Edward stood at attention, arms behind his straightened back, much like a ship's captain. Bella vexed him from across the room like a lighthouse, her warmth pulling him in.

Oh and how he wished she hadn't come!

After their last meeting he hadn't expected her to return. He's learning very quickly that this girl rarely does what he'd expect. He'd decided if she were reckless enough to show up, he would save her from herself. He would do as she asked. He would simply sketch her and send her on her way.

But with those marvelous breasts thrusting out at him, he was forced to recognize the mistake in his calculations.

When he was in her presence, he simply couldn't resist.

Well, he'd warned her, hadn't he? He'd explicitly spelled out his intent. He was only human, after all, and he wasn't about to refuse what she was so willing to give.

She was wearing a drab, gray dress—she looked more like a missionary than a beautiful young woman.

"I hate seeing you in gray and white. It washes out your facial color."

"I know, but the outfit matched the excuse I devised to escape the house all day."

"Which was?"

"Charity work. It was the only lie I could concoct on such short notice."

He nodded, impatient to have the offending clothes off.

"Let's start with your hair."

Her long mahogany locks were twisted and fastened at the nape of her neck. Bella briskly began to pull her hair free until her tresses were loose and wavy down her back.

"Shake it out, run your fingers through it."

Keeping his eyes glued to her, he took a sip of wine.

"Your gown. Unfasten the top button. Slowly. I like to watch, it arouses me."
Not accustomed to his sexual banter, she blushed and then started slowly unfastening her gown. When she freed the first button she paused and looked up at him.

"The next, if you please."

The second fell away.
"You're not wearing a corset are you?"

She shook her head. He hadn't needed to ask. The flow and sway of her breasts jolted him, making his cock awaken and harden.
"I've never gone without one before...it feels strange."

In light of her upbringing it was an extreme feat of audacity and courage to leave off her corset. That she would have left it off to please him was thrilling. With the simple act of leaving off an undergarment, she'd showed her unconditional trust in him—misplaced though it might be.

He walked to her.


The third button fell free and he shoved the sides of her gown aside, exposing her bosom. A chemise covered her two gorgeous breasts and he slipped his hand under it, caressing and fondling her.

"When you were here on Saturday, I loved kissing your breasts...you reveled in it," he admitted to her, massaging more thoroughly.

"You know I did."

"I want to kiss you here again. You'll let me, won't you?"

"That's why I'm here."

"Have you been aching for me?"

"Yes, but I'm not about to say how much. You're well aware of your devastating effect on women. You hardly need your vanity stroked by me."

He'd pined for her too, though he'd never admit it.

She stared up at him with those rich, brown, doe eyes, beseeching him to be kind, to progress gradually, but he couldn't slow. If he relented his pace he'd be holding her in his arms, cherishing and comforting her in a fashion that was perilous to his freedom.

He couldn't allow her to burrow any further under his skin.

"Finish with the buttons."

He distracted himself with his wine.

The undergarment was dreary and functional but it hugged every delectable inch of her breasts, leaving nothing to the imagination.

"Very nice," he murmured.

He circled around her, like a predator assessing their prey, studying her form. At her rear he moved close. His closeness made her nervous and she tried to gaze at him over her shoulder.
"Don't turn around."

He leaned in, his front flattened to her back, his phallus against her ass. From his angle her breasts were magnificent. They protruded from her chest, the nipples jutting out. He nipped her neck and she tipped her head, providing unlimited access. He gripped her hips and pulled her shapely bottom into his raging member.

"Did you think about what we did? How we kissed? How I suckled at your breast?"

"Every minute. I was in agony, you cad!"

"In your suffering, were you dreaming that I was with you so that I might do it over and over again?"

"I confess...since meeting you, I've become an absolute wanton."

Chuckling, he ventured around her so he was facing her. He her urged her backward toward the sofa.

"Sit for me."

"Are we going to—"

"Not yet. I simply want to draw you."

Hearing this, she relaxed onto the pillows.

They had all day. And he planned to prolong the pleasure, so that when he actually progressed they would both be burning with unfulfilled passion. Drawing her would slow the momentum, would ease her into nudity, and give him something to do besides pounce on her like a wild mountain lion. He'd also have a stack of erotic pictures after she'd left, an added bonus.

