Story Title: The Hummer
Author: mabarberella (formerly lovedwardtwlt)
Pairing: Bella & Carlisle
Vamp or Human: Vamp
Disclaimer: None of it's mine, or I wouldn't have a student loan anymore.
Okay, so, thank you for reading this. It is silly and fun and started out as a little twinkle in my mind's eye as I was reading 2.0's The Acclimation Diaries and lost my shit when her Carlisle admitted to losing his shit. !! I also owe the inspiration for "the hummer" (don't worry, it will all make sense soon…) to the "growly good times" in her story. Go read it. Seriously, now. Then come back & read this. Or not. That's how good it is.
And most importantly, I want to say thank you to my dear, dear beta who spends all her time talking me down off the ledge (so much so that she's too busy to create a FF account!), improving on my smutty good times, and ensuring that my stories have some semblance of a plot while she's at work & supposed to be working. We'll just call her crazyass for now…or maybe KnittyKitty, since she's not got a penname yet, and she said she wasn't going to pick Pork Blossom because someday we are going to open a Chinese Restaurant/Yarn Shop and call it that. I named this The Hummer because she explicitly told me not to.
My skin sizzled from the feel of his lips on my neck. I tried to suppress a groan and half failed. I felt his breath against me, cool and prickly, making me shiver. I ran my hands up his shoulders to his hair and titled my head back, reveling in the attention his tongue seemed to want to pay the sensitive spot under my ear. I was so ridiculously turned on I felt like I was going to combust.
"Mmmm, Edward," I said, wanting him to know how he was making me feel. I squirmed with the need for more, but I knew it wouldn't happen. I tried to resign myself to being satisfied with his limits, but it was so hard when I felt like I was aching for him.
He pulled back to look at me, his gaze full of love and burning with need. It thrilled me to see him like this, to know that he was feeling at least some of what I was. I ran my fingertips across his lips, then reached up, brought him back down to me, and surprised him by kissing his neck. He gasped and held his breath as I made my way up to his ear, where I softly whispered, "Turnabout is fair play," right before I brought his earlobe between my lips, sucking.
His breath escaped him suddenly with a choking noise, and I pulled the lobe between my teeth, scraping his flesh as I pulled back. He groaned. Loudly. I was amazed, as he had never let his guard down long enough for me to hear how I affected him before. His lips sought mine out again and I was suddenly burning up, the way you feel when a gorgeous peson is staring at you and you want to look, take in their beauty, but are embarrassed to do so.
Frustrated and breathless, I kissed him harder. I felt his breath hitch and for just a moment, fleeting as it was, he kissed me back with more passion than he'd ever shown. In that moment I hitched my leg around his hip and pulled myself up into him. He was unyielding as he hovered above me, but I pulled myself up far enough to feel him hard against me, against that very part of me that desired him most. I gasped in surprise, as I'd never felt this part of him before, and it lit a fire within me. His reaction mirrored my own: the quick, surprised, shaky intake of breath escaped him just as his eyes flew open.
I was desperate to feel it – feel him again. But the moment ended as suddenly as it began, with Edward pulling away from me. "No, please," I whimpered. This had become standard operating procedure for us: kissing until I crossed some line, and then him pulling away, leaving me frustrated as all hell. I grasped him, trying to bring him back down to me, but he sat up.
"Bella," he said, sounding as exasperated as I felt, but for different reasons, I'm sure.
"UGH! Dammit, Edward. I know, I know," I said, wanting to respect his limits, knowing they were solely in place for my safety, but hating them nonetheless. "Dammit," I said quietly, so frustrated I wanted to scream the word and wave my arms and stomp like a two year old having a tantrum.
"I'm sorry, I…" he started, the guilt of being the enforcer weighing heavily in his eyes.
"No, I know, it's okay," I said, trying to relieve the guilt and my frustration at the same time. "I…I better go, Edward. It's getting late, and Charlie gets off work in half an hour," I said, saying it before he did. I knew that would be the next thing out of his mouth. I was trying to distract myself, calm my still-frantic heart, and assuage the ache in my lower half.
"You're right," he said, his breathing still faster than normal, his shoulders slumping slightly. "I'll take you home."
"Okay. I'm just going to step into the bathroom before we go," I said, hoping he'd find an excuse to distance himself from me while I was in the bathroom, as I hated the thought of him being able to hear me using the bathroom.
"Yes, well…I'll go get those boxes from the garage so you can take them home to pack," he said, bringing my hand up to his lips for a sweet kiss, as he stood up, pulling me off the bed with him.
"Okay," I whispered, as I reached up on tippy toes to kiss his satin-smooth lips.
I stepped into the hallway ahead of him and stopped at the bathroom as he made his way down the stairs. I stepped inside, turned on the light, and closed the door. Looking at myself in the mirror, I huffed and rolled my shoulders back, trying to pull myself together. I was wound tighter than a spring, ready to pop at any moment. I closed my eyes for a second, trying to relax, and then opened them again to look at myself, flushed and exasperated. I leaned forward to really check out my eyes, as they looked tired, in the process, pressing my pubic bone against the counter.
"Ugh, Jesus," I said as the sweet pressure made me shiver. I turned around, and leaned my butt on the counter, and tentatively reached down and pressed against myself through my jeans. Sweet hot tingles spread from the pressure of my fingertips, and I pressed again, harder. I moved my hand in a circle, putting pressure on the seam of the jeans, moving it from one side of my sex to the other, reveling in the wonderful feeling. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back, letting a whimper escape my lips. I moved my hand again and again, my skin breaking out in goose bumps and my breath catching.
I felt strange doing this in his house. I knew no one else was home, but I still had the feeling that someone could hear me; someone could smell how I was making myself feel. I knew they had those abilities, even if Edward had never come right out and said it. I wasn't unobservant, and I'd derived hints from discussions on other topics. But Edward was loading the car up outside, and wouldn't be able to sense what was going on. It didn't dissuade me from feeling as if I was being monitored in some way.
Thoughts of Edward hovering on the other side of the door sensing my actions flooded my brain and amplified the heat radiating from my lower half, even though I knew he wasn't even in the house. I reached up with my other hand and lightly stroked that responsive spot under my ear where Edward had kissed me with the very tips of my fingers. My breath was coming quickly now, my body starting to tingle. I wanted relief; I wanted this pressure, this feeling.
