes in which to present myself.

Figuring I was going to be punished anyway due to disobeying Edward's orders for my outfit, I took the time to calm myself and got dressed in a midnight blue chemise that fell to just below my ass cheeks. The bra cups were made of chiffon-backed lace embroidered with sparkly silver thread. The tiny, rolled spaghetti straps were made of the same semi-sheer chiffon, and the rest of the nightie was a shimmery silk material that was nearly transparent and glided over my skin like water.

Not willing to press my luck any further, I threw my hair up into a messy bun, grabbed the shoes he had requested, and dashed down the stairs. I stopped long enough to put the ridiculously high heels on – I think my sister-in-law had been trying to kill me when she convinced me to buy these for one of Edward's work parties last year – and tried to not look like a newborn giraffe as I walked to the kitchen door.

I chanced a look around and breathed a sigh of relief that Edward was nowhere in sight before sinking as gracefully as possible to my knees on the plush dining room carpet. My eyes continuously wandered around the room as I waited – for what, I didn't know – and I about jumped out of my skin when I heard, "You're late, Isabella," harshly, but quietly, growled near me.

He had, somehow, managed to sneak silently up behind me and was now standing with his knees mere inches from my back. I could feel the heat radiating off of him, even at this distance, and wanted to turn toward him. Before I got the chance to move, however, he crouched down, and his hand once again wound in my hair, pulling it back so far I was now staring at the ceiling. His mouth was so close to my ear I could feel his lips barely brushing against my skin, and his breath fanned through my hair as his strong, demanding voice sent shivers down my spine.

"I thought I told you to wear the black one."

"But it–"

"I don't care why you disobeyed me, pet. It won't change the punishment you'll receive."

His tongue licked roughly from where my shoulder met my neck all the way up my temple, where he placed a soft kiss. He released my hair and moved around to kneel in front of my and took my face between his large hands, his beautiful eyes searching mine for something, and his brow furrowed in worry. I thought he was going to say something from the way he worked his mouth, but he never did; he just continued to stare at me in a way that made me extremely nervous to the point of fidgeting. He finally dropped his forehead to mine, closed his eyes, sighed deeply, and spoke gently.

"Forgive my breaking form for a moment, my love, but I want to make one-hundred percent certain that this is what you want. I know we talked about it, researched it, and thought about what we each might like about it, but, baby …" he pulled his head back and tightened his hold on mine, prompting me to open my eyes and be faced with his steely forest pools "… I don't want to hurt you in any way. Do you understand?"

I swallowed and licked my lips as I thought about what he was trying to convey to me. In our secret, nighttime discussions of bringing this fantasy to life, he had expressed his concerns of leaving marks on my body, or of how being treated this way would make me feel emotionally. I wasn't going to lie, I was a little afraid of what I would feel like when it was all over, too. But I knew I wanted this, that Edward loved me more life itself, and anything hurtful he might say in the course of our playing wouldn't be his true feelings for me or our relationship. I was secure in our relationship and had faith in my husband.

My hand found its way up to stroke lightly at his slightly stubbly cheek. I turned my head as much as his grip would allow and placed a quick kiss on the bottom of his palm. When I faced him again, I smiled as reassuringly as I could and stilled my hand, my fingers minutely flexing along his jaw line.

"I'm sure about this, Edward. I trust you, and I know we're only playing roles in a game; this isn't who or what we are in here." I dropped my hand down from his jaw to lie against his muscled chest right above where his heart was beating furiously. "I know you love and respect me; otherwise, I would never allow us to do this. You could never hurt me. Do you understand?"

He blessed me with the special crooked smile reserved only for when he was trying to charm me and leaned in to brush his lips against mine tenderly. I moaned and tried to angle myself into a better position to deepen the kiss, but his restraining hands refused to yield and took his plush lips away from me. His low chuckle grated on my excited nerves but incited me to open my eyes and take in his amused expression.

"If you're sure, baby?"

I nodded confidently.

"Then let's not waste any more time."

