Chapter Notes

This story started life as a Halloween one-shot which won second place in the "In The Dark" competition, but for some reason, it proved surprisingly popular and I was persuaded to turn it into a fic.

This is the first thing I've written since my first fan-fic, The Screamers, and it's been really satisfying to create some new characters. I hope you like them.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Twilight characters, SM does. I own a sick, perverted mind that my mother would be ashamed of.


Chapter 1 - Halloween


"Oh, fuck, yes, Bells, I'm coming, baby! I'm coming, baby! I'M COMING, BAYBEEEE!"

I heard you the first time, idiot. In fact I'm pretty sure old, deaf Mrs. Cope who lives three blocks away heard you. Now, stop pretending to try and find my g-spot and get the hell off me.

Jake grunted as he thrust into me one last time, holding his breath as he orgasmed, the most ridiculous expression on his face I'd ever seen.

I moaned half-heartedly and waited for him to pull out.

"Oh, man, Bells, that was incredible," he panted, pulling himself back onto his knees and removing the spent condom. "You felt that too, right? It wasn't just me? Man, we were on fire tonight."

"Yeah, babe," I said, barely disguising my boredom. "You were awesome. I came so hard."

He looked at me with what he probably thought was a sexy expression. I resisted rolling my eyes at him.

"I know," he said, low and husky. "I could feel you coming around me."

I bit my tongue to stop from laughing out loud.

Sure you did, stud. Jesus, the power of positive thinking is really heightening your delusions of grandeur, isn't it?

Jake Black and I had been dating for two years. We'd been having paint-by-numbers sex for pretty much the entire time after he practically begged me to go down on him at the end of our very first date. I'd obliged, not because he had begged me, but because I was mildly attracted to him and thought we could have some fun together. He was two years younger than me but he certainly didn't look it. He was tall, well-built and boyishly handsome, and as I discovered on our first date, he had a very nice cock - decent length, respectable girth, reasonably straight and on the whole, quite pretty.

What a shame he had no freaking clue what to do with it.

Jeez, that was bitchy. Sorry.

Let me try to explain.

Jake was a nice guy.

I know - what a heinous thing to say about someone, right? But I couldn't help the fact that it was true. He was kind, considerate, handsome, sensitive and thoroughly fucking boring. To me, anyway.

Now, I'm not saying I'm anything special because I'm just about as ordinary as you can get, but we're not talking about me at the moment. We're talking about Jake.

I don't know what I thought being Jake's girlfriend would be like, but what I didn't expect it to be was hard work. I mean, he was an attractive man. VERY attractive. Why the hell didn't my body respond to him how it logically should? It didn't make sense, and the more I tried to be turned on by him, the angrier I got that I wasn't, and somehow the bitch-switch in my brain got stuck in overdrive until I found a way to blame him for my lack of attraction. Every fake groan that I uttered, every fake orgasm I performed, every lying, counterfeit emotion I manufactured so that I wouldn't have to face the reality that, as much as I wanted it to be his fault, the truth was that it was mine. There was something wrong with me. I mean Jesus fucking Christ, he was gorgeous. If I couldn't get off having sex with someone like Jake, then I'm completely defective, right?

It wasn't that we had a lack of chemistry. He was very attracted to me and I knew very well how I affected his body. The trouble was MY lack of chemistry, because despite everything Jake had going for him, and there was a LOT, there was something about him and me together that, in my mind, just added up to 'bland'.

The trouble was that he didn't see it. He worshipped the ground I walked on and treated me like a Goddess come to earth. I think that's why we were still together and I was still going through the motions of unfulfilling sex – because if I broke up with him, he'd be gutted. He truly believed we were soul mates, and every time he said it, the thick knot of resentment in my gut coiled a little tighter, squeezing out darts of derision and sarcasm aimed at his every word and action.

I was an asshole to him because I didn't have the heart to leave him.

Still, the irony of the fact that I was probably doing more damage by staying wasn't lost on me, and I felt like a first-class bitch because of it. I should have had the courage to just bite the bullet and break his heart – quickly...humanely – and let him find someone who would truly appreciate everything he had to offer.

But I didn't.

"Bells?" he said softly as he crawled back into bed and wrapped me in his big, warm arms. "Wanna do something cool for Halloween?"

If you ask me to go trick or treating with you, I'm going to rip off your pretty dick.

"Um... sure. Like what?"

He looked down at me. "It's going to be a surprise," he said mischievously.

Oh, Jesus. YOU FUCKING IDIOT! We've been together for TWO YEARS and you don't know how much I HATE surprises by now? WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?

"Great," I sighed. "Can't wait."

I made a show of looking at the clock beside the bed. "Oh no. It's getting late. You'd better go before Charlie gets home."

In reality, Charlie loved Jake and probably would have been happy for me to marry him and start squeezing out tiny, russet-colored babies, but I often dropped hints that he kept a loaded shot-gun in the house just in case he found someone in my bed so Jake wouldn't feel the need to linger after sex and try to cuddle.

It was very effective.

Jake sprang off the bed and started pulling on his clothes.

I gawked in wonder at his body.

Damn. He really is spectacular. Why the hell aren't I more attracted to him?

He noticed me ogling him and smiled. "I see you checking me out. Like what you see?"

"Not enough, apparently," I mumbled.

"What was that, honey?"

"Ah... yeah, babe, of course I like what I see. You're hot."

He smiled the most beautiful smile an ungrateful cow like me could ask for and kissed me on the nose.

Dude! Stop fucking kissing me on the nose! I HATE being kissed on the nose! I'm not a fucking Labrador. Kiss me ANYWHERE ELSE but my goddamn nose. PLEASE!

"Bye, beautiful," he said lovingly and kissed my nose once more.

Fuck you, nose-kisser.

"Bye, handsome," I replied so sweetly it'd rot your teeth.

He clomped down the stairs and when I heard the door shut behind him I finally let out a frustrated sigh.

I'm a goddamn terrible person. I have a wonderful, loving, hot-assed man who would kill or die for me and all I can think about is how I want more. How I need more.

I suck.


A familiar pall of guilt settled over me as I took a shower, and then pulled on my sleep shirt and shorts, restlessly preparing myself for another night of vicarious pleasure.

A shudder ran through me as I laid down, my skin tingling with anticipation as I waited for sleep and the dream lover who accompanied it.

Every night, for the past month, he'd come to me in my dreams – a beautiful, dark angel who played my body like a priceless Stradivarius, eliciting responses in slumber that I had NEVER experienced awake, especially not with Mr. My-idea-of-foreplay-is-turning-off-the-TV.

Each morning I'd wake up gasping - orgasming as the last remnants of sleep lifted - moaning and panting and squirming, inexplicably naked and wet with desire, reaching out for someone who didn't exist, remembering touches that never happened.

The whole phenomenon freaked me out and thrilled me far more than I cared to admit, and so every night I closed my eyes with a mixture of excitement and trepidation, waiting for the blackness to take me and for my dark angel to step out of my subconscious and claim me as his own.

Jesus. I'm cheating on Jake with a figment of my imagination.

I'm so enormously fucked-up


Billowing shadows bloomed behind my eyelids as I sank into a restless slumber. Even as random dream images wafted through my brain, I was searching for him, speeding through the dusky landscape, desperate to find his familiar, compelling silhouette.

The air around me sparked and crackled, and my breath hitched in my lungs as my body responded to the mere idea of him. It was like I was coated in prickling expectation, restless and impatient for his hands... his mouth.

I craved him like a drug, and every long moment without him made my nerves edgy and fitful.