I wanted it from Edward. I sighed, pulling my hands away from my body, turning back to the counter. Balling them into fists, I brought them down on the countertop in frustration, yelling a flustered "UGH!" The sting from the impact brought me back to where I was: Edward's house. And he was waiting for me outside. With one last flustered sigh, I turned to the door, yanked it open, and quickly stepped back out in to the hallway. A strange feeling – like a breeze – brushed over my skin and made me shiver, but then was gone. I shook it off, and started toward the stairs. As I reached the bottom and turned toward the garage, my eyes widened as I noticed Dr. Cullen walking toward me down the hallway from the garage with a curious…and dare I say, sexy smile on his face.
I was horrified, hoping he'd just gotten home and hadn't been able to hear me in the bathroom. What would he think I was doing in there if he had? Would it be obvious from the sounds I was making? In a second I was rehashing every noise I'd made and tried to come up with reasons – besides the truth – why I'd been making them.
"Ah, Bella," he said with that benevolent smile of his. His eyes always seemed to glow with kindness and his smile put me at ease. "On your way home to pack, I hear?" I desperately hoped that's all he'd heard.
"Yes, and to spend some time with Charlie before the wedding," I said, trying to calm my frantic heartbeats with just my thoughts.
"Well, Charlie's a lucky man to have such a thoughtful daughter," he said, his smile reappearing, placing a hand on my shoulder, humming and nodding.
I had the strangest feeling I couldn't place. It was like my body was trying to convince me that his hum was on the same frequency of the hum of electricity coursing through the nerve endings in my lower region. The moment of his humming and my internal thrumming seemed to last too long, and I tried to force myself to shake off the feeling, but I didn't want to. I finally blinked and shook my head, then smiled up at him stupidly, feeling suddenly goofy and giddy. I had always found Carlisle attractive, but I was suddenly feeling like a giggly preteen in front of this sophisticated, cultured man. Who happened to be my boyfriend's father. My boyfriend's really, really hot father. I tried to tear my eyes away from his and erase the feeling that zinged through me as I relished in his gorgeous, strong face with his kind eyes and luscious lips. I shook my head, feeling a little wonky.
He pulled his hand back and chuckled through his words as he said, "well, I hope we'll see you again soon."
"Yes, yes of course, tomorrow," I said, not sure why I felt the need to reassure him he'd see me again so very soon.
"Tomorrow then, " he said, and for just a flash of a moment I thought I saw a very serious look on his face before his usual smile and calm demeanor came back. But I must've been mistaken, as he patted me once more on the shoulder and brushed by me toward the kitchen.
What was wrong with me? Why did I suddenly feel like I was being dazzled? But, dazzled in such a way that was unintentional on his part? And this was Carlisle, Edward's father for all intents and purposes. What was wrong with me?
I took two tentative steps, confused and in a haze, and then my wits seemed to come back to me, however, the rest of my body stayed tuned to that inaudible strung-out hum. I made my way to the garage and out to the Volvo as Edward was shuffling in the last of the boxes.
The whole ride home I was on edge. I felt like my nerves were overwhelmed and distraught, and the ache had only increased since his lips last left mine. I stumbled through my evening with Charlie still feeling that way, and tossed and turned all night, finding neither sleep nor release in my rumpled bed.
The next day Alice picked me up and we spent the day together shopping in Port Angeles and watching a movie together at their house. Edward and his brothers had left the night before for a two-day hunting trip, and although I missed him terribly, I cherished the time I spent with Alice. I wandered up to Edward's room in the afternoon in seek of a quiet place for a nap after having not slept well the night before. I fell face first onto his bed, groaning as I breathed in his smell still lingering on the sheets after our tousle last evening. I quickly fell into a deep sleep with wild dreams that left me waking suddenly, squirming against the sheets, a light sheen of sweat dampening my clothes and a slow throb between my legs.
Disoriented and disheveled, I squirmed again, rubbing my aching apex against the mattress trying to find some relief. Drunk with sleep, my mind slowly processed where I was. The room had darkened and the thick blackness of night had crept in around me and I felt uneasy, like eyes were lurking in the shadows and I couldn't focus enough in the dark to see them. I heard a click and reached over, flipping on the bedside lamp, looking around for the source of the noise as my eyes adjusted to the light.
Seeing nothing, I sighed and figured I was losing my mind due to lack of sexual release. I rolled over to face the night table and saw a note in Alice's scrawl: "Esme and I went out for a quick hunt. Be back by morning. Guilt is a useless emotion, so don't dwell on it. Enjoy yourself!"
Confused and still half-asleep, I stared at the note, blinking. What did I need to feel guilty about? I racked my sleep-addled brain trying to think of what I might've done that I would incur a guilty conscience. Coming up with nothing, and knowing Alice's cryptic methods for attempting to not dabble in others' futures but not always being able to reign herself in, I decided that I was probably on my way to doing something I would feel guilty for, and she was telling me to go for it and "enjoy myself."
I did really want to enjoy myself right about now, but that was impossible with Edward gone. Or, maybe it wasn't. I was alone and worked up and needed relief, and Alice had given me the go-ahead. And, although it freaked me out a little that Alice saw so much more of my private moments than I ever thought I could tolerate, it was also reassuring that she could see far enough ahead to know when to nudge me in the right direction and when to stay out of it.
Too tired to pursue any further thoughts of Alice and her dabbling, I rolled back onto my stomach, groaning at the ever-increasing throb keeping me from relaxing. I closed my eyes, trying to recapture the feeling of the dream that had driven me to such excitement. An image flashed before my eyes of a deep red leather chair and sounds of lovemaking. Then another flash of two bodies writhing together in the chair. I hummed into the pillow, remembering the feeling of the dream. The passion, the feel of cold, smooth hands pressing into my ass, pulling me forward and up and then guiding me back down; the feel of my hands gripping those strong, smooth, muscular shoulders; the shiver that rippled through me as my hardened nipples slid against his beautiful, hard chest; the amazing sensation of the cold, hard penetration between my legs as I moved above him.
I slipped my hand down between my throbbing center and the mattress and pressed against it through my soaked panties, whimpering as the scene continued to play in my head. I moved my hand and my pelvis together in a frustrated rhythm, keeping maximum contact without letting go. I wanted to see this dream through to its end for my body's release.
Snippets of the scene continued to play out as they came back to me. Behind my eyelids I saw myself throw my head back in pleasure, my hands moving to grip the leather of the high back of the chair as I ground out my rhythm above him.
My body started to hum, a strange yet strangely familiar feeling. The hum electrified the steady burn centered above my hand as I continued to ride my fingers, causing intense pleasure. I wanted this to last forever, the feeling so gripping.
"MMMM, god, I need…ugh, I want this….oh, oh!" I said, feeling my pending release close in on me. I increased the movements of my hand, as I imagined the intervals of slapping skin shortening until our pace was frenzied. I reached down and pressed two of the fingers of my other hand against my opening, moving them around in the slickness, teasing the flesh.