A swift peck to my lips, a lingering finger drawing a line down the side of my neck, and he stood, leaving me alone and tingling in anticipation on the floor. My eyes followed him as he took two or three steps back, and appreciated how hot he looked tonight in his faded, loose fitting blue jeans and simple white T-shirt. He stood there for several moments, his head cocking from side to side as if he were attempting to solve some sort of puzzle. I guess he found the answer he was seeking because he smirked down at me and winked before stepping forward again to begin moving my unresisting body around.

When he had me positioned exactly how he wanted – my ass resting on my heels, legs spread wide, hands on my knees, back straight, and chest thrust forward – he again stepped back, sighing in satisfaction. There was approval and unadulterated lust shining in his eyes as he completed his appraisal of me, but those depths quickly hardened as he started commanding me in an authoritative tone.

"You will not look at me unless I give you permission."

I bowed my head and dropped my eyes to the floor.

"You will not speak unless I say you may, and when you do, you will only address me as Master. And tonight, your orgasm belongs to me; you will not come until I allow. Do you understand?"

I opened my mouth to confirm, but instantly snapped it shut. I was already oh-for-two on the punishment front, so why add fuel to the fire – unless we're talking about the fire between my legs, that is. His approach had been stealthy, and his hand gently stroking me from scalp to nape was my indicator that he stood just behind me.

"Very good, Isabella." His hand trailed over to my shoulder where one of the thin straps held my nightie up, and he began tracing a single finger along the line of the material. "This is a beautiful piece of lingerie, but it's not the one I bid you to wear." His finger followed the line of my shoulders across to the opposite side to finger the other strap. "For this infraction, you will be spanked." I shivered in a mixture of fear and expectation. "I believe four per cheek ought to do the trick; especially with you counting and thanking me each time. Don't you agree, my sweet?"

Again, my lips moved, but I refused to allow a single sound to break that barrier. Out of the corner of my eye I saw his bare feet approaching – how did I miss that his feet were bare in my earlier perusal? – from the side, coming to a stop with his toes practically touching my thigh. His hand appeared in front of me and his voice was calm, serene even.

"Come."

I slipped my hand into his and rose from the floor with his assistance, still being mindful to keep my eyes cast downward. He led me into the kitchen and over to the usually oblong breakfast table, but it was more of a rounded square now with its two middle leaves removed. A glance to either side showed me that there was only one chair, the rest of them having been moved over to the wall of windows that looked out onto my herb garden. Did he wish for me to sit in the chair?

My question was answered as he maneuvered me so that my belly pressed against the edge of the dark, maple wood. He used a single hand and moderate pressure between my shoulder blades to push me down until I was bent at the waist, my upper half laid out on the shiny surface. His warm body sprawled atop mine, his hands snaked under me to grab and massage my breasts, and his husky whisper filled my ear. "Reach out and grasp the edge of the table, Isabella."

My arms immediately obeyed him and my fingers wrapped over the ledge in front of me.

"Don't forget to count."

He left me with a damp, open mouthed kiss to my neck, a chill sweeping over me as he moved away while trailing a single hand down the curve of my spine. Both of his hands settled on my ass, one on each cheek, and he started kneading and massaging my fleshy orbs, his fingers digging deeper and deeper into me with every passing moment.

"Do you remember in our research about safe words, love?"

I answered with a silent nod that earned me a low chuckle and a kiss to the dimples above my ass.

"Very good. So, if you are uncomfortable with what we are doing, and you want me stop, what do you say?"

I remained silent.

"You may answer me."

"Red, Master."

He hummed in satisfaction, and I could hear the smile in his voice. "And what do you say if you think you are uncomfortable, and you want me to slow down but not stop?"

I couldn't, for the life of me, imagine anything he would do that I wouldn't enjoy. We had thoroughly discussed what we would and wouldn't be comfortable trying. For instance, I wanted to try various types of impact for play or punishment – hence my current predicament – but he was uncomfortable striking me with anything but his open palm, and only on my ass. He wanted to explore anal play and sex, but I objected to anything other than his fingers getting anywhere near my ass – at least for now. A sharp pinch to my right thigh brought me out of my reverie, and his brusque, "Answer me, Isabella," reminded me that he was still awaiting my answer.

