Age of Edward Contest
Title: The Gilded Mirror
Type of Edward: Victorian
The Gilded Mirror
"And what of his quality bride, Edward?" The low voice that washed between them was nearly drowned by the decadent music filling the expansive hall.
"Jaded, accordingly." Nonchalance. A dismissive flourish of a sculpted brow. "Though my hands were not the first or even the twelfth."
"Scoundrel and scandal!" the feigned gasp was expected. "What would our good Chancellor Newton say of his Lady Jessica, disregarded of both propriety and pride?"
"Perhaps he would agree. His Lady can no more fuck than a mule could pass for a horse." I grew tired of this game. My dear brother, Emmett judged our short-circle society in terms of conquest. Vicarious living, perhaps. Unlike most women who gave pretense of their courtly manner, his Lady-Wife was precisely that. A lady upon the arm. A voracious whore for his pleasure, behind closed doors.
"Scoundrel is not strong enough of a word, dear Edward. I fear your victories surpass my own, at last." Emmett chuckled, raising the decanter to refill our glasses. A fresh splash of red overtook pale crystal.
"At last, my brother? The same woman in many positions does not count more than once." I scoffed, watching the play of pale frosted light trickle over the gilded refinement of our fathers Ballroom.
"I might beg to differ, Edward. If the woman is chaste." Deflowering a budded rose required extraordinary effort, for so little return. The nectar was far more ripe on one already in full-bloom.
"There is hardly such a creature more mythical than one whom is truly chaste or worth the effort." My words fell over the smooth rim of my wine glass. I scanned the room, watching how graciously my mother, Esme played polite hostess to the women she considered equal in our society. How beautifully she ignored the wanting glances that fell my way, with husbands naught but a breath away from their ruined treasures.
Women who craved pleasure, craved me. And I was in no short supply to cede to them, what they desired. The game would, of course, continue tonight. I would find my prey soon enough, a passing vessel to swallow my lust.
"Edward. What of her?" The way Emmett's lips curled around the word made me take a long scent of my wine.
"Had, I am sure." I dismissed him with my words but still followed his eyes. How wrong, could I have been?
An orchid amongst thorny roses.
"Somehow, brother, I doubt such is the case." Emmett said, appraisingly. I could detect the subtle difference in his tone, it held no desire, merely appreciation. "This must be, the future Miss Isabella Black."
She stood as still and serene as a painting. Gathered in a fine silken gown, pale-blue as the sea before a storm, I could see the corseted heave of her exquisite form. Long mahogany tendrils arranged, curled and pinned, dripped down her Swan-like neck into the rich wealth of her narrow back. Her lips formed into a dulcet smile, glossed pink to match her porcelain-flush skin.
But it was the steadiness of her eyes, the rich warmth of earthen brown beneath too-long lashes that made my fingers curl tighter against my glass. How delicate her silken gloved hand rested against the forearm of her fiancé. She leaned ever-so-politely upon him for support, daring to show vulnerability in this unfamiliar circle. Yes, the American. I had heard-tell of her arrival to Somerset England, giving little mind to the caterwauling and gossip Alice so loved to partake in.
Eternally, my beloved sprite of a sister, was intent on playing match-maker, scanning expanding social circles for greater plausibility. Apparently, that realm included the near-impossible. As it would seem, my proclivities were disrupting to Alices' finer sensibilities and she was under the extensive impression that it was time I settle down.
Settle down. The word hung in my thoughts with disdain. How, when there was such wine to sample?
"Edward, Emmett!" Esme waved her white gloved hand, beckoning us to her new found delight.
"Shall we?" Emmett smoothed the line of his surcoat, adjusting the deep velvet brocade in a mock-courtly fashion. Far-fallen from a gentleman.
"I thought you would never ask." I smiled roguishly, running my hand through wild bronze tendrils, making them even more charmingly indecent. Emmett awaited me as I lifted a spare glass of wine from the tray left solely for our purposes.
"Oh, Emmett." I said as we walked in step, mirroring confidence in our gait. "Sound the hunting horn."