I squeezed my closed eyes tighter, trying to remember more of the dream, desperate for an image to go with this feeling. I sensed his hands around me, pressing into my flesh, able to break me, but holding me like a woman, not a precious, glass bobble. The thought of being desired, pleasured, and experienced in this way stirred feelings of self confidence, beauty, and power. And wound me tighter as I approached the brink of release.
Panting and searching for another memory, I found one: I had forced my eyes open through the pleasure of my impending orgasm and looked down to see his eyes as he came, knowing it would be soon. The eyes looking up at me were full of passion, need, and lust, and in that moment – the moment when I realized it wasn't Edward – he leaned forward, never slowing his movements, and scraped his teeth along my neck, sending me spiraling out of control in orgasm, screaming his name.
"OH, god, Carlisle! Ugh, ahhhhhhh!" I screamed as I came so hard my head hurt with the force of the blinding white lights behind my eyes. I ripped my hands away from my sensitive flesh but continued to move and groan and shake as waves upon waves of pleasure continued to course through me with that same strange hum.
Finally, the waves of sound and pleasure stopped. I was sweating, shaking, and confused, but my senses were too clouded with the most intense pleasure I'd ever felt to dwell on anything else. I was literally high with gratification. I was sated. My breathing started to slow, and I rolled over, pressing my palm to my forehead in confusion. Why had the most intense sexual experience of my life just occurred at my own hand to thoughts of Edward's father? What possessed me to dream about him and then continue that dream to such an explosive conclusion?
We can't control our dreams, but we can control our revisiting of them. I suddenly felt a wave of guilt wash over me. Then I remembered Alice's note, which added embarrassment to the mix, but I finally pushed both those feelings out of my head. I wanted to know why I'd gone down this strange path, and why it had felt so amazing. I'd touched myself before – to an erotic dream or daydream – but had never had such an intense experience, or even more than one orgasm, for that matter.
"Carlisle?" I asked myself. Why Carlislie? Carlisle with the kind eyes. Carlisle the leader, the calm, in-control patriarch. Carlisle with the gorgeous blond hair and the all-knowing smile. Suddenly the depth of that smile seemed to edge toward the erotic. Maybe the kind smile hid more than just kindness. He was a man, after all. He had a wife, whom I'm sure he touched and made love to. But that dream was not about making love. That dream was raw and unrestrained and passionate.
I closed my eyes and thought of him, and that purring sound came back to me. Even just thinking about it sent jolts through me and my body started to hum again. Thoughts of his hands, his beautiful face looking up at me with such desire, his unrestrained thrusts, and his teeth…oh, god. I'd never thought what it would be like to be bitten like that. I'd imagined well enough the scenario of Edward biting me to change me, which became an erotic daydream on its own, but I'd never imagined the feel of teeth with no other consequence, and certainly never imagined that it would send me into an orgasmic tailspin.
I'd never imagined that with Edward because I knew if he bit me it would not be a grazing of teeth, it would be an eternal bite that drew blood and infused venom. But Carlisle…he had hundreds of years of control under his belt. He'd never bitten anyone except to change them, and was the master of restraint when it came to blood. Carlisle could bite me passionately and not kill or change me.
My breathing increased. He could also control his physical reactions because he wouldn't have to worry about his bloodlust, as I wasn't his singer. And he was experienced…sexually. It wouldn't be new and overwhelming for him. And he'd spent countless years touching and healing people, so he knew just how hard he could touch me without hurting me. He could touch me without worrying; he could turn himself over to his lust while focusing on mine as well.
I tried to banish these thoughts, erase them from my brain, and focus on Edward. But thoughts of Edward brought frustration at this point. I couldn't even kiss him properly as he was afraid to cut me with his teeth. I closed my eyes and the visual of Carlisle scraping his teeth along my neck forced its way into my brain again.
I shook my head, trying to clear it, but then the images shifted and Carlisle was in front of me, as he had been in the hallway yesterday, his hand on my shoulder, grinning and humming. But his eyes turned from kind and fatherly to desire and passion and he pushed me back into the wall hands on either side of my head as he leaned in and pressed himself into me, breathing my breath, eyes fixed on mine. Then lowering his lips to mine and kissing my breath away, begging entrance to my mouth with his tongue, and groaning and growing hard against my stomach when I complied and massaged his with mine.
I felt my heartbeat increase and a new wave of arousal between my legs. I traced my lips with my fingertips, trying to create in reality the passion my lips were feeling in my mind. "Mmm, Bella. Bella," I imagined him moaning my name as he pulled away just for a moment, allowing me to breathe before diving back in and massaging my lips with his and my tongue with his tongue. I imagined him reaching down with one hand, cupping my breast, knowing just how to touch to make me moan. And he would know because he was not new to the physical embodiment of passion.
I imagined Carlisle, with his knowing smile, looking through me as he positioned his thigh between mine and pressed into me, sending sparks from my center throughout my lower body, watching my reaction with the knowledge of what he was doing to me. Carlisle saying, "Oh, Bella, you are such a good girl, aren't you?" and raising his eyebrows just slightly at the warmth emanating from my center that he would be able to feel through his jeans just before lowering his head to kiss and nip at my neck. I moaned, and rubbed my legs together, imagining him making my body hum – an almost tangible hum – while kissing me everywhere.
And then my eyes snapped open: I really could hear it. That hum. But it wasn't a hum; the sound danced in the space between a hum and a growl. It sounded like…a purr. A really deep, dark, low purr. It hadn't just been in my dream, and it wasn't coming from me! My eyes widened in confusion and panic. I thought I was here alone, and now fear crept into my brain as I realized I wasn't alone. I felt the adrenaline start to pump in my veins and swung my legs over the side of the bed, searching out a form in the shadows of the room the lamp did not reach. Seeing nothing, I crept toward the door, convinced that it must just be my imagination, or some other noise that resembled what I thought sounded like a purr. Maybe it was mechanical. Maybe it was…I had no idea what it could be. I swung the door open quickly and stepped into the hallway with an itchy feeling on the back of my neck that someone had just been standing there.
"Edward?" I said, starting the walk down the hallway. "Alice? Esme?" Upon not hearing an answer, I started down the stairs to the second floor. The doors to Alice and Jasper's room and Rosalie and Emmet's room were open, and unoccupied. I walked down the hall toward the other side of the stairwell, seeing only one door closed: Carlisle's study. I stopped before it, hesitating, shivering. I should've been cold standing there in a t-shirt and my soaked panties, but I was overheated, and temperature was not the reason for my shivers.