He arranged her, tilting her chin up so she appeared haughty and unobtainable.

"Lower the strap on your chemise."

She moved it the slightest inch.


She tried again, but still not enough. He intervened and jerked it to her elbow swiftly revealing most of her breast. The rim of her areola was visible, the edge of the bodice precariously balanced on her pert nipple.

"Much better. Wet your lips."

She stroked her tongue over her lush bottom lip, a gesture so carnal he felt it clear to the tip of his cock.

"What a vixen you are."

"How? I am not trying to be."

"You don't have to do anything special. You are tempting just as you are. When I look at you, I want to make you mine. In every way that counts with a man."

"Will I—" she stopped.

When she couldn't finish her question, he asked for her, "Will you please me?"


"Without a doubt. Now don't move. I need to capture your essence."

Desperate to record the provocative pose, he frantically started to draw, each sketch more suggestive than the last. She was sexy, rumpled—an innocent enchantress.
Eager to see more of her, he yanked at the chemise so that it dipped below her nipple, unveiling her perfect breast. Her nipple hardened even more.

"Would you like me to kiss your breast?"

"Please, Edward—" she begged.

"Not yet. Take your breast in your hand. Squeeze your nipple."

"I couldn't!"

"I insist."

Tentatively, she caressed herself for what, he was positive, was the first time.

"With more pressure...and rotate your finger and thumb to increase the sensation."

"I don't like how it makes me feel."

"How is that?"

"Unsettled…out of control."

"Look down. Watch what you're doing to yourself."

Her eyes lowered, slowly. The sight of herself made her hand still.

"It's quite enticing isn't it? A woman's breast. I hadn't ever realized it."

"Yours are particularly exquisite."

He shifted her hands so that she was cupping her mound. He drew her quickly, thoroughly depicting her sensuality.

He pitched his supplies on the floor, and then hauled her off the pillows so she was standing before him. Gripping her chemise, he took it off then clutched her buttocks and kneeled down, inhaling and nuzzling her cleavage. He wouldn't allow himself to suckle at her breast. He wanted the tension to mount until neither of them could tolerate any delay.

"Remove your dress."

"What? I thought you only wanted to see my breasts."

"I have, and now I'm inclined to see the rest of you."

"That seems too much."

"You promised to do whatever I asked."

"Yes, but I didn't grasp that you proposed to...to..."

"To what? Corrupt you? Debauch you?"

He was behaving badly, giving her no time to adapt or acclimate herself to his aggressiveness. He couldn't help it. He was anxious to move forward, to us her in every despicable manner.

"If I agree...what do you intend?"

"What do you think? I'll draw you naked."

He knelt down pressing his face into her smooth flat stomach.

"When I'm finished I'll be extremely aroused...so I'll fondle you here," he slide his hands up to cup her breasts and back down to her waist over her mound, "and kiss you here."

Her head fell back and she moaned, "Why are you handling me like that? Why is it so incredible–and so sinfully awful at the same time?"

"It's your pleasure center. I'm going to relieve some of the bodily anguish you've been enduring." He replaced his hand with his mouth and breathed through the fabric of her skirt. "That's what you expect from me isn't it?"

He slid his hands upward, pulling at her taut nipples.

"You don't play fair," she sighed.

"Never." He smirked up at her and chuckled, his bronze hair falling into his emerald eyes. "Let me do this for you. I promise you will enjoy it."
His hand rested on her waist, waiting for her submission. She nodded and her face flushed crimson again.

A row of tiny buttons descended down her body and she slowly unlatched them. Finally as the last button detached she held the billowing skirt at her waist.

"Let it fall to the floor."

She hissed, "I'm not wearing anything underneath."

"I'm so glad."

Exasperated, she took a deep gulp of air as if she was going to jump into a pool of water and let her fingers open, the gown slipping between them, falling to the ground.

He started from the bottom, staring at her soft, leather clad feet, her white stockings and frilly garters tied at her knees. Her thighs were sleek and smooth, and nestled perfectly between them, her beautiful virginal pussy, covered by soft curls.