"Do not fidget, My Isabella." Jacob adjusted his jacket, though his eyes never left mine. This was all so overwhelming. How would I ever find my way to fit myself in to this society of birthed aristocracy?
"Forgive me, dear Jacob. I fear I am not nearly as prepared for this entrance as I have pretended." My corset felt too tight, my dress superfluous. The pins arranged in my long, curled hair, were sure to leave fresh marks in my skin for all eternity. Miss Angela Webber, my only friend in Somerset, had painstakingly arranged me to near perfection.
And then, she feigned an illness and left me to the wolves. Of course, she warned me fully of what kind of den I was preparing to enter, on the arm of fiancé. "Ward yourself against the Cullens, Isabella! They are potent charmed, and the one, Edward will vex you to the edge of restraint. Though I dare say, it was worth it!".
Indeed, what an intrigue. And apparently it ran rampant in Somerset. I would be aghast if I had been home, in America. Bawdiness was not spoken of in a flush, it was condemned with puritanical fire!
"You are radiant, beloved. Simply glowing." Jacob was prideful of me, more now than ever before. And he, looking so dashing in military dress. I was never so eager as tonight, to wish the courtship had ended and the deflowering begun.
I nodded my head softly, one gloved hand pressed upon his forearm as it crooked to me. With my free hand I held the mid-edge of my dress, a much needed prevention to keep me from falling over the long hem, we began the journey.
Steeled in resolve, I walked with my fiancé into the instantly parting double doors of the Cullen Manse, a summer-home of impeccable design. The decadence was not lost on me, nor the opulence of people filtering between the main halls and the ballroom. Like ghosts they parlayed, a phantasmal swish of fabric, a trammel of bated whispers. It was as though they played at intrigue in the way children play at war.
Welcomed by violin and harpsichord, I glided into the fray of on-lookers on the arm of my beloved. A rush of faces formed around me, eager to make appropriate formalities. But the fluidity of overly made-up countenance and rosy-cheeked gentlemen split aside like the red-sea for the one I knew instantly as Esme Cullen, the grand hostess of this affluent event.
"My dear Miss Swan, a pleasure that the treasure of dear Mr. Jacob Black could join us this night!" She was utterly charming, dainty and delicate in every inflection. "Please, you must meet my husband Carlisle and my dear sweet children. Of course, they are flitted about like banshees in the night."
With a turn of her elegantly curled tresses, she waved politely in center of the room. A clarion call, I was certain. Especially when I laid my eyes upon…him.
You will know him, Angela whispered, by the bronze of his hair, wild as a thousand fingers tugging with lust upon the roots itself! Beware his eyes, she had nearly fainted, fanning herself with exasperation. They are lustful with unspoken promises. A single glance at this Incubus and I promise you will find the world has gone away from you.
I had considered the declarations bold and fantastical. How wrong I was proved to be.
Edward moved with feline grace, an elegance that be-swore his prowess. Beside him, the impressive build of his brother, I assumed. A family so beautiful must surely be be-witched. I made the fatal error then, of meeting the dark green eyes of the demon cast in mortal form.
"Jacob." His lyrical voice made me feel tipsy. And though he spoke to my fiancé, his eyes never left mine. "A pleasure. I prayed for your safe return from America. I see you have brought with you, a glorious prize."
Jacob stiffened immediately. "Pray, dear man? I trust blasphemy is far from a new sin aching to cast you into the fiery pits in which you were spawned." Though Jacob smiled, there was nothing of kindness in his face. "Edward Cullen, I present Isabella Swan, my fiancée."
"Enchanting." he smiled and I was sure the ensemble gathered around us could hear the pulse of my heart thundering against my corset. "And, enchanted."
"Enchanting." My hand extended to her and she gently pressed her gloved fingers over the inlay between my outstretched thumb and forefinger. "And, enchanted." With a regal bow, I braced my lips to the silk and inhaled indecently. Orchids. The rich scent assaulted me and I felt the low growl of lust rip into my chest.
Her curtsey was fluid. A proper Lady.
Her flush smile as coy as a fox escaping the hounds.
An encountering inhalation that marked my prey was overtaken by the brush.