I knew I was here alone, and not sure why I even felt the need to search the house. It didn't feel right to me to go into Carlisle's study, especially with the door closed. I started to reach for the doorknob, then dropped my hand. This was his private room and I had no business entering uninvited.
And, what if, to my utter mortification, I opened the door and I found him there? What would I even say? He would know what I'd done; know that I'd done it in his house. He'd be able to smell me. He'd have heard me crying out his name. Carlisle, with his calm, even demeanor would probably look at me with those knowing eyes, try to keep my embarrassment to a minimum, and clear his throat while giving me that look that says, "Um, your pants are missing, Bella. Do you need help finding them?"
A shiver ran down my spine thinking of Carlisle seeing me pantless, smelling me, knowing what I'd done and hearing what I'd said. The thrill came from the idea that maybe, deep down within Carlisle, there might be a man that might give in, even if only for a moment; give in to passion and cut loose. I doubted it, seriously, but it was thrilling to think about Carlisle groaning a well-placed curse word in the heat of the moment with Esme, or letting his mind wander and have his body physically react so that he had to walk around holding a chart in front of the zipper on his pants from time to time at work.
I was sure he was never confronted with such a loss of his always-perfect composure, but my mind – having become filthier since arriving in this house yesterday – reveled in it for one small minute. The scene from my dream flashed before my eyes again – the lust and abandon I saw in his eyes, his face – was something I wanted to see. I wanted to see Carlisle Cullen lose his shit. The thought shot a shockwave of desire through me, and brought an image to the forefront of my mind: the look that flashed in his eyes yesterday afternoon in the hallway as I was leaving. It was so short-lived I would probably not have noticed, if it hadn't been such a contrast to Carlisle's normal expression. He had seemed frustrated, flustered…tortured.
My mind was blowing it out of proportion, to be sure. I finally convinced myself how foolish I was acting, and turned to make my way back upstairs to shower, get rid of the hot mess that my panties had become, and get my lower half back in some pants.
Just as I started to step forward, I heard the faintest sigh – almost a groan – from the other side of the door. I stopped dead in my tracks, wheeled around, grabbed the doorknob and twisted.
The door swung open just as a figure stepped back into the room away from it. My eyes widened in shock, my mouth hung ajar. Standing in front of me was Carlisle, dressed in his work attire: gray slacks, blood red shirt open at the collar, white coat stretched across his broad shoulders, stethoscope hanging around his neck. His hands were clenched in fists at his side; he was trembling.
And his eyes were wild and pitch black. And trained on me.
He was not breathing and I saw him squeeze a swallow down, his Adam's apple bobbing. This is how Edward looked when he was fighting his bloodlust. I hadn't seen this look for awhile, but I remember it clearly. I took a step back, not out of fear for myself, but out of habit, wanting to put distance between the temptation of my blood and the vampire in the room.
His eyes never moved from mine as I stepped backward. We stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity, and my brain couldn't help but replay the scenes from just a few minutes ago, now that he was here, in the flesh, in front of me. I knew my breathing started to accelerate and I felt myself shiver with arousal at the thoughts I couldn't stop. I suddenly became very aware that I was standing there in a t-shirt, no bra, and panties that needed replacing, and actively trying to beat down the dirty thoughts about the man in front of me.
His eyes widened, and then he suddenly closed them, parted his lips just slightly, and took a deep breath in through his nose and mouth, his nostrils flaring. His eyelids fluttered and as they did so I could see his eyes rolling back. He exhaled with a hitch and shaky breath, clasped and unclasped his hands, and finally opened his eyes.
I couldn't look away from them, they were crazed with need. He took one step toward me, reaching out his hand; I took one step back, suddenly afraid for the first time in my life at the Cullen house. His brow furrowed as he realized what he'd done and stepped back to where he had been and dropped his hand.
The silence was too much for me; the atmosphere too thick. I broke the silence finally: "I'm so sorry, I didn't realize…" I said as I shook my head, "Dr. Cullen, are –" I swallowed loudly, "are you okay?" He didn't move, didn't speak, just breathed heavily again and swallowed noticeably.
"Are you…are you thirsty?" I asked, concerned that I needed to remove myself from the situation quickly, even though I was pretty sure that Carlisle had never been tempted with my blood, I was familiar with the crazed black eyes and what they meant. "Should I leave? Am I in danger?" I knew that if, in fact, his vampiric nature had taken over, I was toast. But I also knew that Carlisle had amazing restraint and even if he was fighting his blood lust at the moment, he could at least signal me to remove myself from the premises before he lost control.
He swallowed again, this time in an attempt to calm himself. He closed his eyes, shook his hands out, and slowly opened his eyes to meet mine, a hint of control coming back into his expression, but he remained silent. "Dr. Cullen, am I in danger?" I repeated, calmly, thinking he was at least in control enough now to give me some indication of what to do. I was afraid if I ran, I would offend him or worse yet, if his vampire side had really taken control, it would set of his predator reflexes, which would be to chase down prey. And end in my demise.
He slowly shook his head no, keeping his eyes locked on mine. I relaxed just the slightest bit, breathing a sigh of relief. Still shaking with adrenaline and tense from my earlier daydreams, I needed more reassurance from him before I felt completely safe.
"Do you want me to leave?" I asked, not sure of what I should do next. I didn't want to tempt him any longer if he was hungry. Instead of giving me an indication of his answer, he just stared at me, conflict creeping into his expression with a slight furrow of his brow.
I knew this look well: the wild black eyes of bloodlust and the furrowed brow reflecting the internal battle. I tittered nervously, remembering something I'd thought to myself earlier in my relationship with Edward. Bella: to eat her, or not to eat her. That is the question.
My nervous giggle caused the slight raise of an eyebrow. Curiosity creeping into this silent conversation might indicate we were on the path to me not being the meal. Curiosity was starting to nag at me, as well; if I wasn't in danger and he wasn't sure if he wanted me to leave, what was making him look so crazed?
"Dr. Cullen, what's wrong? Are you…hungry?" I asked again. I was surprised that the word hungry came out of my mouth. I'd always thought of the Cullens as thirsty when they hadn't fed, not hungry. Hungry made me think of the way Edward looked at me like he wanted to do more than just kiss me.
Carlisle squeezed his eyes shut took another deep breath, shivered, and then shook his head again, swallowed, and opened them. He seemed calmer still, aside from the new, slight tremble evident in his hands. He tried to smile, but failed. He licked his lips, and opened his mouth as if to speak, took a breath, and snapped it closed sharply.