He couldn't resist parting her, sliding a thumb into her slick crevice, already dripping with want.

He groaned, "You are so wet for me."


He withdrew his thumb, cupping her mound instead.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm caressing you as a man caresses a woman. I'm making love to you with my hand."

"It feels...terrible."

He chuckled again. "Liar." He smiled as he felt her hips being to move against his hand.

"I'm helping you toward the end."

"What end?" she whined. "Stop tormenting me!"


His suspicions—that she'd never brought herself to orgasm—were correct.

"But how?"

"I'll show you."

He pressed her back into the sofa. Feeling exposed, her modesty inclined her to cover herself, a forearm over her breasts, the other across her lap. He pried them away, laying them at her sides.

"I want to look at you."

"This is so embarrassing."

"No it's not, Bella."

Aroused beyond comprehension, his phallus was raging with need, for immediate relief.

"Anything...everything...is allowed when we're here alone. Remember that."
He slipped off her shoes, leaving on her stockings and garters. He grasped her ankles and raised her knees so she was curled into an alluring ball. Up until this moment, he'd truly meant to draw her this way, naked and open. But having her displayed before him, so needy, his artistic intentions flew out the window.

He spread her, opening her so he had a perfect view of her core. Her lips parted, her pink pussy winked at him from behind the wall of her curls. She was slick and glistening, ready for his male attention. He kissed her ankle, her knee, up to her thigh. He nibbled at her inner thigh and she went rigid, trying to close her legs, but he stayed between them pressing her open.

"You can't go much higher…can you?" she whispered.

"Of course I can."

"You're not going to...to..."

"Absolutely, I am. Lie back. Shut your eyes."

He neared his target and her whole body tensed up. "Edward! Let me up!"


He slid up her torso until his gaze met hers. "You trust me, don't' you?"

"No. I most certainly do not!"

He laughed, long and loud.

"I'm overcome by desire, and I'm beyond caring about what you want. That's a man's tendency. That's why you shouldn't offer yourself unless you're prepared to follow through."

"I'm scared."

"Of what?"

"Of what I don't know."

If he were a gentleman, he'd have slowed. Unfortunately for her, he'd never been a gentleman, and his masculine drives were demanding to be satisfied.

"I informed you of the consequences if you visited today. I wasn't joking." Gently he added, "Try to relax."

He widened her, then eased down and burrowed into her pussy, flicking at her with his tongue. Lapping at her succulent wet folds, he delved farther inside, thrusting and prodding at her until her hips began to jump and flex against his seeking mouth.

"Yes, love, " he encouraged, "that's it."

"What's happening? I don't like this. It makes me oh…I can't describe it."

"It's your passion rising. You're struggling toward a peak of gratification. I'll lead you to it."

He wound his hands under her legs, flinging them over his shoulders, while he reached up and found her breasts. He kneaded her nipples, while licking and suckling at her core. She strained toward release, and he toiled to give her what she craved. He sucked her clit, the nub swelling and throbbing on his tongue. With each stroke of his tongue she stiffened and gasped.

"You're there, love. Let go."

"I can't."

"Yes you can. Do it for me."

He latched onto her clit, sucking hard while he tweaked her nipples, and her body hurled to where she needed to be. With a cry, she vaulted into a powerful orgasm.
Lurching and bucking, she battled to escape his clutches and the overload of sensations. But he wasn't letting up. He held her down, riding out the orgasm with her.
She soared and gradually floated back to earth, and he was there beside her. He abandoned his perch between her legs and kissed a path up her body, glistening with sweat. He was holding her and kissing her, letting her taste the salty tang of her sex on his lips and tongue.

Seeing her fall apart in his arms, so full of pleasure and desire, something in the middle of his chest reeled and spasmed, and it dawned on him that it must be his heart. The ice in which it had been perpetually encased was melting, sensation returning, and it was painful.

What he'd fought against for so long, what he'd shunned and eluded. What he'd sworn would never happen, was starting to occur: he was becoming absurdly, senselessly attached to her. The tentacles of connection were extending, rooting themselves inside his heart, and binding them so tightly that there could never be separation.