Suddenly, I felt it. A rolling wave of desire enveloping me, dragging me into its depths, carrying me on a cool, soothing breeze.

He was here.

I could sense him long before I felt his ghostly caresses whisper across my body, every part of me desperate for the gentle hush of his skin on mine.

Cinnamon and sandalwood filled the air as my skin erupted under his cool fingers.



He always called me Isabella.

I found it strange that my subconscious would make my dream man call me a name I usually hated. If Jake ever called me Isabella I'd throw a massive shit-fit, and yet hearing it in his velvet-smooth voice made me want to never be called anything else.

"Tell me you want me, Isabella."

I felt a sigh of air graze my legs. I instinctively parted them

"Hmmm... yes... I want you..."

"Tell me that I'm the only one who can make you feel this way."

"Only you... please... touch me..."

My skin contracted and pebbled as cool fingers closed around my legs and pulled me to the end of the bed, gently pushing my knees apart as every part of me coiled in anticipation of what was about to happen.

This is how it always happens. He opens me up to him, gently, reverently, and then, with a flurry of tiny movements and a hush of cool air, I'm suddenly naked - panting and breathless and waiting.

Stone fingers trailed over my legs, caressing my ankles, my calves, my thighs, whispering cold fire over my blazing skin, making me squirm and whimper, desperate to have him relieve the white-hot ache howling inside me.

"You're so warm, Isabella. Always. So soft and warm and perfect."

My back lifted off the bed as I felt his tongue and mouth lap and suckle my legs, trailing up to my thighs, the delicious torture causing me to shudder, my hands gripping my sheets desperately, needing more.

I heard a low chuckle.

"You're always so eager, so responsive, and yet, I've never heard these noises come out of you when your heaving oaf of a boyfriend is touching you. Why is that?"

His mouth was on my inner thigh, and his tongue was taunting me – circling in ever diminishing spirals – licking me everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

"Oh... God..."

He chuckled again.

"He can't do this to you, can he? He can't make your body sing like I can."

Finally, his mouth came down on exactly where I needed it most, his cool, strong tongue working me into a frenzy, filling me with the addictive pleasure only he could provide. His mouth enveloped me, sucking me hungrily, a low growl reverberating against me, making everything inside me clench and grasp for more.

"Oh... fuck... yes."

He hummed in satisfaction.

"My God, you taste so much better than you smell, and you smell absolutely incredible. I'll never get tired of how you feel on my tongue."

As if to demonstrate, his tongue lathed over me slowly, firmly and mind-blowingly frequently.

My muscles were aching with tension, each pass of his wet coolness adding to the coiling pressure, making me dizzy and incoherent. Nothing else mattered but the rush of ecstatic endorphins blasting through my body, teasing me with the promise of something more.

"Please," I whimpered, panting heavily with the frustration of unreleased pressure. "Please... more..."

His hands started stroking my legs again and I whimpered as his mouth disappeared from my overheated skin.

"Isabella," he groaned, "You have no idea what it does to me when you beg. Do it again."

I reached out and grasped the chilly hand that was trailing streaks of fire over my thigh. I heard him hiss softly as my desperate fingers gripped his and dragged them to where I needed his touch most, pushing them against me, urging him inside.

"I need you," I begged shamelessly, my voice strained and urgent. "Please... I need to feel you inside me..."

I heard him moan softly, and I gasped at the sensation of his fingers pushing deep inside me, a loud groan bursting out of me as he started thrusting his fingers slowly, curling them up to hit the spot that jolted thick bolts of pleasure straight through me as his cool breath washed over me.

"Yes, Isabella. Moan for me... tell me what I do to you. Describe your pleasure."

"Oh... God," I whimpered as his fingers moved faster, causing my muscles to grasp at him furiously, tightening and contracting around him in a frenzy. "Oh... yes... please... I'm so close... please... oh... God, yes!"

All my muscles started quivering as a white light bloomed inside my head. I squeezed my eyes shut as I felt the exquisite tension inside me reach a new high, my breathing loud and labored as his mouth came down on me again.


A strangled wail tore out of me as the excruciating pressure inside me exploded into devastating waves of pleasure. I gasped and writhed as he continued to pump into me, my muscles spasming and undulating around his long fingers.

"Yes, Isabella," he breathed in satisfaction. "That's it. Let the pleasure take you. You're so magnificent when you come – primal and radiant."

My hips lifted off the bed, bucking against him as ecstasy crashed through me, shattering me into a million gasping pieces, electrifying my muscles and liquefying my bones.

"I knew it would be like this with you," his voice shimmered in the darkness, "from the very first moment I caught your scent, I knew you had ruined me for anyone else."

I slumped heavily against the bed as the last of the tremors shuddered through my body.

"And I knew you would feel it too. I have no idea why but our bodies call to each other, Isabella, beckoning us to be together. It's inevitable - fated. But I can't have you in the daylight, so I'll settle for being with you in the darkness, grasping at you while you sleep, where I can touch you and taste you without you running from me."

I sighed as my thundering heart began to wane, the sweet drug of his touch still sparkling in my veins, lulling me to oblivion with its heavy pleasure. His voice reached out and caressed me with silken strands, weaving through my mind and soul, stitching me to him – the perfect man... the perfect lover.

"Sleep well, Isabella," his voice ordered softly, my body obeying him faithfully, knowing it could never deny him no matter how hard I tried.

My last few drops of conscious reason argued that I was quickly becoming obsessed with a man who didn't exist - a phantom – an enigmatic, dark shadow that I had created in the unfulfilled basement of my mind to make up for the lack of perfection in my life.

It didn't matter. He had shattered me and I couldn't be put back together by anyone but him.

"Thank you," I muttered lazily as unconsciousness blanketed me completely.

His silvery voice caressed me one last time.

"You're welcome, Isabella."


I thrashed in my bed as my heart thrummed with fear. Dark, feral images of ripping lust and crimson horror blasted through my brain. I groaned against the ferocious hunger that clawed at me from the inside, burning and consuming me, tearing away my reason and humanity.

I vaguely registered a cool smoothness sliding over my face as a shredding scream tore out of my throat. I sat up, gasping and terrified, clutching at the air around me for something to anchor me from losing myself in the gut-wrenching fear.

My eyes few open as my fingers closed around silky granite. The air froze in my lungs as I gazed into amber eyes inches from my own.

I heard a soft hiss and then the eyes were gone, as was the soothing stone in my hand. I looked around my room frantically, flicking the light on searching the shadows.

I was alone.

A light breeze rustled the curtains at my window and I looked at the empty space with disbelieving wonder. I walked to the window and peered outside, my eyes squinting as they struggled to navigate the surly blackness.

"Hello?" I called tentatively, my skin pebbling as the cold night air washed over my naked skin.

The night looked back at me impassively.

I laughed and ran my fingers through my hair.

"Good God, Bella, you are really losing your mind, aren't you?"

I padded back to the bed, picked up my discarded pajamas and started pulling them back on. How the hell I got them off every night was damn mystery. Sleep stripping?

As my head pushed through my t-shirt, I froze. I ripped it off and plunged my nose into its worn softness, inhaling desperately as I detected a familiar scent.

Holy hell. It can't be.

I sniffed again just to be sure.

Fuck me.

Cinnamon and sandlewood.

He was real.


I went through the next few days in a disbelieving haze. My brain screamed at me to stop being such an idiot and let go of the concept that the dark stranger who pleasured me beyond all reason was actually real, but the sharp, twisting knot of certainty that squirmed restlessly inside me knew otherwise.