Realizing this line of questioning was going nowhere, but sufficiently relieved that I was not going to be the special of the day chez Cullen, I decided to make myself scarce. Now that my concerns about safety were mostly quashed, I again found myself feeling very exposed, newly aware of my semi-clothed state.My blush returned in full force and I broke his gaze to look around me for the nearest and most logical method of escape to Edward's room, where my clothes resided.
"Okay, well, then…I'm going to just go and…um, go." I irked out, my nerves getting the best of me. I started to back up and turn, but then heard his attempt to clear his throat and a rough, cracking voice plead, "Bella?"
He sounded desperate, like he wanted me to save him. From what I had no idea. I couldn't help but turn back to look at him as he took a step toward me. I backed up again, purely as a reaction to his movement, and found my back against the wall, facing those wild eyes. He took another step toward me and the scene from my dream flashed behind my eyes, and I blinked rapidly, trying to displace it.
I noticed his chest rising and falling rapidly with trembling breath as he took another step and invaded my personal space. I could feel the stirring of air on my hair as he exhaled, looking down at me. He suddenly seemed to tower over me, not because of his height, but more so because of the enormity of emotion on his face.
He stared right through me and I could feel my knees shaking in anticipation of what might happen next. And then he reached up and placed his hand above my breast, over my heart. His touch was so inappropriate yet so exhilarating. He flattened his hand out, and I was sure he could feel my heart pounding against my skin. He closed his eyes and tipped his head back and let out a groan that confused and exhilarated me.
He pulled his head back up, and so slowly, opened his eyes, and unleashed the full power of his natural and vampiric charm. My eyes widened as I finally realized that I recognized this look. I recognized the emotion behind his crazed eyes and odd behavior: the held breath, the trembling upon breathing in, the pained expression, the furrowed brow, and the black eyes full of bloodlust.
Only it wasn't bloodlust. Those eyes were the same I had looked into in my dream. It was lust.
Oh, god. Carlisle could smell me. He had heard me and smelled me and knew what I'd done. I immediately turned four shades of purple and broke his gaze to look for a way out, away from this situation. He sensed me trying to leave and moved his hand of my chest and the other so they were on either side of me, trapping me there.
I stopped, and looked back at him. He unclenched his jaw, forcibly calming himself, and finally choked out: "No, Bella. You mustn't leave." I opened my mouth to tell him I had to, but only a sob escaped. I felt my eyes well up with tears of embarrassment.
"No," he said roughly, moving one hand to grip my chin and force my eyes to his. "No," he said more calmly, "you mustn't cry. One so beautiful should never be ashamed of her beauty." He traced his fingertips from my temple to my cheek and then down to my neck and under and around my ear. His touch made me shake and I felt the hum again – the hum from yesterday, only so much more intense. It was vibrating through me, pulsing from his fingertips straight to the swollen bundle of nerves between my legs.
Keeping his eyes locked on mine, he moved his other hand to my cheek to brush away the tears, then brought it to his lips and licked the tears from his fingers, groaning. And then, in one swift movement, he pressed his whole body to mine before I had time to think or breathe or realize what was happening.
His lips hovered over mine and his burning eyes were locked on mine, searching. "Bella, I'm going to kiss you. Kiss you like you deserve – like you need to be kissed. I'm going to give you what Edward can't. And I'm not going to apologize, Bella."
And then he opened his lips and kissed me like a grown man kisses a woman. It was neither chaste nor gentle nor considerate nor patient. It was ardent and driven and selfish and hurried. He opened his mouth and licked my bottom lip; I responded immediately, begging silently for what I knew was coming. His tongue pressed into my mouth and touched mine and my body awoke like he'd just struck a match. I groaned – groaned! – out loud and felt my knees buckle. His arm surrounded my back then, supporting me and pressing me to him. I felt his hard, muscular chest against me, and his throbbing need press into my stomach. A new wave of arousal hit me and he pulled back for a moment, taking a deep breath, before pressing me harder against the wall and him, kissing me with such passion my head began to swim. I hadn't realized that I'd been aching to be kissed like this for so long until my thirst for this type of intimacy had been quenched. Now I felt like I could never get enough, like I wanted to devour him.
His kisses became more and more passionate, and his hand on my cheek started to move down my neck, tangling in my hair as he pulled away for a second saying, "Ugh, Bella, you are so warm," kiss, "and so soft," kiss, " and oh GOD that smell," kiss, "I can't stop," kiss, "I won't." He pulled back and looked at me again, the wild eyes unblinking, before he attacked my lips with renewed vigor and slid is hand down over my heart. He continued down, and I pulled away from his lips and gasped in shock as he cupped my breast. He reclaimed my lips and began to cup and squeeze my breast, and then rubbed his thumb across the nipple. I had never felt anything before in my life to compare to this feeling. When he lightly pinched my nipple between his fingers, I cried out in pleasure, losing control of my legs, his arm completely holding me up.
"Oh, yes, my dear, I am going to make you fucking buckle and cry out my name," he grunted before moving the hand on my back down to my ass, cupping the cheek and squeezing it, pressing me to him even tighter. "I know what you need, and I can give it to you," he said, moving his kisses to my neck, "and you can give me what I need before I lose my fucking mind," he said roughly.
I gasped at his rough words and foul language. This was not the calm, kind Carlisle I knew, uttering curses mingled with passionate pleas. This was something else entirely. His words alone were sending me into a frenzy. "Carlisle…I…why…ugh," I tried to say, my mind clouded and on another planet. A whispered voice in the back of my head urgently pleaded with me to stop, but I could barely hear it and the sounds coming from Carlisle were drowning it out: licks and grunts and words.
"Oh, my dear girl, I am going to make you cry out with such fervor you won't remember your name," he said, sucking on the flesh next to the collar of my t-shirt. I rubbed my legs together trying to alleviate the delicious pull between them, but he forced them apart with his thigh. I was suddenly reminded that this was familiar; this had been the scene in my daydream, although slightly different, this was what I'd pictured.
"You need this, you need to feel this, to feel me," he said gruffly, almost as if to convince himself. I was already convinced that I couldn't stop this if I tried; my body wouldn't let me. I barely heard him over the sounds I couldn't distinguish. And then I realized they were coming from me: whimpers, begging words, and moans.
"Please, please, please," I said, over and over. Was I begging him to stop, or to continue? My mind was a complete fog and out of my control.
"Oh, you don't have to beg, Bella, I know what your body is craving. I heard you trying to touch yourself yesterday, you innocent, sweet girl. You've been so frustrated; I could feel it through the bathroom door." He was sucking and licking along my neck as he massaged my breast and palmed my ass.