Isabella was whirled away from my attentions as rapidly as I was drawn to hers. My mother, Esme thrived on playing hostess. And now, it was time to show-off the elegance of my home and family name. Alas, the treasure of Jacobs soon-to-be-bride was ripped from my hands like a holy sacrament.
"It seems the hunt is dashed, Edward. For shame." Emmett laughed, low enough for only me to hear the words hidden behind the action.
"Hardly." I took the pull of the wine I had brought for Isabella, feeling it warm my throat in one swallow. My eyes followed her, from doorstep to hall. "I have her scent, now."
Eyes like summer-fields were everywhere in which I turned. There was no escape from such vigilance. No refuge from such expressive desire.
"My dear, do not feel ashamed. You have barely had time to settle yourself and here you are, gracing us with your presence." Esme smiled softly, turning down the lights in the guest room.
"It is merely exhaustion, Miss Swan." Carlisle said gently. He had been kind enough to examine me when the faintness of these past two hours threatened to overtake me. "You would be wise to eat and rest properly, with all the added anxieties of settling a household. It is a hard labor given women to care for such extensive needs as we, men."
"Thank you, Dr. Cullen." Jacob said, appreciatively. "The health of my fiancée is of my utmost import."
"Such devotion will make a good husband, Jacob." Carlisle smiled softly, bowing his head to me in courtly fashion. "Now, let us excuse your lovely Isabella and allow her some time to replenish herself."
"Thank you again, Dr. Cullen." I said softly, my eyes holding Jacobs. I felt his words of love and concern in his gaze. Though he dreaded to leave me in such a strange place, he would remain but a call away should I require him.
Esme smiled as her husband and Jacob left, allowing herself to fuss once more over me, seemingly delighted in the act. "My dear your devotion to your household is a show of such quality. Please, allow me to make your excuses. I will leave word you are not to be disturbed until you see fit to rejoin us."
"My Lady, you are as gentle as you are graceful." I tried to smile, lowering my eyes for a long moment.
"And you are as courteous as your namesake, Isabella." With a turn of her shapely form, Esme drew to the double doors, parting the gilded façade and without another word, stepped through to leave me to regain my strength.
I stood in the dim ambiance for a long moment, the humid air threatening to ruin all of Angela Webbers hard work. That simply would not do. To right the situation, I went to the balcony doors, parting them to step out into the night air.
The moon glimmered midway through the sky, dripping its light like fresh cream on the world below. Bracing my hands on the balustrade, I bent as deep as the restriction of the corset would allow me. Draughts of air were like wine to me, calming my nerves and returning my former complexion from the more pallid fright of earlier.
Dr. Cullen was right, I had been formulating the household Jacob and I would share, as my most stringent priority. Once we were married, he would be off to his next post. I simply had to push the preparation. I had to prove to the both of us that such a task was not beyond me, that I might hold our home as he would, a fort.
"Yes, she's really a charming woman! But, I thought, I observed, by the bye, A something that's rather uncommon, In the flash of that very bright eye?It may be a mere fancy of mine, Though her voice has a very sharp tone, But I'm told that these charming women Are inclined to have wills of their own!" (the Charming Woman, Helen Selina)
I gasped, turning like a phantom in the moonlight, my bare hand bereft of its silk glove pressed against the hollow of my throat. "Mr. Cullen!"
"It is I, and no other." The crooked smile that fell over his velvet lips made me lean further against the railing of the balcony. "I have come to pay a courtesy. How do you feel, Miss Swan?"
My voice would not come. Edward Cullen, his hair in bronze disarray, chemise lost of its proper ties, exposing the lilt of his neck and the very edge of chest. He looked as a sinful apparition with eyes as hungry as a lion. "I feel," faint "much better. I am in great appreciation of your concern."
"My dear Miss Swan, you appear flushed." He said in a tone that made my knees all the weaker. "Surely you have a temperature. Would you allow me to judge much closer?"
"Flushed or rife with annoyance?" I released a heady breath, the scent of him excruciatingly powerful. He wanted to move closer. "Do not forget yourself. You are not a Doctor, Mr. Cullen." My corset felt suddenly too tight. I was losing my breath.