He was real.

He wasn't a dream, or a shadow, or a figment of my imagination. He was a solid, corporeal man and he had invaded my room and brought me unprecedented pleasure for over a month.

The thought of a complete stranger being in my house, uninvited and unknown, should have terrified me. The fact that he touched me in my sleep – intimately... sexually- should have repulsed me. The fact that he was obviously obsessed with me to the point of breaking and entering should have me telling my father and letting Charlie kick his perverted, Bella-molesting ass.

But all I felt was longing. Longing to find out more about him. Longing to see him in the light. Longing to touch him and bring him as much pleasure as he had brought to me.


Jake's voice startled me.

I looked over at him, trying to conceal my unjustified annoyance.

"What?" I said too sharply.

He laughed at me.

"Jeez, Bells, what the hell is going on with you? You seem like you're a million miles away."

I exhaled heavily and shook my head.

"Shit, Jake. I'm sorry. I don't know where the hell my head is recently, and I shouldn't take it out on you."

He pulled me into his chest and tilted my chin up, kissing me softly and reverently. His warm mouth and soft lips moved across mine and I tried to answer his enthusiasm, but all I could think about was cool whispers and smooth stone.

He pulled back and looked down at me.

"So," he said excitedly, "I have a surprise for you."

I immediately tensed up.

"You know how I was talking about doing something cool for Halloween? Well, there's a club in Port Angeles that's throwing a big costume party this weekend, and I bought tickets for us. I also got us some kick-ass costumes – I'm going to be the big, bad wolf, and you're going to be Little Red Riding Hood. How cool is that?"

I stared at him.

"Jake, you're talking about dressing me up as a fairytale character and taking me to a nightclub where the music will probably be so freaking loud my ears will implode? No thanks."

I squirmed out of his arms and started clearing the dinner plates from the table.

"Aw, come on Bells," he pleaded, "All the guys from the rez are going, and I KNOW that most of your friends are going too. I even got us fake ID's so we can get in. It'll be fun."

Most of Jake's friends were his age, and as much as I liked them, I always felt like I was babysitting when I was around them. And my friends? I'd barely spent any time with Mike, Jessica and Angela since graduating Fork's High last year, and part of me was absolutely okay with that.

My restless boredom with everything not him was irritating me, and as usual, Jake was going to bear the brunt of my dissatisfaction.

I dumped the plates I was holding heavily in the sink and turned to him.

"Jacob Black, you know I hate crowds, you know I hate loud music, you KNOW I fucking hate fairytales – now explain to me why the hell you thought this would be a good idea on any level?"

Jake's face turned unexpectedly hard and he stood up and strode over to me, his eyes flashing with anger.

"Because, Bella," he said in a rough voice I'd never heard before, "I wanted to take my girlfriend out and do something interesting and fun. I wanted to get us out of this goddamn house for once and go somewhere we've never been before. I KNOW you don't like crowds or dressing up or loud music, but guess what? I do. I've spent two fucking years doing things you want to do. How about you park your selfishness for five seconds and do something I want to do?"

I blushed as his words cut into me.

Jake had never spoken to me like that before. He'd always pandered to my wishes, subjugated his will to mine.

I flinched under the truth of his anger.

He was right. I was selfish. I treated him like crap and I knew it.

He glared at me and I could feel waves of anger rolling off him.

Wow. I guess I really underestimated how much he wanted to go to this stupid costume party. He's really mad.

"I'm sorry Jake," I said as I reached up and stroked his face, trying to take away his frustration. "You're right. I'm an ass."

As suddenly as his anger appeared, it dissipated. He closed his eyes and shook his head slightly, as if he was trying to clear a fog. When he opened them again they were clear and bright.

He pulled me into his arms and sighed heavily.

"Jesus, Bells, I'm sorry. That was... shit... that was out of line."

"No, it wasn't," I said, feeling guilty for making him uptight. "You're right. You deserve to do something that you want to do for once."

"But still," he said, "I didn't mean to make you feel bad."

Jake, I make you feel bad on a daily basis. It was definitely your turn.

"I know," I said, running my hands along his muscled arms and trying to muster the faintest spark of enthusiasm for his idea, "But we should go to the party. It'll be fun. I'm sure I'll have a blast."

Fuck, I'm a terrible liar. Why does he put up with me? Just leave me, Jake. Honestly. It would be so much easier for both of us.

"I love you, Bells," he said, cupping my face in his hands. "You're amazing."

No, I'm not. I'm a bitch.

I hugged him so he wouldn't see the frustration on my face.

I guess he took that as a sign I wanted to fool around because he pressed me up against the counter and attacked my mouth, plunging his tongue in with wild abandon. I feigned a moan and grasped his broad shoulders, pulling him closer and willing my ridiculous body to respond to him the way it should.

He lifted me up and swung me around, placing my butt on the table. I wrapped my legs around his waist as he ground his hardening erection into me, trying to at least give him some pleasure as he groaned and kissed me even deeper.

I tried to match his enthusiasm, but all I could do was pretend. Pretend to want him the way he wanted me. Pretend to be the girlfriend he'd deluded himself into believing I was.

I mentally chastised myself for continuing this ridiculous charade as he started massaging my breasts with his giant hands, his hot mouth moving down to my throat.

"Oh, God, Jake," I mumbled half-heartedly, "you're really turning me on."

Fuck you, Swan, you are a goddamn piece of garbage, you know that?

I sighed as I looked vacantly out the kitchen window, barely registering Jake's moans and grunts of pleasure as he trailed his eager hands over my indifferent body.

Suddenly all of the air rushed out of my lungs as a pair of amber eyes sparkled outside the window in the darkness.

"Holy fuck!" I exclaimed loudly.

"Yeah, baby," Jake moaned, "tonight I'm only giving you the good stuff."

I shoved him off me and wrenched open the kitchen door, flying out into the night and searching the darkness. My head whipped around as the dancing shadows moved and swayed in the breeze.

"Hello?" I called uselessly.

The night air swirled around me, jolting my body as I inhaled its sharp coolness.

You're wasting your time, idiot. You know very well that he's not going to answer you, even if he is out there.


My voice sounded desperate and tight as it echoed off the shadowy, swaying trees.


Jake came up behind me and put his hands on my shoulder. "What is it? Did you see something?"

I searched the darkness once more before sighing in frustration and turning back towards the house.

"I guess not."

I wasn't imagining things. It was him.

"It must have just been my reflection in the window."

... or a bedroom-invading mystery-man sex-god.

My body ignited at the mere thought of him and my jeans were suddenly uncomfortably moist.

Jake closed the door behind us and grabbed me.

"Now," he said, trailing his hand down my chest, "Where were we?"

He rubbed his fingers against the crotch of my jeans and gasped. "Holy hell, Bells. You're completely soaked!"

Yeah, genius. That's what happens when a woman gets turned on. What a pity my panties are usually conspicuously dry around you.

He started pressing his fingers against me, licking my ear and grinding his erection into me.

"Bells," he said breathlessly, trying to direct me towards the steps, "Let's go upstairs."

I rolled my eyes and pushed him off me. My normal impatience with him was heightened exponentially by the fact that the one person that I wanted to be with - the man who could satisfy me in ways I never thought possible - had been standing outside my house, watching us.

"Jake, can we not? I'm not feeling so well," I said, trying to look sick. It was surprisingly easy

He frowned at me with concern. "Babe, are you okay?"

I sighed and rubbed my temples.