"Sorry … um …" What had he asked? Oh yeah! "Yellow, Master!"

"Remember those words, baby."

He was rubbing far more vigorously now, and a delicious warmth began spreading throughout my entire body, its epicenter being my hindquarters. Suddenly a stinging blow to my right cheek had me gasping in shock.

"Isabella," Edward barked out.

Shit! I was supposed to be counting. My voice was shaky with apprehension when I responded a split second later.

"One. Th-thank you, M-master."

His fingers bit into me as he rubbed where he had just struck, and he bent down and filled my ear with heavy, raspy words; he was severely aroused.

"I won't add further punishment, angel, because you remembered to thank me, but next time …" he squeezed his hand firmly on me "… I won't be so lenient."

I gulped and nodded my understanding as he set to work again on my punishment for my choice of attire. By the time the last smack landed on my fiery skin, I was sobbing so hard I was practically incoherent. It wasn't even that it had hurt, because Edward hadn't been all that forceful with me. In all honesty, while my backside was on fire, I was more humiliated and frustrated than physically hurt, which is why I didn't "safe word." And Edward's current actions weren't helping matters, either.

He was still standing behind me, but I could feel him gently massaging the fire away, leaving a not-wholly-unpleasant numbness behind. Occasionally, I would feel the wetness of his tongue as it laved my sensitive skin, and sparks of desire would shoot through me and mingle with the unease as my brain struggled with the thought that my husband was licking my ass. This is where my frustration came in: I was mortified at what we were doing and how I reacted to it, but I was so fucking turned on by the whole situation that I could feel my arousal trickling onto my inner thighs.

I assumed that Edward hadn't noticed my current state of liquefaction, but I was obviously wrong. His tongue snaked down my left cheek, across the crease between it and my thigh, and I inhaled sharply when it traveled around to start lapping at the wetness pooled between my legs. He cleaned both of my inner thighs before moving up to flick rapidly at my throbbing and distended clit, stopping every couple of seconds to suck my soaked flesh between his lips and hum.

My teeth were clenched over my bottom lip to keep the words of encouragement I would normally offer my orally talented husband when he went down on me at bay, but it was a struggle. I was whimpering and writhing, sweating in my efforts not to dive head first off the cliff I was teetering on the edge of. My legs were shaking, and my breathing was a series of irregular gasps, hitches, and wheezes, but I didn't want to earn yet another punishment so soon after having experienced the first. I was two seconds away from damning the consequences and letting go my tenuous hold when Edward pulled away after giving me one more long lick from top to bottom with the flat of his tongue.

"You are so good at this, baby."

There was genuine awe in his voice, and the approval I heard there filled me with pride and soothed the sting of not being able to come. His hands wrapped under me and around my waist, one of them sliding up my torso and coming to rest between my boobs, as he slowly pulled me upright and against his chest. Tender lips pressed to my ear, and worry laden words washed over me.

"Are you alright, precious?"

He hadn't given me permission to speak again, so I simply nodded my head as he trailed kisses down my neck, stopping to nibble at the juncture where it met my shoulder, and continuing onward until he was feathering kisses over my upper bicep. His hands hadn't been still while he was worshipping my skin, and they were currently high up on my shoulders, massaging away the stiffness from having had my arms in such a strained position for so long. I felt cherished by his care and concern, and it reaffirmed to me that playing like this had been an excellent idea. When he was done, he trailed his fingers down my arms, and took both of mine in one of his, lightly turning and pulling me toward the kitchen island.

When we reached the granite topped fixture, he reached over and plucked a folded and tee-peed piece of paper from the center, bringing it up and placing it in my now freed hands. He placed a lingering kiss to my cheek and whispered against my skin.

"Have this ready and waiting for me on the table in thirty minutes."