"I have learned a trick or two to aid the sick, from my father. Though I am sure you would much rather my attentions than his. Maybe even more than your fool of a fiancé?" The full tilt of his dark green eyes were bathed in slivers of moonlight, casting an odd saturation to their hue.
"How dare you!" I found my words hissing, my ribs shivering with ache as I expelled my breath in fury. I lowered my lashes softly, feigning my concerned disposition. "I am not as well as I gave pretense."
I was already moving toward the room, off of the line of the balcony. "I should lay down, gather my rest. Alone. Though, your concern is most gracious."
"A woman as lovely as you? You are not made for resting, Isabella. And certainly not to lay upon your back without proper attention." Edward moved toward me as I closed the distance to the side of the bed. Deciding better of it, I began to back myself toward the wall. Oh, the way his eyes held me…devoured me, undressed me. "Have you had proper attention?"
"Do not be so indecent! But a scream and my fiancé will rush forward and brandish your death." My heart was racing.
Edward stalked deeper into the darkness, a cool smile pressed over his lips. In a single breath he was before me. "I followed the scent of you here, sweet orchids desperate for the sunlight. I have come to warm you…."
"Mr. Cullen, keep your respect!" I bit the edge of my lip, trembling.
"My respects are well kept." His voice was a husky breath, the bass of it wanton with edge. "And so is our soon-to-be-secret"
Edward reached his cool hand to my skin, pressing in against me. My lips parted for a bated breath, a gentle moan escaping my lips as his fingertips brushed the hollow of my throat. "You've grown quiet, Isabella."
"You…are..indecent.." I managed and he was close enough that I could feel the heat of his breath against my lips.
"You have already said that." Those wicked green eyes appraised me.
The scent of him was rife with lust and moonlight. "I could..never give myself to such…a whore…"
"Watch your pretty little mouth, Isabella." He hissed and I shivered. Everything, then, happened so fast.
It took but a grip of his strong hand and I was turned around, my hands flat on the wall, my forehead braced to the same surface. A single sharp tug and my body jerked back against him, my dress parted, my corset unlaced.
"You are a fiend!" I shivered, my silken gown falling around my legs like a wave of pale blue water.
"You have bewitched me. There has never been a scent that called me, as yours." Edwards words were desperate. His lips pressed against my ear, baptizing me in his breathe.
My lips slid a silken trail along her exquisite neck, poisoning myself on the rich taste. I drank her in with the flat of my tongue, offering her a delectable threat as my teeth followed suit. I knew I had gone too far, I was every bit the fiend she proclaimed me. And twice the whore than she could imagine.
Sweet Lord, she was so pure.
I was bewitched. Obsessed.
I felt her trembling, the beautiful quake that rushed from her silken spine to nestle between her thighs. Yes, her flower betrays her. I could smell the earthen lust of her budding. "Fuck, woman. You are ending me."
Isabella moaned at my words. The siren-song filled me and my fingers traced her hips to the line of her hose. My lips pressed deeper into her neck, nipping at the delicate too-pale flesh. "Give me your consent, Isabella."
Her moan triumphed me as my teeth pressed their lustful heat against the wealth of her skin. "Show yourself to me. So help me, I will mark you if you do not answer me."
Stop this, Edward. You are going too far…for propriety sake! You are not an animal.
She made me this way. She wanted me this way. The scent of Isabella's virtue spoke the words her lips could not permit.
"Face me!" My primacy was a feral growl, tongue lapping in a long slow motion from the side of her neck at the shoulders join. I was be-sot with her.
"I can not!" she cried out in a tortured moan, her nails like claws against the painted wall. Her body arched against me and it was the edge of what I could bear.
Strong hands turned me, taking me from the safety of the wall. Edward covered over me, stepping in to pressure my back to the cool surface I had nestled into for protection. I waged war with myself, tending the ramparts against my sudden desire, desperate to keep it at bay.
I could feel the stir of his need, heavy and flush against the curve of my thigh. He thrust to emphasize it, a dark chuckle leaving his lips as I gasped at the realization. "You have awakened the beast within me, Isabella."