"No, I think I'm getting a migraine."

I'd never gotten a migraine in my life, but if you asked Jake, he'd tell you I got them every damn week like clockwork. They were my handy little get-out-of-sex-free cards, and when I had a really bad fake-migraine I could get away without seeing Jake for days.

Selfish cow.

"Oh. Okay," he said, rubbing my back soothingly. "Well, you should probably have a warm bath and go to bed. You know how badly they can affect you."

Jake, you are the sweetest man on the planet. Why can't I love you?

He kissed me on the forehead and walked to the door, adjusting the bulge in his pants as he opened it.

"Jake, I'm sorry," I said, apologizing for myself more than the situation, as usual.

His face lit up with a dazzling smile. "Don't worry about it," he said lightly. "I still have those pictures of you at the beach last summer. I'm sure I can put them to good use."

I hugged him tightly, suddenly overwhelmed with remorse for my inability to be the person he deserved me to be.

"I'll call you tomorrow?" I asked, kissing him on the cheek.

"Sure," he replied, waving as I closed the door behind him.

I leaned back against the hard wood and closed my eyes as I listened to his car pull away.

I can't keep treating him like this. He deserves better.


I'll get through Halloween and then I'll end it - break his heart and give him space to heal.

He doesn't need me in his life. He needs someone amazing who can appreciate him and love him for the person he is, and then, maybe in a few years, we can be friends again. I should have never agreed to be anything more. It was stupid and unfair.

I sighed as the sound of his car faded in the distance.

I felt dirty.

A warm bath sounded good, but there was something I had to do first.

I opened the door and walked outside, sniffing the air in the vain hope of inhaling a hint of cinnamon floating on the breeze. Instead it smelled of moss and dirt and green.

It didn't matter. He was out there. I was sure of it.

I could feel him.

I started walking forward, drawn by an invisible thread of energy that tugged at my chest.

I entered the forest, holding my hands out in front of me as I stumbled into the thick blackness, chasing a man who could very well be dangerous and disturbed, and yet unable to stop myself from seeking him out.

As I walked further away from my house, the percussive music of the woods enveloped me, my crunching footfalls echoing in disjointed rhythms. The bright spark on my skin and churning excitement in my gut told me I was headed in the right direction as I lurched forward with blind confidence.

I stumbled and fell, a sharp twig puncturing my palm as I cried out. The thick sting of fresh blood oozed out of my hand and I licked it gingerly, trying to soothe the quiet burn.

Suddenly, the night-noises stopped, and a dense silence settled around me.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood up as I heard a low, animalistic growl echo in the stillness.

He was here.

I stopped and inhaled deeply.

I could smell him. The faintest hint of sweetness in the air.

Prickles of fear and anticipation stalked across my skin.

"I know you're there," I called in a tremulous voice.

The eerie silence answered me. No birdsong. No insect noises. Nothing.

"I know you're real. I saw you."

My own ragged breathing roared in my ears as I turned in a circle, scanning the shadows.

My fear was giving way to frustration.

Why the hell wasn't he answering me?

"You've got a hell of a nerve coming into my bedroom like that," I said into the darkness. "My father is the fucking Chief of Police in case you didn't know."

A low chuckle rumbled out of the blackness.

"As if he could stop me."

My head whipped around, trying to find out where he was.

"Who are you?"

I felt like I was talking to smoke, his voice suddenly wafting over to me from a completely different direction.

"You don't want to know," he replied, a hint of sadness in his voice.

"I do want to know," I said softly, "I've never wanted to know something so much in my life."

A light breeze ruffled my hair and I heard him inhale loudly.

"If you knew who I was, Isabella, you would run screaming back to your father and pray to God I never came near you again."

I jutted my jaw defiantly. "You obviously don't know me very well. I don't scare that easily."

"Oh, I know you, Isabella," he said confidently, "I know you better than you know yourself."

A shudder ran up my spine. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

He sighed.

"Do you know how long I've been waiting for you?" he asked, his voice colliding with my body and setting it on fire, "How many years I've longed for you?"

I closed my eyes as his words caressed me.

"Tell me," I whispered, desperate to hear him talk. Desperate to know everything about him.

"I've been fantasizing about you for decades, Isabella, dreaming about you, certain that the very idea of you was a myth. That was before you moved here to live with your father, before I saw you for the first time... before I smelled you."

I swallowed hard. His words were hypnotizing and confusing me. There was something very wrong about what he was implying but all I could think about was knowing more.

"Where did you see me?"

"In the mountains. You were hiking with your idiot boyfriend." His voice was low, creeping towards me on the scent of pine-needles. "You came across a meadow and stopped for lunch. My meadow. The one place that calms me."

I remembered the day Jake and I found the meadow. From the moment we stepped into it I had felt a strange sense of familiarity, like I had lived a hundred lifetimes there. We'dd eaten lunch and I felt a strange energy simmering in my body. I'd had no idea what it was but it thrilled me so much that when Jake started kissing me, I hadn't pushed him away. We had frantic sex in the middle of the meadow, grunting and sweaty and fast. As usual with Jake, I didn't orgasm, but as the strange electricity crackled beneath my skin, I came closer than I ever had before.

"You were there?" I asked incredulously.




"Watching as Jake and I..."

"Yes, Isabella."

I tried to steady my breathing. I was completely unsuccessful.

"I watched as you rode your boyfriend with wild abandon... your hair untamed... your body glistening in the sun."

A blast of desire rocketed through me, making me dizzy with lust. His lust.

"You were magnificent. You mesmerized me."

My held my breath as I listened to him talk about me, his voice dripping with reverence and desire.

"Isabella, I'd never been so aroused in all of my existence... and then your scent... dear God, your scent wafted over me, and it took all my strength not to rip you away from your unworthy man-child and claim you as mine. I stood there, trembling with overwhelming need, infuriated that my years cultivating supreme control over my base desires were suddenly and irrevocably shattered by a single human girl."

The word 'human' echoed disturbingly in the darkness.

"Eventually I couldn't endure it any more. I ran for miles until the uncontrollable lust you caused me abated."

Terrifying images bombarded my brain as he spoke, my mouth watered and my hands itched, eager for attention, for sensation, for release. I breathed through the flood of emotions, refocusing my attention on him.

"What were you doing there?"


"It's wasn't hunting season."

He laughed sarcastically.

"Every season is hunting season for me, Isabella."

His words thrilled and confused me. I tensed my legs to keep myself upright as my heart thudded uncomfortably in my chest.

"Lord... that sound," he rasped. "That sound makes me want to do unspeakable things to you, Isabella. Do you realize that?"

My mind raced. "What sound?"

He paused, and when he spoke again his voice was heavy with need. "Your heartbeat."

My logic knew that there was no way he could hear my heartbeat, but my instincts told me otherwise.

"The way is sounds right now is exactly how it sounds when my hands are on your body - strong and pendulous and wet."

My heart pounded harder as his voice darkened. I was vaguely aware of the tingling ache in my damaged hand. I touched the wound with my fingers, pressing down on the congealing blood.

"You're hurt," he said, his voice closer now.

"I'm fine."

"You're bleeding."

Closer still.

"It's nothing."

He laughed derisively.

"Only someone who took their remarkable blood for granted would think nothing of it spilling uselessly out of them, Isabella. Just like the foolish boy who frittered away his life in a million different places until he woke one morning to find that what he had been so reluctant to protect had been savagely ripped from him."

I looked in the direction of his voice but saw nothing.

"I don't understand," I said to the swaying shadows.