He quickly turned and strode out of the room, leaving me shaking in my nervous arousal. I opened the parchment and saw that it was a menu of sorts. He wanted a grilled steak, prepared medium rare and sliced into strips, roasted herbed potatoes, and steamed asparagus. His supper request was rounded out with the addition of a chocolate mousse for dessert. I was very thankful he had actually told me that part of his plan earlier today, because there was no way I would be able to make a decently chilled mousse in less than thirty minutes.

I got to work preparing the food, making sure to dice the potatoes small so they'd finish in the allotted time. I was wondering, as I cooked, if I should be plating for one or two, but decided since there was only one chair, that was probably how many people I was to do place settings for. Once the steak was off the grill and resting on a board, and the asparagus was steaming, I got out one of the fancy placemats we used for company and set the table with Edward's cutlery, napkin, and stemware – would he want to drink wine tonight? We hadn't discussed including alcohol in our games and how it might impair our judgment and/or senses.

At the appointed time, his steaming plate of food was arranged on the table, a bucket of ice with a large bottle of Pellegrino and one of the White Merlots we'd recently tried and fallen in love with in it was situated to the side so Edward could decide which he would prefer to drink. I had the ceramic bowl with the mousse sitting in a large metal bowl also filled with ice, a single dessert dish and spoon just off to the side of the rest of his dinner service. He hadn't given me any instructions on where or how I was to be waiting for him, so I stood behind the chair, my hands clasp behind me, and my eyes downcast as I tried not to fidget.

I felt him reenter the room before I heard him. Even after eight years of marriage, and three years of dating before that, there was still an electric chemistry that sparked between us like lightning from a Tesla Coil when we got near each other. I shuddered under its intensity as he pressed himself against my back and buried his nose in the crook of my neck, inhaling deeply, but touching me in no other way.

"This looks incredible, my love, but I'd prefer to use a different place setting."

His palms flattened on the outside of my thighs and started ascending achingly slow, his fingers catching on the hem of my chemise to drag it upward as he continued north. When he reached my underarms – having maneuvered his hands under my arms as they climbed – he flicked his tongue over my earlobe and whispered a simple, "Up," before he resumed skimming my flesh with his heat as he removed my only article of clothing. Once it cleared my upstretched hands, it was tossed unceremoniously to the side, and his digits scorched a path back down my limbs, over my shoulders, and around to my front, coming to rest over my agonizingly tender breasts.

I couldn't help but watch in fascination as he squeezed them in tandem, molding my swollen mounds to the shape of his hands, his fingers rolling and pulling my nipples until I was panting and dripping. As soon as I arched my back just enough for my ass to make contact with his obvious erection, his hands dropped away and he stepped back with a quiet, rumbling chuckle. Bastard!

"Remove the placemat, Isabella, and sit on the table, facing my chair, the plate of food in your lap."

I wanted to argue with him and had to bite back my protest; this was where I fed our babies every morning, I didn't want it covered in my streaming arousal. I must have hesitated too long as a sharp slap to my right ass cheek got me moving to do his bidding. Climbing up on the wooden surface was slightly more difficult than I had thought it would be, but after moving the linen mat, I managed to settle myself so that the backs of my knees were pressed against the edge of the table, and his plate rested comfortably in my lap, my hands cradling the edges of the china.

Edward made a show of situating himself in the chair in front of me, and with my head still bowed in submission, I was able to get a good look at the devilish smirk he wore. I didn't know what he had in mind here, but I knew from the twinkle in his eyes that I was going to enjoy it as much as he was. His nimble fingers wrapped around my ankles and teased along the tops of my feet for several moments before wandering timidly up and around my calves and stopping to play with the contours of my knees. I thought his caresses would move to my thighs next, so it surprised me when his palms covered the insides of my knees and began slowly pushing them apart.

"You might want to grab hold of that plate, pet, before it falls, and I have to punish you."