"I..I did not mean for such…" my words were a disaster of desire. They had the ring of truth but I could no longer deny what lurked beneath. From the moment I tasted his voice brace across the distance of our bodies, I coveted. I desired.
"Your innocence is abating." Edward mocked, grabbing my petite wrist. He lowered his face to mine, the tip of his nose tilted to brush against the side of my own. With a slow hiss of breath, he pressed my hand against his breeches, my palm flush to his bound, heavy desire. "Do not fear this, Isabella. Not when there is so much pleasure I can give you."
My fingers were as rigid as his barely concealed indecency. "I..do not invite this!" Yes, I did. Sweet Lord, I craved him.
Edwards lips brushed the side of my mouth, tilting his head like a surveying serpent. In the dim light I could see the wealth of his pink tongue slithering past his plush lips and the heat of it lapped tormentingly against the curve of my mouth. I curled my fingers around his swelling, unable to resist. He throbbed against the connection, twitching gloriously in my grip
"You are the Devil, Edward Cullen." I cried out, breathless, palming the lust I craved through too-tight material.
"And your need is the Mistress I answer to." He sucked back a breath, unlacing his breeches with his free hand. Before I could stop myself, I tore the material away and gripped him, skin to skin. By all that was holy, he was thick and ready in my grip! I felt my virtue melt into the heat of his green-eyed stare.
"Fuck, you shred my soul with a grip so tight." Edward moaned and I whimpered my response, passing my thumb against his sticky crown. He pressed me back against the wall, his hands trailing up from my hips, over the pass of my torso and beneath the swell of my breasts.
I stroked his rigid flesh harder, gathering his milk between my fingers. I felt weak, faint, burning alive. And when I thought I would perish from the rapid beating of my heart, I felt his fingers pass over my dusky buds, peaked with lust. "Sweet Heavens!"
"Your breasts are made for my attentions!" He leaned his head down, taking a stalwart sentry into his mouth and I bucked my hips against him. Edward responded with a hot thrust that pinned me to the wall, my fingers releasing his aching cock.
The hot slurp of his mouth overtook me and I mewled, desperate to press my tormented nipple deeper against his teeth. His hand pinched the one his mouth could not lavish and I felt my world spin. "I will die of such feeling!"
"Then I shall mourn you now." Edward pinched deep of both taut buds, dragging me from the wall. His panting breaths made my will weak. I craved, I ached…
With a sharp hiss he turned my back to him, ushering me before the full gilded mirror and vanity. "They will come for you soon, Isabella But not before you cum for me." Edwards voice was urgent as it was lustful. "Place your hands, flat before you."
I hung my head, doing as he bayed me. I had no strength left to fight. I was rewarded with the force of his hands gripping tight to my hips.
"Look at me. In the mirror." Edward was harsh with lust. And I was not nearly as shamed as I should have been. With a flare of defiance that fed to my heat, I threw my head back. Green-eyes captured me. The look that etched into his gaze was pure, brutal, lust.
"Ask me for it." His words were slow, precise, heavy. Lips parted for deep growling breaths, I was already unmade. "Isabella!"
I jolted at his throaty bark of my name, panting as I held us in the mirror, disheveled and aching. The scent of him overpowered me, the heat of his voice burned me alive. "Take what you will but do not leave me hurting without it…"
"Take what I will." Edward purred darkly, one hand releasing from my hip. In a vicious rip, the pantalets that clung to me shredded from my skin. "I will break you and make you mine."
I whimpered as he bent me deeper into the vanity, my eyes unable to shatter the spell he held over me, in the mirror. "Edward…please…"
"She begs!" the guttural voice mocked me. "My beautiful bitch, you will send me to hell for this." Edwards legs spread mine wider, one hand slithering up and down the line of my back. "Do not think to look away…."
I felt him behind me, the dark heat of his body scorching me in abysmal flames. The sticky crown of his cock brushed between the silk of my petals, staining their sweet innocent bloom.
I arched, my nails pressing into the thin wood of the vanity. I cared not for the pain I would feel. None of it mattered, I was starving.
