Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Cullen Contest

Pen name: .Cantante.83

Title: Darkness

Word Count: 7,062

Rating: Mature (M)

Summary: Ms. Bella Swan is offered an unexpected, lucrative position as gorgeous and secretive Dr. Edward Masen's household manager. She takes it, hoping that the job will be just what she's looking for to advance her career. However, what she doesn't know is that there is someone ELSE who's got ulterior motives for her hire. There's more that meets the eye in the Masen estate. Written for Kyrene & Sobriquet's "Dr. Jekyll, Mr. Cullen" Contest. AU/AH (...or is it?) Rated VERY M.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. All characters from and references to Twilight and the Twilight Saga belong to Stephenie Meyer. No money is made from this writing, and no copyright infringement is intended.

A/N: Thanks to Kyrene and Sobriquet for holding the contest. This is very lemony, and VERY dark. Please keep that in mind. Reviews are definitely appreciated. Voting too! =)





To say that I was nervous was an understatement. I pulled up to the gated drive and swallowed the thick lump that was forming in my throat from my nerves. If you'd have asked me just a week prior if I'd be there now, I'd have laughed in your face. I felt like I was in a haze, floating through the motions in a dream.

I was here to begin my new job. It was not anything I'd actually applied for, but it was the chance of a lifetime.

Let me explain. For the last six years, since I'd started college, I'd worked for one of Seattle's top pharmaceutical companies. I began as a lowly intern, grabbing coffee and taking messages with what I can only describe as pocket change. But amazingly, with hard work, no social life, and a whole lot of luck, I managed to climb the ranks and work my way up to becoming an executive assistant to the Branch Director. Which sounds like I did a whole lot of butt kissing or under-the-desk "career padding," but really, I was just really lucky. I happened to be in the right places at the right times, and once again, I had little to no social life.

I was organized and thorough. I took a great deal of pride in getting things done well and efficiently. I loved everything neat and tidy. I was good at my job, and I liked it.

But that doesn't mean I didn't want to grow. My job sounded impressive, but in truth, there was much to be desired. I wasn't much more than a glorified coffee girl, even though I could be so much more. I only got paid a little more than the office ladies, and I didn't have a good benefit package.

Six years. That is until six days ago. It was then that I received a phone call from Dr. Edward Masen's personal assistant alerting me that there was an open position working directly for beautiful, wealthy Dr. Masen—as his House Manager. And he wanted me to have it.

Dr. Edward Masen was one of the area's most eligible bachelors in more than one sense of the word. Everyone knew who he was. He was a prodigy, brilliant from what I'd heard, and he'd managed to make advances in medicine before he even made it to his thirties. He came from a really wealthy family, and he apparently made plenty of money on his own. I'd never met him in person, but anyone in the business world knew of him. Hell, most people outside business even knew about him. He was the Brad Pitt of the pocket-protector set.

This job was a real stepping stone for my career. It was exorbitant amount of money and if I ever wanted to move up, it would look absolutely fantastic on my resume. I'd just been offered an extremely sought-after kind of position without even needing to apply for it.

I know how it sounds. I'll admit that I felt that way too when I first got the call. In fact, I thought it was a practical joke. The offer was almost too good to be true. But the official paperwork was faxed to me, and since I had my brother look over the legalities for me, I was finally convinced.

"Bells," Emmet said with a mouthful of pizza, "it looks legit. I mean, all of the tax ID's check out, and I don't see anything that looks like a scam. I really hate to say this, but it looks like you have this job."

Emmett and I were sitting in my crappy little kitchen looking over the employment paperwork that Dr. Masen's office had sent over. Even though I rarely needed it, it was nice to have free legal advice when I did. Emmet and his wife Rosie were some of the best lawyers in the area, well at least that I could afford. There were tax documents and a job description, as well as 401K forms and benefit package with dental options. I salivated at the idea of not having to rob my savings account when I needed my teeth cleaned.

"What's that supposed to mean? Are you saying that you don't want me to take this job?" I took a bite of pizza and he sighed, rubbing his eyes.

"Listen, I know this is a lot of money—and I mean a lot of money. Jesus this guy must be loaded!—but it's weird, Bells. Everything checks out legally, but that doesn't make me feel much better. It's feels kinda random that they just called you out of the blue. And creepy."

He was right, but the idea of having this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity pass me by was heart wrenching. I just couldn't do it. Something in me was begging me to take this job.

"Okay, Em. I know, but I have to take this. I promise. If anything feels weird, I'll let it go."

I'll let it go.

And that is why I suddenly found myself in the most beautiful formal sitting room I'd ever seen.