"Good," he said firmly. "You shouldn't."

I swallowed as I prepared to ask the question I wasn't sure I wanted the answer to.

"How long have you been coming into my bedroom?"


I whipped my head around, searching for any sign of him. There was none.

A whisper of breeze brushed my throat and I jumped when he spoke right next to my ear.

"Don't turn around," he ordered.

I clenched my jaw as I resisted the overwhelming urge to turn my head slightly and look at the face that housed the remarkable amber eyes I'd seen earlier tonight, but I knew without a doubt that if I did, he'd disappear.

"The first night I came to your window was the day I saw you in the meadow," he said softly, his cool breath invading my senses. "Your scent led me there – pungent and distinctive – chaining me to you like I was your slave, making me grateful for every sweet breath that tumbled out of your lungs as you slept... for every tiny moan and sigh as you dreamed."

I almost gasped, "But that was four months ago."

A single lustrous finger trailed up my arm. A rush of air burst into my lungs, loud and unexpected.

"Three months, twenty-seven days, and eight hours, actually."

His finger continued its meandering journey, filling every cell it touched with longing and desire.

"At first I was content to watch you - to sit outside your window and listen as you slumbered - but after a while, that wasn't enough. I needed to be closer – to be infused by you and surrounded by your intoxicating scent. The first night I crawled through your window, I was devastated by your smell. Every fiber of fabric, every piece of furniture, was saturated with your mouth-watering perfume. It was more powerful than anything I'd ever experienced. It pummeled me like a battering-ram, perfecting me and shredding me at the same time. Demolishing every notion I'd had about myself - disassembling the carefully constructed bricks and mortar of my pointless existence in a single pulverizing blow."

Another finger joined in his torturous trek, brushing the warm kindling of my skin with the smooth flint of his, raining licks of fire upon my desperate body.

"I knew then that you had doomed me. Without even knowing it, you had broken the cast-iron will I had been cultivating for innumerable years. My solitude was my armor, and in one fell swoop you'd ripped it from me."

His fingers reached my throat, coming to rest on the violent throbbing of my pulse.

"I hated you in that moment," he seethed. "I hated you for shackling me to the desires and needs I'd thought myself rid of. I hated you for re-awakening parts of myself I'd assumed were long dead, and most of all, I hated you for being completely oblivious to the hell you were subjecting me to while you lived your finite life with your mundane boyfriend."

His fingers brushed my hair away from my neck and I gasped as I felt his icy lips kiss my shoulder. His lips lingered for a few seconds and he inhaled sharply before he removed them.

"The nights when you deemed your barbarian worthy of invading your body were the most difficult. I had to sit there and watch as he bumbled his way around your incredible anatomy, completely ignorant as to how to please you. I felt your frustration with him. It rolled off you. It sickened me and made me want to rip his heart out and feast on it. But instead, I watched - flagellating myself with your resentment, letting it feed the growing collection of fantasies I allowed myself about you."

His hand snaked around my waist, laying flat on my stomach as he pulled me back into him.

Oh, God. He was hard. Abnormally hard. Hard and long.

My body exploded with hunger, craving the delicious arousal that was pressing into my ass.

Unable to stop myself I pushed back into him, circling my hips, forcing a strangled groan to ripple out of him.

"Stop," he ordered, gripping me like a vice and stilling my movement. "Isabella, your scent is so strong... so gut-wrenchingly enticing, that you do not want to be doing anything at the moment that challenges my control."

He drew in a huge breath and exhaled slowly, loosening his hands slightly in the process. "You have no idea what a dangerous game you're playing here, Isabella. If you did, you wouldn't be so blasé about risking your life. Did you even consider the consequences of plunging into the woods alone this evening? Did you think for one second that the man who has been stalking you while you sleep may not be the type of person you should pursue... or be alone with... or rub up against?"

His nose ran across my jugular, making my skin flutter under the swirls of his cool air before moaning into my neck.

"Did you even consider the possibility that I'm a bad man, Isabella? That I've done vicious, heinous things in my life? That I've destroyed more lives that I can bear to recall? Did none of those things cross your mind before you stumbled into the darkness to find me?"

"You won't hurt me," I said breathlessly, trying to ignore the vicious burn that blazed everywhere his body contacted mine.

"You don't know that," he whispered. "You can't possibly comprehend how delicately your life hangs in the balance whenever you're near me. If you did, you wouldn't still be here."

His hand was cool and hard on my stomach, and I placed my hand over his, rubbing it gently. As soon as I made contact with his skin he tensed, a sharp intake of air hissing in my ear.

"I trust you," I said carefully, sensing that he was dangerous, but somehow certain I was safe. "You've been coming into my room for months. If you'd wanted to hurt me you could have – many times. You didn't."

His other hand trailed up my thigh, coming to rest on the moist warmth between my legs.

"That doesn't mean you're safe with me, Isabella, or that I should continue my utter stupidity in allowing myself to the luxury of seeing you. Every second you're with me is a struggle... every touch, a test. If I stop monitoring my urges, even for a second, this situation between us could end very badly."

I reached around and touched his thigh, my unexpected movement causing him to flinch. I ran my fingers upward, lightly fingering the solid hardness of his erection through the taut fabric of his pants. He hissed loudly.

"I don't believe that would ever happen," I whispered.

A sudden, feral growl ripped through the darkness, and all the air rushed out of my lungs as I found myself pressed up again the rough bark of a large tree, his body crushing against my back, his face snarling against my flushed cheek.

"What do I have to do to convince you that you shouldn't trust me, Isabella?" he growled, grinding me roughly from behind. "Do I have to describe to you how many people I've murdered, ripping their throats out and feasting on them as their last drops of life ebbed into my mouth? Should I tell you about how every time I'm near you, the perverted, blood-thirsty monster inside me wants to drink you dry and then fuck your lifeless corpse? How does that sound, Isabella? Would thatbe enough to convince you not to trust me?"

I gasped in pain as his erection pressed into my back.

"You have NO idea what I'm capable of, Isabella. NONE. I'm not some nice guy who's going to show up with flowers and chocolates. I'm not going to recite poetry or whisk you away on my white horse. I'm a killer, Isabella... a monster... an abomination, and I have NO right being as selfish as I am and putting you in danger, because when I'm near you, my brain overloads with images of the things I want to do to you, and the things I'm DESPERATE to have you do to me, and not all of them are pretty, and it would take SO little for me to have a moment of weakness and for you to end up dead. So stop being so fucking naïve and start thinking about ways to bar your bedroom window against me, because if you don't, I'm afraid one night I won't be satisfied to only taste your skin, and on that night, you and I will both lose EVERYTHING."

With a grunt his weight disappeared, the cool hardness of his body replaced by the damp, evening air. I spun around, desperate to bring him back to my body that screamed blue murder at his absence, but he was like smoke in the shadows, and I couldn't find him.

My skin ached and my insides squirmed. The bright beacon on my skin was extinguished.

He was gone.


The next few nights crawled by. He didn't come, and therefore, neither did I.

Each night I lay in bed, nervously biting my nails and staring at the vacant, open window, and every night I fell into a fitful slumber, uninterrupted by cold hands and hot passion.

The nightmares I had been having recently returned in full force, filling me with images of flashing white and thick crimson, plunging huge shafts of guilt and self-loathing into me.

I knew the dreams were from him, that somehow the strange visceral empathy that seemed to connect us was responsible for the chilling visions. I knew they spoke of his past and his mind, and deep down I knew what he was, but my logical mind trapped the words behind my teeth and forbid me to say it.