There'd never be anything more between them than sexual trysts. They'd never marry or have a family. Even if Isabella were the love of his life, her father would never consent her to marry him—a bastard, a philandering artist, a known user of women—hardly the sort of man that would be allowed to marry the daughter of an Earl.

Shaking himself, he stumbled back to reality. He was behaving like a fool. The woman had had an orgasm, nothing more, nothing less, and he needed to maintain his perspective. He shifted away from her and sat up, straightening his clothes and hair. He fussed with his pants, trying to conceal his engorged member, the rod pressed tightly against his pants.

He'd originally planned to fuck her relentlessly, but he'd grown too close to her now. He needed to keep his wits about him. Determined to regain control he gathered his paper and pencils and sat at the stool to begin his sketch.
He glanced up at her. "Could you scoot up on the pillows? With you slouched like that, I don't have enough light."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Why?"

Her head was whirling, her body drumming with stimulation that was just beginning to wane. Bella sat up and glared at Edward, he was staring at her as if she committed a huge sexual gaffe. Just a moment ago he was holding her close and whispering soothing words of love, now he was distant, aloof, acting as if he hardly knew her and couldn't fathom how she'd come to be nude and on a sofa in the middle of his studio.

Suddenly disturbed, she couldn't help but wonder if the peak to which she'd reached had terminated her chastity and because of that, he was finished with her. For her entire life she'd been told that men despised defiled women. He'd gotten what he wanted, and now in the fickle way of men everywhere, he'd ceased to be interested in her.

"Am I still a virgin?"

"Yes, of course you are."

"So when I...I didn't...you weren't..."

She had no idea how to ask such a question. She wasn't sure what virginity entailed, or how it was surrendered.

"Don't worry. Your virtue remains intact."

When they'd been the throes of passion, she'd felt beautiful and adored, but with him detached and being so haughty she simply felt naked and foolish.

She was starting to feel cold, exposed and on display and didn't want to be. She searched for something to cover herself but found nothing. She stood, meaning to stomp over and retrieve her cloak.

"What are you doing?" Edward asked, surprised.

"I want my clothes."

"Well, I'm ready to draw you again. Sit down."

"I'm sorry, but I'm not in the mood for posing. And I'm freezing."

He was sitting so closely to the sofa she couldn't move around him. She couldn't escape. Arrogantly, he settled a hand on her waist and eased her down, and she was somewhat grateful, her legs felt shaky and unsteady.

"Stay there," he commanded.

He marched to the back room and returned with a gauzy strip of red fabric. He fluffed and fussed with it, adjusting to so it shielded her privates but nothing more. Irritated, she yanked it away from him and fully covered herself, erasing his positioning with a simple flick of her wrist.

"Isabella! I had you arranged!"

"I don't plan to lie about while you're looking at me like that!"

"Like what?"

"Like you've never seen me before…like you're angry with me." She gulped down her tears. How could he jump from devoted lover to reserved artist in the blink of an eye?

"What have I done to upset you?"


"Then why are you acting like this?"

"Like what?"

"Don't be obtuse; it doesn't become you."

He spun around, pretending to ignore her, shuffling through things on his shelf. Things she was sure he didn't need.

"I've never been with a man before...If I did something inappropriate, then tell me. I'm eager to learn. Just show me what's required, and I'll try my best."

He made an odd, choking sound. "You did fine," he insisted, though the way he was avoiding her eyes and refusing conversation she was sure she'd committed some horrid erotic faux pas.

"Well then, I'll be going." She stood and wrapped the red fabric around her body. "I'm sorry I didn't perform as your other lovers obviously have."

"My other lovers?" he whipped around, his eyes blazing into hers.

"I'm not an idiot Edward. I imagine you've taken dozens of women on this sofa. Apparently, they knew something about this sort of activity that I don't. I apologize that I failed to meet your amorous expectations."

Obviously furious, he stomped over to her and leaned over her small frame, eyes burning into hers. "You believe I'm disappointed in you?"

"What else would I think?"

"You're absurd!" He grabbed her hand and laid it on the prominent tenting of his pants.