As soon as I lifted the plate from my legs, he jerked my thighs apart quickly; the motion caused my ass to scoot forward. My arousal dampened skin had stuck slightly to the table, and it squeaked as I was dragged closer to the edge. Edward moved closer to my now prominently displayed sex and took his time getting settled. When he was satisfied with his positioning, he reached around me and opened the sparkling mineral water, pouring the chilled liquid into the wine goblet I had placed by his utensils.

I watched hungrily as he brought the crystal glass to his seductive lips and took a sip, the tip of his tongue peeking out to catch an errant droplet that had lingered on the corner of his mouth and dragging across to the other side of that rosy strip of flesh while he set the stemware back down. He leaned forward with his eyes closed and inhaled deeply through his nose, humming and smiling as he seemed to savor whatever aroma he found there.

"That smells divine, Isabella. I can't wait to taste what you have for me."

I cast a quick glance at the plate of steaming food I held parallel to my chest, making it just slightly higher than his head. A suspicion that he may not have been talking about the food sprang to life in my brain and was corroborated a second later when his long index finger slipped between my folds and disappeared inside of me. My jaw dropped on a gasp, and my hips had a mind of their own, grinding against his hand as he curled his finger toward my outer wall and began massaging me internally.

He brought me, once again, right to the edge of insanity, to the point where I was fighting not to bounce and fuck the hell out of his finger, and then as quickly as it was there, his hand was gone. I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. I wanted to toss the plate of food aside, mount my husband, and ride him like he was my only escape from the hounds of Hell nipping at my feet. Instead, I whimpered piteously, futilely rooting for the non-existent friction the slick tabletop offered as he laughed and then sucked his finger into his mouth, licking it clean.

"Hm, I was right. That was sweeter than nectar from the gods."

I didn't know about that, but his words were warm and smooth like drizzled honey, and I was throbbing where his hand had just been – where I wanted his cock to be, so I could finally find some relief. His uncanny ability to somehow know whatever I was thinking – alright, so I wasn't exactly subtle in my attempt to hump our dining table – had him chuckling as he brought his hands up to still my movements.

"Easy, love, or have you forgotten who owns your pleasure tonight?"

His chastisement was soft but, when combined with his fingers digging into my hips, very effective. I stopped wiggling and dug deep inside for whatever shred of self-control I had left. This game wouldn't end because I couldn't exercise a little patience, damn it, but it didn't mean I had to be happy about it! Sensing my capitulation was somewhat reluctant, his mirth returned in full force.

"You are treacherously gorgeous when you pout, sweetheart, but if you want your reward, you need to be a good girl."

He hadn't asked me a question, but I still felt compelled to nod my understanding.

"Good. Now …" his voice took on a harsher tone "… you've already been punished for disobeying when it came to what to wear, but you had another infraction, didn't you?"

I nodded again, meekly this time. I had been hoping he would overlook my tardiness, but it didn't seem as though I had that kind of luck. His fingertips were drawing haphazard little designs on the tops of my thighs, and his words held a sultry edge.

"How did you displease me?"

I started to open my mouth, but closed it again, remembering that he hadn't given me permission to speak. I wasn't so sure I liked that aspect of our game and made a mental note to talk to him about it for any future playing we might do. He bent down and placed several small kisses on the inside of my left thigh, his lips tickling me as he spoke against my trembling flesh.

"You may speak, Isabella."

I took a deep breath to steady my nerves before replying. "I disobeyed you, Master."

"How?"

His tongue was now tracing patterns on my skin, making it more difficult for my brain and mouth to cooperate and formulate an answer.

"I … um … I was …" I moaned when his tongue traveled up to flick my clit several times and then move down the inside of my right thigh "… was l-late, M-master."

"Yes …" he took a moment to suck vigorously on my inner thigh, kissing gently at the mark now forming "… you were." His head came up and I could see through my lowered lashes he was smiling up at me. "For that, my sweet, you lose your dinner. However, should I decide to be merciful, you need to thank me properly after every bite I may – or may not – allow. Now, lower my plate, Isabella, so can eat my supper."