I felt like a goddamn crazy person.

Here I was, sexually frustrated and desperate for him... a man - and I used that term loosely - who could kill me in a heartbeat. A man who hungered for me in a way that sent shivers up my spine... and yet, I craved him completely – body, mind, heart and soul – and it scared the living shit out of me. It was like the restless boredom that had been festering inside me my whole life was borne out of the absence of him. My constant vague yearning for something more was immediately satiated by him, and only him. The reason Jake and I didn't make sense when we absolutely should have was because Jake wasn't him.

By the time the night of the Halloween party came around, I was mess of conflicting thoughts and emotions. I tried so hard to be nice to Jake, considering I had planned this night to be our relationship swan-song, but my frustration and growing anger with the absence of the window-crawling fuck-monkey was boiling my blood from the inside.

So in typical Bitch-Bella style, when Jake arrived at my house with the costume he'd rented for me, my response was less than enthusiastic.

"Jake, you have got to be fucking kidding me."

He looked at the hanger he was holding in confusion. "What? You don't like it? I thought it looked sexy."

I snatched the hanger out of his hands and examined the low-cut blouse, the thigh-high fuck-me boots, the tiny red cape, and the belt that was trying to pass itself off as a skirt.

"Jake, I'm going to look like a goddamn hooker! Or at the very least like Paris Hilton."

Jake's face fell.


Swan, just turn off your bitch-switch, PLEASE. Just for tonight. You're not mad at Jake. You're mad at the sweet-smelling asshole who thinks it's acceptable to get you addicted to his unbelievable oral and finger-fucking skills only to turn and run like a pussy when he thinks things might be a bit too difficult.


I sighed and took Jake's hand. "I'm sorry, Jake, I'm just uptight. The costume's fine, really."

He looked at me dubiously. "Bells, you don't have to wear it if you hate it that much."

I gave him my best pretend-smile. "I don't hate it, it's just...different, that's all. But we're going to look kick-ass when we're both dressed up."

Jake's costume consisted of a sharp grey suit that had a top hat in the shape of a wolf's muzzle. I could imagine that it would look really great on him.

"Come on," I said lightly as I smiled, "let's go get dressed."

He grinned at me sheepishly as he grabbed his costume, and bounded up the steps like an overly-enthusiastic puppy.

Once upstairs Jake and I stripped off and placed our costumes on the bed. I stood there in my bra and thong, struggling to comprehend the fuckery of the lace up corset when I felt it – a slow burn that traveled across my breasts, making my heart rate speed up and my nipples harden.


He was out there, in the darkness, and he was watching me.

I walked over to the window and looked out into the silver-grey shadows. My breath became shallow and fast as I searched for his golden eyes, and even though I couldn't see them, I could feel them blazing over me as scorching trails of lust ran across my rapidly over-heating skin.

"I know you're out there," I whispered, absolutely certain that he could hear me. "I hope you like what you see."

I stared again, waiting to see if I got any response. Of course, I didn't.

The burning continued and the deep gaping ache inside me began to plead with me to seek him out so he could end the pain. Involuntarily, my hand grazed over my stomach, pressing lightly over my skin as I imagined my fingers to be his.

I nearly hit the roof when Jake touched my shoulder gently.

"Hey, Bells, are you okay?"

I spun around. Jake was naked except for his dark grey boxer briefs. His magnificent body flexed and glowed in the lamplight as he put his arms around me. My back lit up like a Christmas tree as I turned away from the window, and a rush of anger flew through me as I rubbed Jake's biceps with my hands.

"Hmmmm, that feels good, Bells," he murmured as his lips brushed across my neck.

I tried to ignore my flaming back as my hands traveled across Jake's body, determined to give my soon-to-be ex-boyfriend one last parting gift to make up for my complete failure to be a decent and loving girlfriend. I guess if I was being completely honest, I also wanted to torture lurker-boy and punish him for leaving me unfulfilled and completely frustrated for nearly a week.

If he wants to play games, I'm all in, and I'm taking no prisoners.

"Oh, God, Jake," I breathed mock-sexily, glancing over to the the billowing curtains, "Your body is incredible."

Can you hear this, window-crawler? Are you jealous? I fucking hope so.

Jake moaned softly and looked down at me as I stroked the planes of his chest and down his stomach. I could see that he was hard inside his boxers and I looked up at him, licking my lips in fake anticipation as I pulled the tight fabric down and released his erection.

"Oh, man... Bella, you are so freaking sexy."

Jake, I'm going to show the asshole in the darkness exactly what he's missing out on, and luckily for you, that involves me blowing your tiny mind.

I pulled him away from the window slightly and sank to my knees, being very careful to allow stalker-boy a top-class view of what was going to be an award-winning blow-job.

Jake's head lolled back as I licked him all over, slipping my lips over him and sucking firmly.

"Fuck, yes, Bells... yes, baby... that's incredible."

I slipped more of him into my mouth, grazing my teeth slightly over the rubber-silk skin.

Do you see this, finger-boy? Are you witnessing the mad skills you're missing out on?

I took Jake's entire length into my throat and glanced at the window as I sucked down hard.

"Holy shit, Bella, YES!"

I continued moving my mouth over him, feigning enjoyment as I brought him pleasure.

An unexplained wave of fury slammed into me and I knew exactly where it was coming from.

You don't like watching me with another man, do you golden-eyes? It drives you absolutely insane, doesn't it? Good.

Jake's hand wove through my hair and grabbed my head as I started moving faster. I could tell he was close. He started groaning like he was in pain.

"Oh... Jeez... Bella... God, yes, baby... I'm gonna come! I'm gonna come! I'M GONNA..."

Suddenly a mammoth crash rocked the house, followed by the persistent bleating of a car alarm. Jake grunted in frustration as I pulled away just before he came.

We both looked around frantically.

"What the hell was that noise?" he asked, shoving himself back into his boxers and yanking on his jeans. I grabbed my robe off the bed and wrapped it around me as we bounded down the stairs and out into the front yard.

Jake stopped short and made a pathetic whimpering sound as I reached him and followed his horrified gaze.

"What the FUCK?" he roared, his face a mass of confusion. I winced as I saw what he was seeing - his car, his pride and joy, his baby - completely flattened by the huge pine tree that usually stood proudly in my front yard. It looked like it had been yanked out of the ground and slammed viciously into the car's roof.

Jake groaned and looked like he was going to be sick.

"How the fuck did this even happen?" he cried, walking around his damaged baby and looking for all the world like a twelve year old kid who'd lost his favorite toy. "That tree was nowhere near my car! What the fuck is going on here?"

My head whipped around to the forest, my eyes narrowed with anger and disgust.

"You asshole," I said to the darkness.

"What?" Jake asked, hurt and confusion written all over his face. "Did you just call me an asshole?"

I walked over and hugged him.

"No, honey, I called the tree an asshole. I mean, really, what right did that damn tree have to smash your car? For God's sake, if the tree was so pathetically jealous that it needed to throw a tantrum like a two-year-old, then it should have smashed itself in the head, because it was obviously being an immature, covetous ass-hat."

Jake looked at me like he wanted to call the little men in the white coats to take me away.

"Bells, I have no idea what the hell you're talking about."

I grabbed his hand and dragged him inside.

"Don't worry about it, baby. Let's just get dressed and get the hell out of here. I suddenly think a night away from this place and its infuriating damn trees is just what I need.


Nearly an hour later Jake and I stepped through the doors to Port Angeles' hippest night club, as much of an oxymoron as that sounds.