It was large and open, with a big bay window facing out onto the large, landscaped front lawn. A warm fire burned in the stone fireplace making it feel homey and lived-in. Despite how grand the house was, it had a comfortable feel about it. The tones were warm, accentuated by rich woods and plush furniture. Off in the corner of the room, away from where I was situated was a beautiful mahogany piano. I fidgeted with my hands, suddenly more nervous about the job. I could already tell that the man had good taste. What if he didn't see me as a good fit? What if I didn't meet his standards? I was worrying, sitting and waiting.

I looked up at the sound of entrance, and smoothed my pencil skirt with my clammy hands. I expected to be meeting Dr. Masen, but I was instead greeted by a short, stubby woman who appeared to be in her mid thirties. She reached out her hand professionally as she stalked across the room.

"Miss Swan?" I nodded at her and looked at her expectantly. At that, she smiled brightly. "Great to meet you. My name is Kate. I am Dr. Masen's current house manager. Well, actually, I guess you are the current one. I'm on my way out," she laughed.

Kate was a delightful woman. She liked to talk, and had a bright, effervescent personality. She reminded me of Mrs. Potts, the teapot from the Disney Beauty and the Beast. I shook my head at my odd thought. It paid to have nieces, I guess. Kate took me through her daily duties as Dr. Masen's House Manager. It was a good thing I was detail oriented. He seemed to be a peculiar sort of person.

She was leaving because she was getting married—to one of the delivery men who constantly delivered to the Masen estate, no less. I laughed with her as she giggled and blushed. She explained that Edward Masen was a man that liked things a certain way, and that he was very private.

"In fact," she said as she was showing me his office, "he's not around much. He's very busy. It is unlikely that you'll have to deal with him much. He sometimes acts a little strangely, but he's really a wonderful soul."

I didn't doubt her. I knew about all the charitable work he did on a regular basis, and I was sure that it was a good reflection of his character. He had much, and he gave much.

The house was huge. The rest of the home was decorated in the same manner as the sitting room, saturated in wood tones and relaxed. The Tudor style was reflected throughout the home with wood paneling, high ceiling beams, and leaded glass. There were seven bedrooms, though Dr. Masen lived alone. The kitchen was massive, with two large marble islands and a breakfast nook that rivaled the size of my bedroom. I salivated as Kate took me through the library, with floor-to-ceiling books. I ran my fingers over the spines, surprised at some of the tomes there. Edward Masen was well-read, assuming he actually read them. Who knew, with exceptionally wealthy eccentrics. There was a private terrace out the back, as well as a beautiful lush garden and carriage house. He kept a small staff that I would also be in charge of.

"What's in here?" I asked, as we walked past a door on the third floor marked "Private."

Kate sighed, ringing her hands.

"That is Dr. Masen's private… study? I guess, you'd likely call it. I don't really know, to be honest. He uses the office downstairs for the most part, but this is his sanctuary. You're not allowed in there. No matter what."

The statement sounded more like a warning than anything else, and for a moment I was a little worried. I wondered what could possibly be behind that door that was so secret—maybe he was a mad scientist or a closet Barbie collector—but then I shook my head and laughed to myself. I would want a room that was strictly mine, too, if I lived in the public eye as much as he did. I rolled my eyes at my own foolishness.

The rest of the week consisted of Kate showing me the way that the house was run. I had to admit, though everything was very precise and detailed, it was an ideal working environment. I didn't have to dress up on a day to day basis, unless there were professional appointments to attend too, and that suited me just fine. Even though I had managed to dress the part of young professional for so many years, I still preferred the comfort of jeans and a sweatshirt. My employer was rarely home, which allowed me to get my tasks complete with no one looking over my shoulder. I was better that way. I managed to meet the staff and many of the regular delivery men, including Kate's fiancé Garrett. He had lunch with us one day. I had yet to meet Dr. Masen himself yet, however.

There was only two days left before Kate was done. I felt acclimated to my environment, and was confident that I'd have no problem managing once I was on my own. We were sitting in the large kitchen, going over the landscaping schedule for the coming month when I felt the air shift with someone's entry.

I looked up to lay eyes on the most beautiful man I'd ever seen. Ever. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with messy bronze hair that looked like it had been tugged and teased in every direction—sex hair. His complexion was cool, but while many men would look pale with skin that shade, he looked marble-like and statuesque. He was dressed casually, which surprised me most of all, and even through his loose jersey shirt and khakis, I could tell that he was well-toned and sculpted. He had a strong jaw-line and full lips. Black-rimmed glasses sat perched on his straight nose, framing the most beautiful jade eyes I'd ever seen.