"Uggh, please," I begged.
"I heard you again today, and I almost lost my mind when I smelled you – oh god – and I could hear you touching yourself. Hear that finger of yours through your wet panties moving them back and forth over your delicate human flesh. " He moved his mouth up to lick and suck on my earlobe and that soft place behind my ear.
"With that soft, wet thump of your heart and that smell oozing from your body, I almost came right there, fully clothed. I had to lower my trousers and stroke myself or I would've exploded in need. And then you called out my name, oh god, and I almost barreled through the door and fucked you right there."
I whimpered at the thought of him on the other side of the door, touching himself, while I had come screaming his name. "OH and that smell, that fucking smell is enough to make me insane, my dear, and I can't stop until I have it. All of it."
He moved his hand from my breast down to my waist, squeezing, and then down the side to the hem of my shirt, and then under it to rub my thigh. I felt like I was going to hyperventilate when he moved over to palm me through my panties.
"Oh my god, woman, you are so fucking wet," he groaned loudly, closing his eyes and tilting his head back. He took another deep breath and I could feel his whole body shudder.
"You don't understand Bella," he said in a strained voice, "your blood does not sing to me, but your smell – this smell – sings to me. I can't keep myself away from you any longer. I smell you and I'm instantly hard and consumed with thoughts of – of doing these things – to you." He moved his hand so quickly I didn't register he'd destroyed my panties until I felt his cold, hard fingers against my sensitive flesh. I gasped out of surprise and pleasure as he began to move his two fingers in circles, pressing up against my clitoris. I threw my head back and groaned.
"I'm obsessed with you, with thinking of only this. Sex doesn't sate me anymore, I can only think of you, of touching you like this, of seeing your face twisted in pleasure," he said as he bent to pull my lips between his again and tangle my tongue with his. My body was vibrating with pulses of pleasure as he continued to circle his fingers against me, and then he pushed his fingers into me as he continued to rub me with his thumb. I cried out, not recognizing my own voice.
"Oh, god, so warm. Ugh, and that thumping heart – it's buzzing in my brain. You are so fucking warm and wet and slick against my fingers. I can feel the blood pumping in your veins. Ugh, god, the tempo is hypnotic." His words made me shake inside and out. My body was in overdrive, the pull between my legs increasing at every word. The idea that my being human was sending him into a frenzy pushed me into a new level of arousal.
"You need this, don't you? Say it, Bella, tell me," he pleaded forcefully.
"Oh, god, yes, please. Please don't stop," I begged.
"Oh, I won't stop, rest assured, I won't. Not until you're shaking and swollen and satisfied. Everywhere," he said with a serious, desperate look. He pushed his fingers into me over and over, pushing toward release. My thighs started to shake, I was so close.
"Ugh, not yet, not here. I have to feel you around me…so warm," he said, his voice frantic between kisses. My vision blurred suddenly and I found myself straddling Carlisle's lap, who was sitting in the red leather wing-backed chair in his office. Never breaking the contact between his fingers and my body, he chuckled soft and low, and said, "Yes, my dear, fallible human. I heard you talk in your sleep."
I tilted my head back in pleasure and felt one of his hands move between us to touch my most sensitive spot. "Oh, so good," I heard myself say aloud, "don't stop, oh-oh!, don't stop!"
He quickly yanked my t-shirt over my head. His irises flared with a burning need and his lips sought out my breast, while his hand continued its ministrations between my legs. I clumsily reached out, trying to unbutton his shirt while simultaneously remembering to breathe and stay upright. He pulled away from the delicious circles he was making around my nipple with his tongue and muttered "allow me," and in a blur, his shirt, coat, and stethoscope were gone.
I ran my hands along his neck, his shoulders, his arms, reveling in their strong, toned perfection. He was not as thin and lanky as Edward; he had been older when he was turned, and his body was more mature. He felt like a man rather than a boy: rounded, strong, muscular shoulders, long, strong arms, broad, lean chest. He exuded confidence, experience, and a clear knowledge of what he desired, and that he was not afraid to pursue it, and that it was me.
I wrapped my arms around his head as he sucked my nipple into his mouth, impossibly trying to get closer to him. After a moment, he relinquished my breast and trailed his kisses up my neck to my pulse point where he sucked. He pulled back and muttered curses and benevolences against my skin.
He increased the speed with which his fingers manipulated me and I was ready to fall apart. "Fuck, I can feel your blood pumping, so close to the skin, singing along in your veins, forcing the heat out of you. Your beautiful heat. Ugh, I can't wait any longer, Bella."
I reached down between us and tried to wrangle his belt from his pants, and once again he interrupted my fumbling to perform his favorite disappearing clothes magic trick. I looked down, wide-eyed at him, never having seen a man in the flesh like this. His erection was straight and hard, standing at attention between us. I reached down, fighting the urge to lose myself and fall apart at the workings of his fingers, and touched my fingers lightly to the head. He hissed in a breath, his eyes reflexively closing. I grasped it firmly, and moved my hand up, reveling in the silky smooth rock-hard feel of his skin.
And then I heard it. The sound that had permeated my dream and my day dream, thrummed through my bones, and boiled my blood. His grunts and groans of pleasure, filling in the gaps between my moans, turned into a soft purr, emanating from deep with his chest, causing my body to literally hum – a full-on amplification of the earlier shadow of a hum I'd felt upstairs.
The hum in my body was tuned to his purr; one was the effect of the other. He had caused the hum yesterday when he'd touched me. On purpose. He'd caused it earlier when he'd watched and listened to me touch myself – the click of the door in the latch must have been what had awoken me. He knowingly caused my body to quiver and shake, manipulating my physical reactions. Carlisle had wanted me, even before tonight.
His purr continued, assaulting my senses. Combined with the feeling of being targeted and desired by him even though it was forbidden pushed me over the edge I had been trying to hold onto with all my might. I threw my head back and cried out, inevitably squeezing my hand hard, as if I were trying to keep from falling completely apart. He grunted loudly and the purring got louder as my hand did not let up in its grasp; I held on with all my might as I rode out my orgasm on his hand.
I looked down at him as I was still shaking and blinking, trying to focus. He was staring at me with such intense desire his eyes seemed to glow amber. He slowly withdrew his fingers, looking at them with a sense of awe and desire. Slowly, he raised his eyes to mine and carefully brought his fingers to his lips. He closed his eyes, as if to deprive that one sense more to enhance another, and inhaled with gusto. When he opened his eyes, they were ablaze with a fire I realized I'd only had a glimpse of in the hallway. This was the vampire, Carlisle Cullen. This was his raw, true form, quivering at the temptation before him, anxious to devour the part of me that sang to him.