"Does it feel like I'm disappointed?"

He stroked her palm against it, and it seemed to come alive.

"What is that thing?"

Almost violently, he shoved her away, the red fabric slipping from her shoulders, baring her to him. He gripped her hips and ground his loins into hers. Her legs parted automatically and he took advantage creating glorious friction between her aching thighs. The precise thrusting ignited a fire inside of her.
"It's my cock. My phallus."

"What's it for?"

"For mating."

"How does it—"

She couldn't finish her question because he'd grabbed her rear and hoisted her up and laid her down across the sofa, nestling himself between her thighs. He lowered himself, crushing into her core more forcefully than before, gritting his teeth he muttered, "I want you so badly."

"Then show me what you mean."

"Don't tempt me."

He continued to rock his hips into hers with a brutal rhythm. Her body took a life of its own, seeming to recognize his maneuvering and her thighs widened, allowing him access to push into her perfectly. It felt marvelous.

"Why are you making this motion? What are you attempting?"

"It's a prelude to fucking."

His hand wandered between her legs and stroked her through her curls. "A man has a staff between his legs, when he's ready for passion it enlarges." He grabbed her hand and put it on his cock again. "He rubs it back and forth and increases the friction until a white cream–his seed–comes from the tip. This eruption also causes a great wave of pleasure and release, much like when I licked you with my tongue."

"But your cream didn't come out. You were not satisfied from the event. Is that why you were so annoyed?"

"Bella!" he scolded her, "I'm so hard for you that I'm about to burst through my pants!"

He thrust, letting her feel his size and shape. The friction was indescribable, causing her nether regions to tingle and her nipples to form stiff peaks.

"I desire you. You're the only topic I ever want to draw again. You are all that I crave. Do you hear me?"

"Yes." She nodded. "I hear you."

"Then I shouldn't be forced to listen to any nonsense to the contrary."

He was so confusing! Was he satisfied with their earlier engagement or not?

"If you lust after me so intensely...why did you reject me just now?"

"Because I…" His cheeks flushed and he couldn't form the words.

She watched, stunned, in silence. Edward embarrassed!

"Tell me."

Every possible emotion played across his face in that moment. Dare she hope he harbored for her the same feelings she did for him—feelings more than carnal pleasures, more than lust? As a man of his known character, maybe the feelings he had for her were as novel to him as they were to her.

"Do you feel that you've been moving too quickly for me?"


"You know, when I think of a relationship with you, it frightens me."


"What I feel for you is so overwhelming. Like nothing I've ever felt before. And I don't just mean the physical things. Emotionally too. I care a lot about you. Probably more than I should allow myself."

He nodded.

"But I'd never deny myself the pleasure of spending time with you...Do you worry I might turn into a complication?"


"Well don't. Worry, that is. When you decide you've tired of me, just tell me, and I'll go peacefully."


She silenced him with her lips, kissing and tasting his mouth. He pulled back, "You make me sound so cold-blooded."

It wasn't that she found him to be cold at all. She was just being realistic about their situation. They had no destiny—she knew that—so there was no reason to pine over something that would never happen. Determined to bring him back to the here and now, she slid her hand down to his member and gripped it. "What did you call this thing? A cock?"

He shuddered slightly and nodded.

She massaged it, enjoying his squirming. "Is it painful when it's so enlarged?"

"It can be."

"How can you alleviate that?"

"With friction, until the seed erupts."

"Could I make that occur?"

"With scarcely any effort at all."

"What would I have to do?"

"Stroke me with your hand...or your mouth. Or I could put it here—" he stroked across her body's opening—"But that would result in taking your virginity."

"So that's how it happens...you propel this cock inside of me?"

"Quite vigorously."

"Does it hurt?"

"Just the first time. And you may bleed."

"It doesn't sound very pleasant."

"The first time isn't...at least for women."

"But for the man?"

"A man can spill his seed at the drop of a hat...it's what he craves most of all."

"Why isn't it as fulfilling for a woman?"

"It can be...if her partner is a good lover. The man has to ready her and relax her first."

"Is that why you kiss and touch me?"

He nodded again.

"If I begged you, would you take my virginity right now?"