I brought the plate down level with my legs and held on tightly to it as he started forking up bits of food. The sight of his lips wrapping around the tines of the utensil, the moans of pleasure echoing from his mouth every now and again, and the sweep of his lashes as he closed his eyes during a particularly pleasurable bite were all combining to make my diminished, but not extinguished, throbbing more prevalent – and maybe make me a wee bit jealous that I wasn't able to have a taste.

Lost in my thoughts again, I didn't see the piece of meat approaching me until it was hovering centimeters from my lips; if I stuck my tongue out, I would be able to taste the juicy morsel.

"You've been a very good girl, love. Would you like a bite?" I nodded, perhaps a trifle too quickly, as his chuckling caused his arm to bounce a little. "Then open those plump lips for me, baby."

His voice could have melted butter, and I knew he was doing it on purpose. Well, two could play this game, Mr. I'm-so-fucking-sexy-I-can-get-my-wife-off-with-a-single-look Cullen. I opened my mouth wider than was necessary, allowing my tongue to come out and wrap around the piece of steak and pull it to my waiting lips. I didn't take the bite immediately, but let it touch my bottom lip so that some of the juices collected there. After closing my lips and pulling back, I quickly chewed and swallowed, but didn't thank him right away. First, I slipped the tip of my tongue back out to lick along my bottom lip, moaning as I did so. It was only after I heard him swallow thickly and quietly mutter, "Fuck me," that I breathily murmured my scripted line.

"Thank you, Master."

We replayed that move several more times until the plate was empty. He was still chewing the final bite of asparagus as he stood and removed everything from the table except the chocolate mousse, leaving me sitting as I'd been throughout the rest of the meal, except now my hands rested on top of my thighs. At no point did I look over to see what he was doing, but the distinct sound of his belt rattling and cloth rustling filled the now quiet kitchen. Even though I kept my head hung and my eyes low, I could see as he approached that he was as naked as I was. Correction: he was more naked … I still had my shoes on.

He stepped between my wide spread legs, his beautifully erect cock drawn to the hot springs it wanted to go swimming in. Like a divining rod alerting its bearer to the presence of water, it pointed proudly and bobbed in jubilation. His hands came up to cup my jaw on either side, sweeping along my flaming skin, as his lips lowered and attached themselves to the juncture of my collarbones. He kissed, licked, and nipped his way up one side of my throat, all the way to my ear, where he engulfed my lobe and suckled greedily.

"Do you want dessert, my love?"

His words washed over me like a cleansing spring rain, invigorating and rejuvenating me, and leaving my entire body vibrating with lust and desire. I enthusiastically nodded my head and prayed that he was on the menu.

"For the rest of the night, Isabella, you may speak and look at me. I want to hear your sounds and words as I plunge into your depths over and over. I want to see your eyes come alive in wonderment as you come so hard you'll think your bones are going to shatter."

Holy hell this man was far too evil and sexy for his – and my resistance's – own good, but damn me if I didn't want what he was offering me.

"Yes, Master …" I turned my face and licked him from chin to earlobe, nibbling harshly on the irresistible nub of flesh "… may I please have some dessert?"

Did he just whimper? Well, well, score one for Mrs. Cullen.

I was so lost in my self-congratulation at having knocked a Titanic sized hole in Edward's control that my brain didn't register his swift movements. Before I could decipher his intent, he had dragged me off the table to stand in front of him, reaching behind me to pull the bowl of ice forward to occupy my now vacated seat as he stepped back.

"On your knees, vixen."

It never occurred to me to disobey, and I boldly held his gaze as I carefully sank down to kneel on the pale hardwood floor before him. He reached out and grasped my chin, tilting my head farther back, and he spoke with force but not in anger."I was going to spoon feed you bites of this chocolate confection …" his other hand lingered on the edge of the metal bowl containing the mousse "… between licking dollops of it off your delectable body and then fuck you senseless, but after that stunt, I think you need to work to earn your release on my cock."

My jaw dropped open, and I knelt there, mesmerized by the sight of my husband dipping his hand into the fluffy, whipped chocolate dessert and bringing it over to coat his erection in a layer of sweet deliciousness.