His lips instinctively curled back as he opened his mouth to breathe in again. The expression reminded me of a cat when they breathe with their mouths open to take in more of the smell. He parted his lips and painstakingly slowly, he edged the fingers into his mouth, closing his lips around them. His lids screwed shut and I could see his eyes fluttering beneath them. He then purred so loudly, I felt it in my stomach the way you do when the bass is turned up too loud on a car stereo. He opened his eyes, devouring me with them, and slipped his fingers out through tightly sealed lips. He then shook his head as if to say there was no way I was getting out of this alive…or at least with my virginity intact.
He grabbed my hips and flipped us so I was sitting in the chair with my ass on the edge, and he was kneeling between my legs. He yanked my hips forward a little more, looked up at me with a look so mischievous I could never have placed it within the realm of Carlisle's demeanor, and began to lick and suck on my inner thighs, almost as if he were cleaning them. I gasped as my skin tingled with the newness of the feeling and the reverberating purr pressed against it.
I fell back on my elbows, mashing my head against the back of the chair at an awkward angle that allowed me to see his beautiful blond hair between my legs. I took a mental snapshot of this dirty image to file away forever. His tongue started to move closer to the apex of my thighs and I realized I was panting in anticipation. Finally, he pressed his lips to me fully, and I cried out at the vibration of his purring breath and his soft lips against my clitoris. I thought I was lost, and then his tongue joined the party, and my mind spun out of reality as he moved it against me, side to side, flattened and soft and vibrating with his purring and soft growls that brought me to the edge and kept me there for what seemed like hours. My moans of pleasure seemed to weave together into one long wail, and as he thrust two fingers into me, I toppled over the edge, screaming, arching my back and pushing against his hand. He pulled his hand away and lapped at me, urging forward the waves of pleasure so that they never seemed to stop or start but just continue to be.
He pulled his lips away, finally, and looked up at me, sweating, panting, eyes crossed and unfocused, and smiled, his eyes not having lost any of their intensity. He swiftly lifted me up with both hands, sat back in the chair, straddled my knees on either side of his lap, and impaled me down upon him with one swift motion. I cried out from the sting of losing my innocence, but the pain was outweighed by the peculiar pleasurable pressure now wrapped within my pulsing insides.
He cried out as well, and then captured his bottom lip between his teeth, his forehead on my shoulder, panting his hot breath down my chest. "Oh God," he whispered over and over like a prayer. The sting slowly ebbed away as he waited impatiently squirming beneath me. I felt the urge to move on him, so I swiveled my hips forward and lifted up just slightly, gasping at the pleasure the movement created. My eyes flew open, surprised at how amazing it felt. His hands flew back to clutch my ass as he gasped. Now that I got a taste, I couldn't wait to do it again.
I began rocking forward and up, down and back, "Oh!" repeatedly escaping my lips. His purr reappeared, as he began to kiss my shoulder.
"Oh…oh, woman. So fantastic, holy hell," he irked out between grunts and small moans. "You are so warm, so tight. Ugh. And the blood of your innocence added to the mix! So tantalizing I can hardly control myself." He leaned down to kiss above my left breast. "Your wet thudding heart," he said as his kisses were interrupted only by his words and laps of his tongue, "beating so fast beneath my lips, pushing the blood through you," he moaned, "under my hands, around my cock, against my legs – ugh!"
He moved my hips faster, increasing the friction, causing new places to be touched deep within me. I cried out in pleasure again, feeling like I had completely lost control of my mind along with my body. "Your body and its heat are consuming me; I am at your mercy," he said as he pushed back against the chair with his head, eyes shut, moving my hips faster with his hands. "So human, so warm, so fucking HOT!" he yelled as Carlisle I'm-always-in-control Cullen lost his shit and stopped making sense as his words were overcome with the loud purr vibrating from within him. Just that thought made me so crazy on top of the mind-boggling pleasure that I began to laugh hysterically.
To convince myself I'd not lost my sanity and to muffle the crazed laughter, I leaned down and captured his lips with my own again. He devoured my mouth – kissing me with as much fervor as possible without bruising or breaking the skin. He moved down my neck to the pulse point again, sucking and pushing down just enough to make me squirm, but not enough to leave a mark. He then started to kiss and lick that sweet spot just behind my ear. I moved so quickly against him now that I was practically bouncing on him. His purr increased in frequency and pitch, and suddenly it seemed to fill up the room. I whimpered and groaned and whined and ached. His started thrusting his hips up when I came down, increasing the pleasure while the leather protested and squeaked beneath our naked flesh.
Panting, I threw my head back as I rode him in that leather chair, and he reached up to grasp my breast and roll my nipple between his icy fingers. His lips were on my neck, sucking and licking. I teetered on the edge, strung-out with this pleasure. I whimpered in one long, continuous kitten-like sound, begging for release. He took a hold of my hips, wrapping one arm all the way around me, pressing his fingers into my flesh to the point of almost pain, and then began to thrust into me with such force and speed I didn't think possible. The fingers between us increased the speed of their ministrations to such an extent that it felt like one long vibration, overloading my senses. I threw my hand back and screamed in pleasure, my inner muscles pulsing so hard they made me shake, but he didn't stop.
He kept the speed and pressure constant as his purring was accented with his loud grunts, his lips against my neck. My orgasm continued as I shuddered and shook, and another seemed to build on top of it as he relentlessly touched and pounded into me. Growling once again began to accompany the purring , causing vibrations against my skin at every point where our skin met. I could feel it inside of me, against my chest, through his lips. The hum enveloped my whole body tip to toe and I couldn't hold on any longer; pleasure hummed through me at the same frequency and pitch as his purr. I screamed as he thrust three hard times, and then held me to him with one long groan.
I shook and shuddered as he dropped his head to my shoulder, his forehead and breath against my sweaty skin cool and welcome. After a moment, leaned forward and ran his tongue from the valley between my breasts, up my chest and neck to the space behind my ear, collecting sweat and leaving goose bumps in his wake. I panted, trying to collect myself enough to gather a thought together, when he pressed his lips to my ear and whispered, "What you just allowed me – to revel in your humanity, Bella – I felt human again. I can't tell you what that means to me. If I could cry tears of happiness and relief, I would. You are truly a beautiful person. Truly."