He frowned down at her. "I don't think so."


"I'm confused about us. I'm not sure I should be the one taking it from you."

"Why not?"

"Because we can't predict the future and if you want to marry someday it would ruin you for your husband. And I wouldn't want you remember me as taking it."

"That's very sweet Edward."

"And…I like you. I never want to hurt you."

After hearing something like that, what woman could resist falling in love?

"Can I look at you?"

"You shouldn't."


"Because if you do, I may not be able to control myself."

"At least your shirt, surely that isn't too dangerous."

He paused before tugging the waistband over his head. She grazed his fingers over his sculpted chest, tugging at the few soft hairs. She slid her hands lower along his toned abs and down to his waist. She gripped his cock again, and leaned up whispering sweetly, "Show yourself to me." She hoped he understood she was asking for much more than his body.

Their eyes locked and he undid the top button of his pants, leaving the rest for her. His body was tensed, much like a wild animal waiting to pounce. As she undid the last button, she stared at his crotch, wondering what to do next.

"Don't be timid."

"I'm not." She didn't move.

"Touch me."

He guided her hand inside his opened pants, wrapping her fingers around his flesh. Mesmerized, she gripped him, he seemed huge. He slid his pants down to his ankles as she stroked more firmly. Using both her hands she moved them in a slow and steady rhythm until the tip was oozing with slippery juice. She smeared the juice with her palm and used it to stroke faster.

"Take me in your mouth," he whispered.

"What?" At first she didn't understand his request. He took the tip of his cock and rubbed it along her lips. Suddenly, his request was very clear. She froze and suddenly felt nervous.

"Will you..."

He shook his head answering the question she couldn't finish. "I won't come in your mouth."

"Will you stop if I ask?"

He snorted, and she couldn't tell if his answer was yes or no.

Tentatively she licked him with her tongue, moistening the slit at the tip.

"Like that?"

"Exactly like that," he groaned.

She went to work savoring his taste and smell, lapping and suckling his hardened member with her lips and tongue.

"Open for me."

No longer fearful, she opened, easing her lips over the tip. He filled her mouth slowly, thrusting gently. As he thrust he was whispering to her in exotic languages, running his hands over her head and through her brown hair. She laid there, Edward's cock inside her mouth, enjoying his taste and the sensations his actions were causing her. Then, without warning he stopped.

"I've got to come. Now."

"What are you—" he silenced her with his mouth, kissing her deeply and passionately.

"Tell me what to do," she whispered into his kiss.

"Put your arms around me, hold on tight."

"I will."

"Don't let go."

She hugged him with all her might and he moaned next to her ear as she felt his hardness stroke the soft pillows between her thighs.

She held her breath; waiting for the pain he'd warned her of.

"Breath Bella," he whispered, pressing against her more forcefully.

Suddenly she felt stretched, full. The pain caused her to cry out, he murmured soft words as he thrust more deeply.

Suddenly he was surrounded by a cauldron of slippery warmth. He groaned and shuddered, feeling her tightness pull him in as she breathed harder. She tightened her grip and he pulled out of her, she whimpered at the loss of him and suddenly he penetrated her again. The pain of the first intrusion lessened and she cried out, this time in pleasure.

"You're mine. My Bella."

"Yours," she whispered against his ear as he thrust in and out.

Her pussy throbbed with each stroke. His climax willed him to move faster, she moved with him, hips thrusting, pushing and pulling at one another. Gasps and moans filled the air. Suddenly, his body stiffened and he buried himself deep within her, his member throbbing and spasming inside of her, his seed spilling out and filling her. He nestled his face into her neck, and he heard her quiet sobs.

She was crying!

"I'm so sorry love. I didn't mean to hurt you so much."

She shook her head. "You didn't."

"Then why are you crying?"

"It was just so different from how I assumed, more intimate."

He nodded, shifting so he could hold her in his arms. "Lets rest."

"I'm not tired."

"Neither am I."

"Then why—"

"Because I want to hold you in my arms."


"Yes. Who knows how many more chances I'll get?"

"Well you haven't finished your drawing yet," she smiled up at him.

"You're right, love I haven't."