Jake looked awesome in his costume – handsome and hot – and although I felt ass-twitchingly uncomfortable in my slutty Little Red Riding Whore outfit, by the looks I garnered from the male party-goers, I must have looked pretty hot too.

As we crossed the dance floor I noticed several women checking Jake out shamelessly. If I'd been a proper girlfriend I would have gotten irrationally jealous and scowled at them. As it was I felt an overwhelming need to yell at them, "Yes, ladies, he's tall, he's gorgeous, he has an ass you could bounce a quarter off of. One slightly damaged second-hand boyfriend. Snap him up quickly before someone else beats you to it!"

We immediately hooked up with a group of Jake's friends from La Push before hitting the bar for some hideous Halloween-themed cocktails.

The boys all made lewd remarks about my outfit but I was too pissed-off about the tree-incident to care.

I was on my third Zombie Brain-Licker when I felt a familiar burn prickle across my skin. I sucked in an involuntary gasp as my body exploded with lust and anger.

You have got to be fucking kidding me!

I looked around, desperately searching for him. Of course it would have been helpful if I'd had the first clue what he looked like, but I didn't. Instead I scanned the crowd of miscellaneous vampires and ghouls and ghosts, trying to control the massive crawling need that was engulfing me, dragging me to the point of frenzied desperation, making me crave a man I'd never even seen with obscene, debilitating desire.

Christ, I am so screwed.

I took a deep breath and tried to ignore the steel cable that had attached itself to my chest, trying to drag me to where he was, trying to force our bodies together and calm the savage gnawing inside me. The pull he had over me annoyed me, and I stubbornly refused let it control me.

Screw him. I'm here to have a good time and then break the heart of the man who loves me. He can go fuck himself for all I care.

I downed the rest of my drink and threw my arms around Jake.

"Are you having a good time, honey?" I slurred quietly.

He kissed me on the nose.


"Yes, Bells," he smiled back. "I'm having an awesome time."

"That's... just... awesome," I said, a sloppy smile meandering across my face.

"Bells, I think you might have had enough to drink now."

I waved my hand at him.

"Pfft. I've only had three," I protested, "I'm just getting started!"

Suddenly the room started spinning and I stumbled heavily against Jake's chest.

"Whoa, Bells, are you okay?"

My skin was prickling and hot, crawling over my muscles and making them throb.

It was him.

He was doing this to me.

I had to get out, get away from him and his magnetic presence.

"I'm fine," I slurred, steadying myself and putting my drink down on the table, "I think I just need some air."

"You want me to come with you?"

I shook my head, the lusty haze clearing some of my inebriation. "No... no. I'll be right back."

I lurched forward, pushing through the mass of bodies standing between me and the front door. My heart was pounding in my chest, and the air in the room suddenly felt thick and viscous, rasping through my lungs like molasses. I swiveled and turned, making slow progress as party-goers rocked and undulated around me, hands and lips and bodies moving in a kaleidoscope of music and lust.

I gasped as a strong arm snaked around my waist, pulling me back against clothed stone, cool air trickling down my neck.

"What the hell are you wearing, Isabella?" he seethed darkly. "Do you have any idea what that outfit is doing to the men in this room, including me?"

I struggled against his iron grip.

"But you're not exactly a man now, are you?" I hissed back.

The breath on my neck stopped.

"So you finally understand?"

I huffed in frustration.

"I understand that you haven't been to see me in days, and I understand that for some ridiculous reason I feel like I'm crawling out of my skin whenever you're not around, and I understand you're a giant asshole for doing what you did to Jake's car tonight. That was completely uncalled for."

"You had your mouth around another man's cock," he said, his hands starting to move over my body as he forced us to gently sway to the beat of the pounding music. "I'd say it was very called for."

"Why do you care whose cock my mouth is around? You have no claim on me. I don't even know your goddamn name!"

"I do have a claim on you, Isabella," he said, lifting my hands up and placing them at the back of his head.

My hands gripped soft hair, grasping at it fiercely as his fingers grazed down my arms and ribcage, stealing my breath, but not my outrage.

"You're mine," he said softly. "You've always been mine. From the moment you were born you've been mine. You're lucky I only broke your boyfriend's car tonight. I wanted to break so much more."

I tugged hard on my hair-filled fingers, smiling in satisfaction as his head fell back and he groaned thickly.

"It was my idea to suck Jake's dick tonight, not his. I wanted to make you jealous, and obviously, it worked. If you were going to damage anyone's car, it should have been mine."

"I've seen your truck, Isabella," he murmured, his voice wrapping me in a sexual thrall every bit as firmly as his arms wrapped around my body. "It's a piece of garbage. Do you honestly believe that by smashing it with a tree I could diminish its value any further?"

I flushed with anger.

"Did you just fucking insult my truck?" He chuckled into my ear and my blood blasted through my veins. "Who the FUCK do you think you are?"

"Edward," he said, the low rumble of tortured restraint coloring his voice as he buried his nose in my neck, his cool tongue lapping at the thundering pulse just below the surface.

"What?" I panted, pulling on his hair again, barely able to form a coherent thought as his tongue continued to unstitch my sanity, piece by excruciating piece.

"Edward is who the fuck I think I am."

His strong arms encased me, pulling me against him, molding my body to his – hard and soft, warm and cool, grasping darkness and hungry light.

My head dropped back onto his shoulder and I groaned.

"That's such an ordinary name for such a gargantuan prick," I sighed.

He ground his erection into me and I felt a low growl rumble through his chest and into my back, making my body scream with frustration and desire and absolute wanton need.

"Actually my gargantuan prick has a different name. Remind me to introduce you two later."

Oh, Jesus.

This man was making me feel things I never had before. His touch was like white ice and black magic, transforming my body into a mess of raging, ravenous need.

His hands traveled up to my breasts, cupping them roughly as his fingers squeezed my nipples.

"I need to see your face," I ordered breathlessly.



"Isabella, I'm not a dog you can order around like you do your boyfriend. I will not be dictated to."

His mouth came down on my neck and a prickle of fear shot through me, arousing me even further if that's freaking possible.

"Then walk away," I challenged, trying to keep my voice even as I attempted to pull his hands away from my body. "I'm not going to let someone whose face I haven't even seen continue to touch me like this."

He tightened his grip around me as I bucked and squirmed.

"You had no complaints when you thought I wasn't real."

"Yeah, well now I know you are real, so stop being such a goddamn coward and show me your face!"

He squeezed me tightly, pushing the air out of my lungs and causing me to go limp against him.

"Why is it so damn important to you?" he seethed.

"Because I want to know who you are," I countered, gasping as he loosened his arms and let me breathe. "You come into my life like a phantom, making me feel things I didn't know existed, filling me with desires I didn't know I had, and generally mind-fucking me so much that all I can think about is you and your body and the way you make we want an impossible forever. " He gasped in my ear and his arms tightened again. "You say that I'm yours?" I wheezed feebly. "Prove it. Show me the face of the man I supposedly belong to."

His hands stilled, loosening but not letting me go.

A low rumble of desire echoed in his chest as his nose traced my jugular.

"Isabella," he moaned, his voice sounding like pleasure and pain and damnation and salvation, "You smell so good when you get angry."

"Oh yeah?" I challenged, "Then I must smell fan-fucking-tastic at the moment because you're really pissing me off!"

My head flew back as his tongue swept across my throat, charting a trail from my collar-bone to my ear.