I started to tear up, feeling overwhelmed at the physical sensations slowly ebbing away in combination with the consequences that had begun to form in my mind. I gave Carlisle something he – almost above all others – cherished, which thrilled me, however, I had just lost my virginity to Edward's father. Panic began to set in. Edward. I loved Edward, wanted my to bind my existence to him for eternity more than anything in the world, and I had just destroyed not only my dream but him. He would die knowing this. I would be responsible for breaking him, he would never forgive me, and being Edward, he would find a way to blame himself for leaving me here with Carlisle or pushing me away with his limits.
I would be responsible for destroying his family by creating a rift between not only Edward and his father, but Carlisle and Esme. What kind of person was I? I just destroyed countless lives as well as any of my own dreams for happiness for a giddy fuck with my future father-in-law.
As the extent of the atrocity I'd just committed revealed itself to my consciousness, I began to sob, overcome with guilt and remorse. Carlisle cradled me in his arms, holding me and rocking me as I sobbed and shook, whispering consoling, velvety words to me that I couldn't comprehend. I couldn't focus on his words enough to understand what he was saying. My brain was mush and my head was pounding and I could only wallow in my culpability.
After a long while, Carlisle tilted my chin up so I was forced to look at him. I winced at the feeling of shame I felt when my body reacted to seeing his beautiful face. "My dear Bella, please, please listen to me," he pleaded.
I couldn't listen, I could only sob. He picked me up and took me up to the bathroom in Edward's room, filling the tub, and then placing me in it with great care. He used a soft cloth to gently wash me, encouraging me to calm down. He sat silently beside the tub with me while I soaked and sobbed. He stood up, pulled the plug, and picked me up. He had acquired clothing along the way somewhere and was fully dressed, but got his pants wet as he picked me up out of the tub. He dried me off and disappeared only to reappear seconds later with a velour Juicy jogging suit that was just my size and a letter. He led me to Edward's bed and set me down sweetly, handing me the note, and kissing me chastely on the cheek.
"Thank you, Bella, you've saved me. I know you hate yourself right now, but please, read the note, and know that I will always be grateful to you. You were…amazing, sexy…wonderful. I will see you after things have cooled down. We will be friends, I promise."
And with that, he left. I curled upon my side in Edward's bed, hating myself for allowing the comfort of his smell to flow over and around me. As I sobbed into my pillow, I unfolded the note crumpled in my fist, and read:
Please don't beat yourself up over this. So many factors randomly came together to create this vortex of passion that loyalties had to be sacrificed in order to keep us all alive and safe. As you've now realized, you were a singer of sorts to Carlisle. He kept this well-hidden for a long time, but he has been on the brink of breaking for some time now. You have been frustrated to the point of mental exhaustion, and Edward has been battling with his bloodlust, his lust, and his vampiric nature and strength.
What happened today had to happen. It was the only future where we all survived and we were all able to forgive and be a family again. If Carlisle had not consummated what his body had been driving him to do since the day he met you, he would have eventually left the family for good in an attempt to keep himself from literally attacking you or going crazy, and in the process, causing a break between him and Esme.
If you had not found release with Carlisle, you would have been so overcome with frustration and desire that you would have convinced Edward to break his rules. You have been wound so tightly for so long that even Jasper's attempts to alleviate some of the frustration have fallen short of their desired effect on you as of late. If you had continued that path, you would have eventually cracked and pushed Edward outside his limits, which, unfortunately, ends with you dead.
And no matter what other option I tried for your future, any future with you and Edward having your first experience together always ended in that same result: you dead from blood loss due to a mouth-shaped gaping hole in your neck or from a broken spine and neck.
So, you see, this was the only way. It was the only way for Carlisle to stay with his family, the most important thing to him. And it was the only way for you to be with Edward and not end up dead.
Much to your surprise (yes I can see your face as I write this), Edward knows. He knows already, and he knew before he left this weekend. I told him last night, but he was not surprised. He'd seen snippets of the possible outcomes in the past, hence his continued respect for his damned limits. He also saw the internal war Carlisle has been living since that first day he met you in the ER, even with all the internal diversions Carlisle's been using to keep those thoughts from leaking through.
He knew this was the only way, Bella. He just didn't know exactly how or when, until last night. He saw my vision, and although you can only guess how upset he was, he knew – has known for some time – that this was how it had to work.
I placed this note and these clothes in the doorway to my closet, knowing Carlisle would come here looking for clothes for you. He didn't know all of this before, but I left him a note in his study that he read before he saw you tonight telling him to give in and let it happen, that it was the only way we'd all survive. He didn't know any of the details until now. He's on his way to Denali, reading another note I left him in his Mercedes. Esme will meet him there to help him work through it all. She knows as well, and continues to love you like a daughter.
Please, don't worry. Edward will be home soon, and he has already learned to accept in his mind what has happened. Now we just need for you to let go of the guilt and revel in the fact that we love you, all of us. And don't worry, what happened with Carlisle won't happen again, but neither of you will ever regret it. It was a beautiful thing, after all. Not every girl has their first experience with someone as kind, loving, gorgeous, and passionate as Carlisle Cullen. I mean, come on, he's Carlisle. (This is not weird; he's not really my dad, Bella.) He's hot. Sex-ass hot. He's a DILF if there ever was one.
I sat there with wide eyes, reading and re-reading, shaking my head back and forth, until I heard the soft creek of the bedroom door opening.
My heart raced when I heard his soothing honey voice, which had no note of disdain or regret.
"Oh, god, Edward," I said, throwing my arms around him as he raced to me and pulled me up from the bed. I buried my head in his shoulder, the sobs starting again.
"Oh, my Bella, don't cry. I know. I know it all. It's okay. It was the only way. I love you. I love Carlisle, and I forgive him. After all, who knows more about you singing that siren song of yours than me? He was just lucky that it was your beautiful body and not your blood," he said, lovingly pushing my hair back from my forehead, searching out my eyes with his worried, sweet almond eyes.
I stared at him in disbelief. He tended to be so possessive, so quick to temper when he even sensed an inappropriate thought about me from another man. I couldn't believe his acceptance of this.
"But I have to tell you, Bella. Now that you're more…relaxed, Alice doesn't see any problems with you and I…pushing our boundaries," he said as he hugged me to him, stroking my hair.
"And the first order of business," he whispered into my ear, "is to make sure that everyone is well aware…that you belong to me," he said, proceeding to kiss me senseless. He moved up to my neck and licked and sucked until I could feel the blood rush there.
Pulling back to inspect the strawberry-shaped mark he'd created, he gave me a half-brooding, half-amused smile that reminded me that he was still at heart a young, volatile, inexperienced teenager. "Good think Alice has a turtleneck that fits you. You're going to need it before you leave here tomorrow," he said.