I gasped. The sudden, unexpected sound made him look up from the paper he was reading while he walked and look right at me, boring into me with his brilliant green eyes.

He froze in his tracks. Energy swirled around us, igniting me. For a moment, he looked as stunned as I felt, but then he softened in understanding and smiled, showing off a row of perfectly straight, white teeth. Good dental program. I think I sighed.

"Hello," he said, stepping forward to take my hand. His voice made me melt in all the right places. "You must be Ms. Swan. I'm Edward Masen. I'm so sorry that we didn't have an opportunity to meet until now."

I managed to find the strength to take his hand. When our hands touched, I nearly vibrated from the feeling of it. God, he was gorgeous. I glanced over at Kate, who was smiling at me knowingly. Of all the things to tell me about the job, did she not feel the need to warn me about this?!

"Um, hello, Dr. Masen. Er, you can call me Bella." I hazarded a glance at Kate, who nodded slightly to indicate that that was acceptable.

"Alright," he said, still smiling lopsidedly. "Bella. Then you may call me Edward."

I must have looked unsure about his allowance, because he smirked warmly and continued.

"I insist."

"Okay. Edward. I'd like to thank you for offering me this position."

"Oh, you're welcome. You come highly recommended. And Kate says you've been doing wonderfully. I'm convinced you'll be perfect."

I stumbled on my words, unsure of how to handle this magnificent man. He smiled at me genuinely again. Christ, his smile was enough to weaken me. I was so in trouble.

The following weeks passed by quickly. Kate had been right about the fact that I wouldn't see Edward Masen very often. He was a very busy man.

When I did see him, I was struck over and over with exactly how lovely he was. Then I mentally slapped myself, because he was my employer, and while I will admit to the occasional rogue thought about him spreading me wide open on the kitchen island and making me cry out his name, he was nothing if not professional. Okay, I'm lying. It was more than occasional.

Over the few weeks I'd been working for Dr. Masen, I learned a great deal about his personality, just from running his household. He was diligent and hard-working, completely dedicated to his profession. I'd never met a man that was so passionately involved with the lives of his patients and the daily work of the hospital. I suppose as chief of staff and executive of a hospital, that was your job, but while some might become jaded and filled with self-importance because of the power of the position, Edward Masen was kind and reserved.

He filled his home with lovely things, but he was not proud or arrogant about that fact. His favorite things were those that he grew up with and inherited from his parents or grandparents, and when he was casual, I thought that I sensed that he was truly happiest.

He was thoughtful and respectful, and whenever he saw me, he greeted me with the warmest of expressions. And it wasn't in a skeezy, want-to-fuck-you-because-I-can kind of way. He was a genuinely nice person. I was very comfortable with him, and enjoyed his company. When I wasn't fantasizing about ripping his clothes off, that is. Our dynamic was odd. There was always a steady, pulsing sexual tension between us, even when we were at ease with one another. When it got to be too much, he quickly found an excuse to leave the room. He was the epitome of gentlemanliness.

I wondered if the man had any flaws. I highly doubted it.

Okay, that isn't true. I found, despite the fact that he was a warm individual with glorious green eyes and a huge…heart—shut up, I was definitely going to say heart—he was sad. Something about him was inherently sad, and I imagined it stemmed from his loneliness. Because while Edward was beautiful and rich, and kind, he didn't seek out the affection of those around him. In fact, he seemed to push it away. While he would carry on light, safe conversation with everyone, regardless of their social status, it never went deeper than that. There was never anything that actually let anyone in. It was genuine, but superficial. Edward Masen was hiding himself, keeping everyone an arm's length away.

So I was surprised one evening when I learned just a little bit more about Edward, though it only raised more unanswerable questions.

I was in the kitchen, going over the schedule for the next day. The holidays were coming, and Dr. Masen hosted one of the hospital's mixers at that time of year. There was a great deal to be done, and the event planner was coming at the ass crack of dawn to get everything under way. After fully acclimating myself to running the house on my own, I wasn't thrilled about having to play footman to some prissy little party bitch. They were all like that. I cringed.

It was almost six thirty. I knew I should have left earlier, since I was supposed to be back so early, but I knew that if I spent the extra time in the evening, I would be just that more ready for the next day of fuckery. There was that, and there was the fact that Edward didn't like it if I stayed late.

I knew the man liked his relaxation time. He'd let me know very blatantly in the beginning that he didn't want me staying late. He insisted that I be on my way by six at the latest, telling me that he wanted me to be happy and productive. He was so sweet about it, I almost overlooked the fact that he was almost desperate about it, as if it was less for me than for him. Like he was hiding something.