"You want to see my face?" he moaned. "The face of the man whose primary desire is to devour you and taste your blood? The man who constantly fantasizes about killing you... or fucking you... or fucking you and then killing you? You're so desperate to see that face, Isabella?"

"Yes," I pleaded, "Please..."

Suddenly he spun me around and I was confronted with his blazing amber eyes.

"Here's my face, Isabella," he snarled. "The face of a murderer. Does it please you?"

My breath stopped. My heart constricted painfully. Every molecule in my body exploded in a nuclear cloud of astonishment, and perfection, and mine.

He was beautiful. Heart stoppingly beautiful. Magnificent and masculine and flawless. My eyes raked his unbearable perfection, my heart thudding violently as my panting breaths rasped through my shallow lungs.

"Yes, your face pleases me," I breathed, grabbing his head and pulling it down, finally covering his lips with my own, thrilling unbelievably when he kissed me back, hungrily, his hands and lips and tongue frantically searching for me, finding me, and making me his. His hands framed my face as he groaned and thrust his cool, delicious tongue into my mouth, claiming and owning me.

"You belong to me, Isabella," he panted, "always. No other man will ever touch you again."

I launched myself at his neck, sucking his smooth skin, getting drunk on his smell and taste, becoming feral with the raw, undiluted passion he drew out of me.

"I'm yours," I moaned. "I've never been anyone else's."

Suddenly I felt cool air on my ass as he ripped off my panties. Embarrassment and desire flooded my body in equal measure as I felt his hand push between my legs, gently pressing his cold fingers against my moist, blazing flesh.

"This," he said roughly, "is mine too, and I intend to claim it."

His hand started moving, rubbing and teasing me as I squirmed and stepped my legs further apart.

"We can't do this. We're in the middle of a dance floor," I moaned as he stroked me with sure fingers.

"Of course we can," he countered in a low desperate voice. "Now, unzip my pants, Isabella, and feel exactly how much you affect me."

My hands fumbled at his zipper as he continued to drive me insane. I shoved the annoying fabric of his pants aside as I wrapped my hand around his inhumanly hard length.

"Oh, God... yes, Isabella. Do you feel that? That's yours. Only yours."

I stroked him roughly, panting and desperate as he closed his beautiful eyes in pleasure.

I was vaguely aware of the crowd pulsating around us, and I didn't want to be. I wanted him, alone, inside me, filling the hungry ache that was violently demanding to be sated.

He must have felt the same way because before I could register what was happening, we were barreling through the crowd, me clinging to his hard, chiseled body as we moved quickly behind the vacant stage. It was dark and deserted, and faster than humanly possible he pressed me up against a dusty wall.

"Isabella, I need to have you," he growled, "but this could be very dangerous for you."

"I don't care," I panted grasping his erection again and gripping it fiercely. "I need you. I need you as much as air, or blood. I need you inside me, please."

He clenched his jaw in concentration as he wrapped my legs around him and positioned himself, holding me above him, shuddering with the effort of not taking me.

I didn't want him to deny himself. I wanted the look of pained restraint to leave his beautiful face. I wanted to feel every inch of his hard, magnificent body joined with mine.

I couldn't bear to be apart from him any longer.

"Now, Edward," I whimpered. "Please."

His gaze locked on mine, a look of absolute desperation and fear settling on his face.

"I know I shouldn't," he rasped as he looked into my eyes, "but God forgive me... I can't help myself."

His eyes blazed into mine as he inched into me, slowly.

Oh, God.

My body stretched and sighed around him, the gasping ache gradually filled by his cool hardness.

"Isabella," he groaned as he pushed in further. "Ohhhhh, God... so warm... so very warm."

He squeezed his eyes shut as he finally sheathed himself in me.

"Am I hurting you?" he whispered as he started moving slowly, his golden eyes burning with restrained desperation.

"Uh... no. You feel incredible."

He moved slowly, cautiously, touching me as though I was fine crystal. I gripped his hair roughly and pulled, desperately trying to release the passion I knew he was holding back.

"Edward," I rasped as his eyes found mine, "you know how to please me. You've been doing it for months. Stop being so damn careful. I'm not as fragile as you think."

"You don't understand," he groaned, "I could break you. Kill you. I would be so easy."

I grabbed his face and forced him to look at me.

"You won't. Please. I need more."

The fear didn't leave his eyes completely but it was joined by primal need, and he snarled and ripped my blouse open, clamping his eager mouth over my nipple as his thrusts became more confident.

"Isabella... I can smell you, and taste you, and feel you. I've never experienced anything like it."

I gripped his wide shoulders and forced myself down onto him, crying out as we moved against each other. I gasped as I felt the inevitable tightening inside me, bright blooms of light bursting behind my eyes. My muscles gripped him as he slid in and out, aching each time he retreated and rejoicing each time he thrust himself home.

A low, animalistic growl ripped from his chest as he plunged into me, again and again, grunting and panting as desperately as I was.

"Isabella... yes... Isabella," he chanted with each thrust, owning my body more and more with every passing second. "God, I never knew... I never knew I could feel like this."

Sparks started flickering inside me as my orgasm started its final ascent, fiery blossoms of sensation coiling ever tighter, grasping at him as my muscles expanded and contracted in mind-blowing pleasure.

"Tell me, Isabella," he ordered, breathing hard and looking intensely into my eyes. "Tell me you're mine."

"I'm yours," I moaned.

His eyes blazed as I tightened around him. "Again."

"I'm yours."

I closed my eyes as I felt myself start to unravel.

"Look at me," he ordered.

My eyes found his as the unbearable tightness exploded in excruciating release.


"GOD, EDWARD, I'M YOURS!" I screamed as I came apart around him, clenching and spasming, surrendering to wave after wave of crashing pleasure, knowing that I would never experience this with any other man for the rest of my life and absolutely content with that knowledge.

I heard a feral moan and watched in rapt fascination as his face crumbled with ecstasy.

"Oh... God, ISABELLA! YES!"

He bellowed my name as he thrust one final time, his face a masterpiece of euphoria and satisfaction, his cock burying itself inside me as he shuddered and groaned through his orgasm.

We clung to each other desperately; panting and perfect and bone-meltingly satisfied.

His mouth found mine and he kissed me deeply, claiming my mouth as he'd just claimed my body, ruining it for any other man.

He leaned his forehead on mine, rubbing gently.

I ran my fingers through his hair, tracing them down, across his spectacular jaw and over his perfect lips.

"You're breaking up with your boyfriend tonight, aren't you, Isabella?" he demanded quietly.


"You're going to let me do this to you every day for the rest of your existence, aren't you, Isabella?"


"You're going to let me buy you a new car to replace that piece of shit death-trap you're currently driving around, aren't you, Isabella?"

I grasped his hair and pulled his head back roughly.

"Don't push your luck, vamp-boy."

He groaned as I watched his eyes darken and smolder.

"You are in so much trouble now, woman," he growled, circling his hips slowly as I felt him harden inside me.

Oh, dear Lord.

"Again?" I whimpered as my body rejoiced around him.

"Again," he grunted, grabbing my ass and making me moan. "Happy Halloween, Isabella."

He rocked me above him, each deep thrust filling me with joy, and completion, and future.

"Oh, God, Edward...yes."

I threw my head back as his hungry mouth devoured my throat.

Oh, Jesus.

Happy Halloween, indeed.




Author Notes


Um...well...I hope you found

A very Happy Halloween to all my incredible readers. I truly heart you all so hard it hurts.

I'd love to hear your thoughts on this new fic, so if you get a chance, please hit the review button and let me know what you think.

Love you all,

Kiya x