"That's exactly how I want your mouth, Isabella: wide open and ready for my dick. Here's your dessert, baby, and if you clean me well enough, I'll let you have it in your pussy."

My eyes flew to his in disbelief. Not at his request, but the word he'd just said. He was visibly cringing, waiting for me to end our playtime, I was sure. He knew I hated that word, but I should have known when we discussed upping the ante on the dirty talk he knew I loved while we played that it might make an appearance. I had to admit, though, whereas I normally balked at that word, I found it incredibly hot right now. I could see the panic flaring to life in his emerald eyes as he started to whisper his apologies, and I knew I needed to do something quickly to let him know to not only not break character, but that I liked what he'd just said.

I lowered my eyes to floor for a moment, then raised them just enough so that I was looking at him through my lashes. I assumed the most innocent and submissive tone I could muster and set his mind at ease while simultaneously teasing him further. "I want Master's cock filling my pussy, so I'll make sure he's sparkling clean."

He couldn't have been more surprised if I had told him I was pregnant with quintuplets, and I sent a quick prayer to God that that would never happen should we decide to try for any more kids. A brilliant, but devious, smile split his face, and his eyes darkened with the return of his passion. He reached over and grabbed the back of my head, stepping closer to me so I wouldn't have to crawl to him.

"You're only to use your mouth, Isabella, and don't miss a single spot."

It would be more difficult, but not impossible, without the use of my hands, that was for sure. I was up for the challenge though. This was something I was very good at, having had ten years to perfect my technique – just because we didn't have intercourse before we were married didn't mean we hadn't found other ways to satisfy each other.

Fortunately, I was blessed with little to no gag reflex and immediately took him into my mouth and down my throat to where my nose was nestled in his soft curls. Hollowing out my cheeks, I applied as much suction as possible and pulled back, gathering the vast majority of the mousse into a giant glob on the back of my tongue. I looked up and captured his gaze with mine as I swallowed; he was already practically clean, but I was going back for more.

Starting at the base of his shaft, I flattened out my tongue and slowly traveled his entire length up to his engorged head, which I surrounded by my lips and sucked hard while twisting my head in a windshield wiper type motion. Both of his hands were now filled with fistfuls of my hair, and he guided my mouth back down, setting a fast rhythm. I made sure to keep myself wrapped tightly around him and swallowed as he hit the back of my throat each time.

"Oh fuck, Bella … yes, baby … I love … so good … your mouth … fuck …"

He was thrusting his hips in quick snaps, his breaths shallow rattles in his chest, and I could feel him swelling in my mouth. I knew he was so close to letting go, and I wanted him to. I wanted to taste him as he exploded on my tongue, but that wasn't part of his plan. He gave up on having me "clean" him as he pulled back and popped out of my mouth.

"Up on the table, now," he rasped as he dipped his napkin in the now-melted ice and used the damp cloth to clean any remaining stickiness off his dick.

My ass had barely touched the tabletop when he grabbed my legs under the knees and spread me wide open like a buffet for one. I fell backward with a shriek of pleasure as he sat down in the chair and buried his face between my legs in a single motion. His hands were on my inner thighs, holding me open for him to devour to his heart's content, and his tongue was feasting on the liquid streaming out of me.

He plunged his tongue into my entrance and brought one of his hands up to rub tight little circles on my swollen and super-sensitive clit, driving me wilder and wilder with every stab of his talented pink appendage.

I was clawing at the table, and jerking my hips up, encouraging him to go harder, faster, deeper, something. It was right there, my release. It was hovering just out of reach, but it was getting closer with every passing second, and my legs were quaking, my inner walls clenching around his tongue.

"Fuck, yes, Master, yes!"

He hummed, and I felt it reverberating out to my every extremity. "Fee fie foe fum, I smell a naughty girl who really wants to come."

His tongue attacked me with greater fervor, and yes, I really did need to come.