Edward growled, low and deep, reclaiming my hip with his grip. The heavy head of his lust lingered at my body's entrance. "Guide me into you, Isabella."
I shuddered, pressing my hand between my naked thighs, the edges of my wrist stained in my own heat in the passing. I could feel Edward there, at the core of my body.
I brushed his heavy cock with the flat of my fingers. Without breaking our eyes in the looking-glass, I felt him open me.
"Edward!" My lips choked on his name, panting forceful breaths as the tip of his cock slid into me. Oh, sweet flames of hell, take me! I was trembling, starving, He moved inside of me, agonizingly slow.
My portal stretched to take him, wet and glorious. "Please…"
"Patience…" He cautioned, tracing his hand from my hip to my side. I felt Edwards tantalizing tease, traipsing between my heavy breasts to press flush against my heart. "You are..tight…and I will hurt you."
"Then hurt me…steel the breaking and show me the promises of pleasure…" Sweet Lord! Edward pushed deeper, making my walls yield to him. There was nothing but the feel of him inside of me. Inside of me…
"Isabella, steady." He moaned thickly, the pressure of my spreading walls hot around him. Edwards eyes, dark with lust, shone with something beneath their wanton surface. He fought to breath, the hand that gripped my hip tightening. I wanted him to bruise me.
"Tormentor!" I cried out, biting my lip as I held his eyes. With desperation, I pressed back. I heard him growl as I took him deeper.
Without another word, his hand left the frantic rhythm of my heart and steeled his grip onto my hip. With a heavy breath, Edward thrust, deep and hard into my body.
The pain was metallic and primal, the hot rip tearing through my body as I fought the need to scream. He was murdering me!
"Look at me!" He shuddered through the growl and my eyes were back to his, narrowed and rife with tears. I felt my body quake, The rim of my eyes overtaken with the flood of his agony. "Your body is..mine, Isabella. Your maiden-blood will gift to no other!"
"It hurts!" I sobbed, gripping the vanity.
"I know." Edward whispered, dragging my hips back to meet him. I nearly lost myself as the agony ripped through me a second time. He pushed, deeper now, releasing a heavy breath as I gripped him from inside.
And then the feel of him was gone, leaving me panting.
I was empty without him.
The tears rolled down my eyes. Please, let there be more than this…
Edward turned me from the mirror, to face him, gripping my arms as he moved me back toward the bed. I pressed my face into his neck, wetting him with my lamentation, shamed and aching. What have I done?
I fell back on the bed with a soft mewl of pain and he covered me over, forcing my legs to spread to accommodate him. Edward spoke no words as I sobbed beneath him, feeling his hands lift my legs at the bend of the knee. I braced my shivering thighs to his sides, turning my face away when I felt his crown once more against my entrance.
"No more…" my voice was weak, wet with my tears.
"Isabella…." Edward spoke my name like a prayer, such softness that I was compelled. I could not keep my eyes from his.
He dripped his lips against mine, velvet and silk colliding in a feather-soft stroke. The salt of my lament met his tongue as he slithered his warm muscle along my own, entwining them with the most intensely careful motion.
Edward swallowed my scream as he thrust deep into me, burying his cock hard and fast. My nails pressed into his skin as I desperately tried to move my mouth away. He met me for each effort, with an achingly hard thrust that threatened to split my insides, his mouth taking my every torment.
Again and again, he battered me as I tried abysmally to shy away from him. The bed moved with his force and his lips ripped themselves away.
Something changed. The pain slithered into the recesses, awakening my body with a white-hot spark. I felt Edward move inside of me, slow and earnest.
"Feel me, Isabella. Yes. Give your body over…" Edward gasped his breath and I realized, I was moving against him, pressing back to return everything he gave. My spine elongated, my thighs arcing until they were beneath his shoulders.
Edward drew onto his arms, his hips free to move. "My beautiful Isabella…"
My body stretched to receive him, the hot pressure making me tremble. I slid my fingers through his bronze mane, dampened with sweat. In response, he thrust harder and I mewled beneath him.
"Edward!" I cried out, tugging at the very roots of his mane.
