This is a little something I wrote for the Smut Monday Series on Twilighted, mainly because I really wanted to explain/explore these two a little more. After the last chapter I felt like they deserved a little time to shine on their own. Hope you guys like it! It's a little sad, if you follow The Highwayman you will know why. But I wanted them to have a little happiness too! Let me know what you think!


Every morning I woke, her face having plagued my dreams. Not the face of my departed wife, the one who had died whilst delivering me another son. No, it was Esme, Elizabeth's sister that slipped behind my eyes, toying with my mind as I slept. Her beauty entranced me, as it always did, but the scenes that played out were always of a more intimate nature, where I would see her eyes unguarded and full of her love for me.

Since she had come to live with us after Elizabeth's death, my family had become increasingly insistent I remarry. And increasingly vocal in their continuing disapproval of my wife. Esme and I had come to an agreement, that no one should know she was Elizabeth's sister. She was a widow and so had her husbands name to distance herself. If my family knew, they would send her away, overjoyed to be able to rub it in that my first wife had been a mistake, one I would always pay for.

Today was Edward's birthday, and the anniversary of his mother's death. I was trying, at Esme's insistence, to separate the two events but it was more difficult than I had believed it could be. I was planning to briefly stop by the boys' nursery this morning to wish Edward a happy birthday. But when I stepped to the open doorway, what I saw there stopped my heart.

Oh dear God.

Esme was on the floor playing with the boys, her hair tumbling out of its braid haphazardly. She was laughing and smiling with them guilelessly, happiness lighting up her face. Anthony was on her back, the both of them chasing Edward. I watched as she bounced and wriggled, causing Anthony to hoot in laughter when she nearly unseated him. This moment of innocent joy was marred only by my base reaction to seeing her like that, crawling on her hands and knees, her face flushed and her chest heaving with her labored breaths. My jaw clenched, and my heart raced. I had to turn away; I had to leave. Edward's call to me echoed down the hallway but I couldn't stop. If I turned back I would surely so something rash.

I went to my library, yearning for an escape into its cool, dark silence. There was no sound here, save my own labored breathing, and my racing mind could begin to quiet. I had felt this intense draw to her for over a year now, and my ability to resist was waning. As I sat hours passed before the door creaked quietly and I heard soft footsteps pad across the thick carpets. My head was in my hands, hanging between my knees as she knelt before me.

"Are you alright, Sir? Is there anything I can do?" Her voice was panicked as she clutched at my shoulders. I startled her when I raised my head, staring into her eyes.

"Carlisle, call me Carlisle, Esme." Pulling her to me, I kissed her, finally pressing my lips against her luscious rosey mouth. Inhaling, I drew her scent into my lungs, a combination of soap and fresh lavender. When I released her lips from mine, she whimpered and opened her eyes. She looked dazed and breathless, but not angry, of which I was glad.

"I can't stay away from you. Everywhere I turn in this house, I see you or can sense your touch in the room. And the care you show for the boys, taking the role of mother on and giving them so much love. I want some of that love from you, Esme. I need it."

I took her hands in mine, tugging until she was sitting in my lap.

"Esme, I can't live without you anymore. If you will have me, I will come to your room later tonight. If you will let me, just leave it unlocked. I won't force you; you can lock your door and there will never be mention of this again."

I opened her hands, kissing her palms before letting her hands drop to her sides. I stood, setting her down and walked to the door without looking back at her. I could only hope she would leave it unlocked.



Shaking, I slid to the floor. What should I do? What could I do? A man such as Carlisle Cullen, the Viscount, propositions you like that. There aren't many who would say no to him, even if he weren't a noble.

I closed my eyes and ground my palms against them, the palms he had just kissed so lovingly that they were still burning with heat. I would be a fool to say I didn't want him. A fool and a liar. But my situation here, my position was a complicated one. Only he knew of my true relation to the boys. I was a widow with no where to go and I couldn't risk losing this position now.

Feelings of guilt washed over me. How could I contemplate sleeping with my sister's husband? I knew him to be a good man, and he had loved her truly. We had wept together that night, the night of her death, our heads on each others shoulders. But the next morning I had to care for Edward, so I put my sadness away and focused on sharing the love my sister had for life with her children.

I thought back to this morning, playing with the boys in their nursery. When Carlisle had walked in, I assumed he meant to wish Edward a happy birthday and spend some time with them. But when I looked up at him, I felt myself shiver. His eyes were pinning me in place. The fire that instantly rushed through my veins was intoxicating and I wanted to follow him that minute, but I didn't. I couldn't. The boys were my responsibility.