"Oh God … fuck … fuck … almost … going to …"

A cold breeze swept over me as he suddenly stood, but I didn't have time to shiver or wonder what was happening as he threw my legs up over his shoulders and slammed into me. His pace was fast and punishing, but I was so far gone, I didn't care.

"Look at me, Isabella."

I had closed my eyes against the intensity of what he was making me feel, but at his command, I opened them and was met by the wild animal glowing from within his eyes. His thrusts became harder and faster as he panted.

"Come for me, Isabella. Come on my cock, baby."

Was it his words? Or was I just that ready to find my release? Did it matter at this point? My back arched up off the table, and I screamed his name until my voice gave out and my throat was on fire as I gave myself over to the most powerful orgasm I'd ever experienced. I was wracked with rolling waves of spasms, and before they could even begin to subside, Edward picked my hips up and pounded into me at a new angle that started the tidal wave anew but with higher, more frequently cresting waves.

I could do no more than screech as yet another orgasm took me, and I was blinded by bursts of white hot stars behind my eyes. My own release was so overpowering I barely felt Edward explode within me, but I heard his keening and feral cry of release seconds before he collapsed in a twitching heap on top of me.

Too soon, our breathing returned to normal and I became aware of tender, chaste kisses covering my shoulder on a path to my mouth where supple lips settled over mine in a deep kiss that left me breathless when we separated.

"Are you alright, angel?"

I giggled and nodded. "Except for the dead weight on my chest, and my jellied limbs, I'm great. Fantastic even."

He joined in my laughter, even though my voice was gravelly and strained, and placed one more open-mouthed kiss on my neck before levering himself off of me and helping me to sit upright. When I looked up, he was rubbing the back of his neck, and he refused to meet my eyes.

"Edward?"

I'd be lying if I said he wasn't starting to freak me out with his recalcitrance. Had he not enjoyed what we just did? He finally looked up, granting me a sheepish, half-hearted grin that didn't reach his sparkling emerald gems.

"That … um … wasn't too much for you, Bella?"

I couldn't help it; I knew he was only concerned that maybe he had somehow emotionally traumatized me or physically hurt me, but I couldn't contain my laughter and found myself bent over gasping for air as tears streamed down my face.

"I'll take that as a 'no' then," he grumbled.

I sat up and tried to rein in my amusement, but the man was just so ridiculous in his overprotectiveness sometimes. Jumping down from the table, I made my way over to him, stumbling only once – he really had worked me over good. When I reached him, I took his face between my hands, forcing him to look at my smiling face.

"Baby, did I, at any point, say 'red'?"

He shook his head.

"And do you trust me to tell you, truthfully and completely, if you had done anything to cause me harm?"

He thought for a moment, and I could tell he was thinking of all the times I had fallen, or otherwise caused myself injury and didn't tell him until he discovered the bruises or healing cuts after the fact. After a moment, though, he nodded his head in the affirmative.

"Then just be proud of yourself that you fulfilled your promise to fuck me so hard it would feel as if my bones were shattering, and deal with the fact that your wife enjoyed every second of it."

I smirked at his shocked and shaken look, and then reached around to swat the ass cheek closest to me, laughing when he jumped and yelped.

"Now clean up this mess, Master." I snickered at the tiny flame of desire that sparked to life in his eyes. "I'm going to go take a shower and go to bed. Someone fucked me senseless tonight, and I'm too exhausted to clean up."

I turned on my freakishly high heel and added an extra wiggle or two to my hips as I made my way to the door where I stopped and looked back over my shoulder.

"But if that someone's a good boy, he can join me in the shower for a thorough cleaning. After all, I think there might be a spot or two of chocolate I missed."

His breath hitching on a gasp followed me out the door.

A/N:

Soooooooo ... love it? Hate it? Wanna spend a quiet evening alone with it! LMBO Until next time my lovely little kittehs! *blowing chocolate kisses*

Don't forget to vote for "Birthdays, Bars, & Bathrooms" in the ISparkle Awards, and come follow (a)artemisleaena on Twitter or artemisleaena(a)aol dot com over on Facebook to listen to me babble incoherently from time to time! LOL