"Fuck! So tight!" he hissed his breaths, biting back the depth of his moans as he pistoned inside of me, opening me, ripping my innocence like flower petals beneath a maidens-fevered dreaming.
I cried out as the long strokes of his cock became sharp, shallow bursts of pure power. The drag of his crown back and forth wore into my very core, striking some-thing inside of me that made me shrill with lust. Everything was on fire, my entire body struck and recoiling like a steel chord.
"Fuck yes! There is..the spot…do you feel that, my Bella…fuck,..how you squeeze me!" Edward pressed into me with frenzy, overtaking even my moans as that fast drag of his cock along my walls struck without mercy. The quivering pressure made me breathless.
My blood became fire beneath my skin and I gripped him with sudden fury. "Edward! Something…something is.."
His breath was sharp as he thrust harder, choking my insides with every thick inch. I couldn't breath…every nerve ending inside of me coiled like strips of metal…I was going to die…heavens help me…please….
"I cant..hold off…fuck, Bella…cum with me. Cum. With. Me." The feral growl of his voice pitched and he sent himself inside of me with crushing force. The hot pressure broke free and I screamed, the sound swallowed by his mouth.
I trembled. Quivered. Convulsed in a fit beneath him, until every last drop of my desire was wrung from my core in dizzying waves. I lost all relation to the world. There was no sound, no light, no vision…there was only a decadent heat that filled me, splashing against the walls Edward stretched open and made his.
Nothing could have prepared me for her.
There, in that room, I came to take her like a conquest.
The scent of this woman had mocked me from the moment I was near to her at our introduction. The heat of her eyes burned me till I was blistered and tender between each coy lowering of her lashes. Those infuriating, stolen glances antagonized me.
I stalked Isabella across the downstairs rooms, but she was always taken from me before I could grasp her.
There was no denying the truth. I was going to make her innocence suffer. I was going to destroy her.
Why? Because I could not slake myself of her. She was like a thirst I could not quench and I became obsessive in my need to try. I stole away, with one girl and then the next. But I could not have them. Not that either of them had been unwilling. My flesh craved something else….and I could not thwart it.
What madness it had been for me. To acquire such sharp longing so quickly. I had no intention of allowing it to go unpunished. I wanted to ruin Isabella Swan.
That had been the intent.
That had not been the outcome.
Joined with her, a tangle of arms and legs, I felt the hot turn of my seed cool inside of her. Like an offering to distant gods. I could not, then, find the strength to leave her body. And for long moments we remained as we were, lost in exhaustion, neither able to break away.
This temptress, with her tears of agony turned pleasure nearly broke me. The callous darkness I wore like a shroud lifted itself. And for its parting, it left me but one thing. There was only, Isabella.
Like the first taste of absinthe, I could not refrain. I loved her again that night, almost immediately after the first. This time, I loved her, slowly.
Then, I took her again, hard.
I opened her body with my fingers and my mouth and still the beauty did not evade me.
The night came to its short end, undisturbed, though I was not surprised. I later came to find my mother, Esme and my father, Carlisle, had insisted Isabella find her rest, uninterrupted until she roused naturally.
The miracle, of course, had been the refreshed and well ravished beauty that stepped out of the guest room the next morning.
It had been a most perfect recovery.
"Edward, will you come to bed?"
Brushing my hand through my hair, I changed a note left lingering on the sheet of music I penned, a soft smile falling over my lips as my Bella called to me.
She is not yours, Edward. Not yet.
There was still the matter of Jacob Black, her fiancé, to contend with.
The wedding date had been altered due to her constant exhaustion. My father, Carlisle, tended her regularly, perplexed at her eternal state of weakness. I kept my Bella sated and drenched in my love and lust. It was little wonder she had the energy to rouse from the bed with the way I savored her.
It was no great surprise to either of us, how my father could not find the cause of her malaise. Whoever would suspect?
I loved her.
But always in the shadows. Each night I came to claim her, each morning I was forced from her side. Fast were the days approaching when we could no longer hide our love, this way.
Blessedly, Jacob left for his new post two-months ago, with promises to send for her when she was well. That determination of her departure was left to Carlisle, of course.
Our secret was still safe.