When they had laid down for an afternoon nap, I made my way downstairs. Carlisle spent most of his time in the library alone so I checked there first. When I stood at the door and watched him hang his head, I rushed over. Then he kissed me and made his offer. I was so astounded by his words that I knelt there for several minutes, my head spinning.

After our exchange in his study, the rest of the day passed in a daze, the boys' dinner quiet. I ate quickly afterwards and made my way to my room. I knew in my heart I wouldn't deny him, but I was nervous none the less. My husband had been a cruel man, and when he came to our marriage bed it was always painful. I wondered what Carlisle would be like, as his kiss tender enough to bring me to tears. Perhaps it wasn't always painful, or perhaps he'd be quicker than my husband had been.

I lay abed, waiting nervously. The door creaked open and I stilled. My eyes were tightly shut, but I heard his footsteps and then felt his weight on the bed. His fingers played first with the strings of my bed-gown, then with the end of my braid. He worked to pull my hair free of the braid, until it was hanging down in one curly mass. Tangling his hands in the heavy weight, he tugged me up to sitting. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders nervously, watching as he untied my gown, pushing it down on my shoulders.

I blushed, unused to being undressed before a man. He handled me so carefully, as if I was made of the finest china or silk and it unnerved me. His hands slid down my arms, pushing the rough fabric of my gown as they went until he reached my hands. My breasts were bared to him, and I moved to cover myself, embarrassed. He held my hands away from me, so that he could see me.

"You are beautiful, Esme."

I just blushed again, and lowered my head. He leaned towards me and while I thought he meant to kiss me, he latched on to my aching nipple instead. I gasped at the sensation as he flicked his tongue lightly over the hard tip, before sucking it further into his mouth. My fingers dug into his thick hair, scratching at his scalp and clutching him to my breast.

The fire I felt earlier was back, rushing through me. When he detached from my now tender breasts, I whimpered. He chuckled and tugged at them with his fingers, the tips red and distended. Moving between my legs, he pushed my gown slowly up, caressing my skin as he moved. When he arrived at the juncture of my thighs I was curious. Why would he put his face…oh lord. I had only heard of this, and it was strange, the growls and groans he was making. But it felt so lovely.

His fingers were inside of me and he licked around my opening, hitting a particularly good spot every chance he could. I writhed on the bed, his arm pinning my hips down. It was too much, and then I felt such a flood of pleasure overwhelm me that I moaned loudly.

His eyes shot to mine, full of warning. No one could find out, no one could hear us.

I nodded, incapable of speech, my eyes as wide as saucers. When he moved up my body, I knew he would be doing what my husband had done before. I expected him to thrust into me roughly, but instead he pushed into me and started a slow rocking motion, while he tongued my breasts. I gasped at the sensation, not having ever felt this way before. I scratched at his scalp again, moaning quietly.

He watched my face, smiling before kissing me again. I begged for more, and he turned us over, situating me on top. Feeling vulnerable, I leaned down on his chest, but he sat up, continuing to kiss me. His hands were soft on my hips, urging me to move again, faster and faster. He moved one hand around my back, holding me close and one to my breast, his mouth already suckling the other. I bounced, throwing my head back, giving myself up to the maelstrom of feeling in my body. When his hand slipped down between us, rubbing at my sensitive nub, I lost control. Shaking and trembling as he plucked at the spot. I continued to ride him through my shuddering and he moved his hand back to my hip pulling himself out of me, before pressing himself against my belly. I felt him shake, releasing in hot spurts against my skin. He collapsed backwards on the bed, pulling me down on top of him, nuzzling his face into my hair.

I must have slept then, and when I woke he was watching my face, his fingers tracing my lips. He shifted me to the side before he stood, starting to dress.

"I understand this can't happen again." I whispered to him.

He frowned, before coming back over to the bed and leaning down to kiss me breathless.

"I've only had you once. If I had known, I would have taken my time with you."

He pulled me up against his chest and pulled my bed-gown off over my head.

"I can't leave without tasting you again, Esme."

He lay me down on the bed, his lips going to that place between my legs. I struggled against him nervously, but he held me down, forcing his lips on that very secret skin. I whimpered in pleasure as his fingers slid inside my slick, tender flesh. I felt myself tense up as waves of pleasure washed over me. His fingers continue their assault and I waited for him to stop, it was too much and then I was twisting up off the bed, my body shaking and twitching once more.

He crawled over me, kissing me, "If you truly want this to be our only night together I will respect your wishes."

He stood then and left me laying there wrapped in my covers. I didn't know if I would even have the strength to resist him, to keep myself from him now.