So when he walked into the kitchen that evening, clad only in a pair of flannel pajama pants, needless to say we were both shocked. Okay, he was shocked, and I was drooling.

"Bella," he said, giving me a wary look. "What are you still doing here?" His eyes darted back and forth, and he almost looked worried that someone would see us. I wondered if perhaps he entertained more than himself at night. Perhaps he did have secrets. My heart sunk.

"Oh, I'm sorry Edward. I was just finishing up some of the preparations for tomorrow's visit from Ms. Brandon."

He looked at me as if I were speaking Japanese. Well, not Japanese, since I'm pretty sure he spoke that. How about, Martian? Yes, he looked at me as if I'd just spoken Martian.

"Um, the event planner?" I clarified, sounding just a little bit too unsure. "For the Gala?" His eyes softened in recognition. "I was just about to leave."

He sighed deeply, and his shoulders relaxed noticeably. He smiled and nodded.

"Oh, of course." He seemed almost gleeful, and I decided that it was my cue to leave. He obviously didn't want me to meet whomever he was rendezvousing with, and frankly I had no desire to meet her either. I may have been a little bit less than forthcoming about my deep infatuation for this man. It was borderline crazy-person. I ducked my head in rejection, swept my things into my arms, and spun on my heels to leave him.

I brushed past him, feeling the heat of him so closely it made me ache, when I suddenly felt his hand grip my bicep firmly. His reflexes must have been quick.

I stood still, worried that he was angry, while at the same time, wishing to never be separated from him. Never—not once—had he ever touched me. He always kept a respectful distance, but something in his touch was desperate.

"Bella," he whispered roughly. I felt his breath wash over my cheek, and I couldn't bear to look at him. He was so close, I could almost taste him. I didn't trust myself to look into his eyes.

"I just…" he started again. "Well, I just wanted to tell you that you've done such an amazing job these last few weeks. I'm, well, I'm very grateful that you're here."

"Th, thank you, Edward. For saying that," I stuttered, still unable to look at him. He softened the intense hold he had on me, and I felt to air between us crackle as he released me.

"I've been meaning to ask you…"

"Yes?" I said, a little too quickly.

"Well," he started, looking down at his feet. It seemed that he was struggling, and it was a long time before he answered. When he finally did, his tone had changed. "Did you get the information in regards to your retirement fund?" The question caught me off guard with its unnatural coolness.

"Um, yes," I said as the air calmed around us. "Mr. Cullen sent it over last night."

I remembered the almost inappropriate email that I received from Edward's associate the night before. Almost inappropriate.

When I looked up, Edward was staring at me with a fearful expression.

"What did you just say?" The tone of his voice was unnerving. His eyes shone with apprehension, and I started at what might have caused it.

"I said, your associate, Mr. Cullen, sent that information over last night. Though, your secretary also sent it to me this morning from the hospital, but I just figured there was some overlap or miscommunication or something."

I wasn't sure what he wanted me to tell him. He looked away quickly, running his hand through his already-messy hair. His eyes were wild as the gears in his head quickly turned. His breathing was raspy and frantic.

"My associate," he whispered, almost to himself.

"Yes," I said, suddenly concerned and confused. "The one that called me about the job. The man that hired me."

He suddenly looked up and caught my eye, looking for something there. I was almost afraid, but this was Edward. I knew I had nothing to fear from this man. His gaze bore into me so deeply, I felt naked.

"Did you apply?" He said. His eyes darted back and forth as he waited for me to answer.

"No. He contacted me. To be honest, I thought it was a little odd, but…"

He cut me off abruptly.

"Bella, you need to leave," he said, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards the door. "Right now."

"Edward," I said, suddenly fearful about the look in his eyes. He looked scared. "I don't understand."

"I don't have time to explain, Bella, but please. You need to go. Please." He searched my eyes for a moment, begging me. I don't know why, considering how quickly everything had turned, but the sad and terrified look he was giving me made my heart pang, and I trusted him. I believed him so much it hurt. Quickly, I hurried out the door. As it closed quickly and tightly behind me, I felt like my heart was breaking, and I had no idea why.

I did not see Dr. Masen again for a number of weeks, and even after that, it was in passing. The warm, friendly manner that he had treated me with before was replaced with cool indifference. He would no longer meet my eyes, and when we passed, he barely acknowledged me, keeping his distance.

I would have been worried if it weren't for the fact that I caught him watching me. All the time.

When we were in the same room together, despite the cool exterior that he presented, I could feel him. I could feel his eyes on me, and for a very brief second, when I'd look up, I'd catch him staring intently at me, like he was seeing into my very soul.

Another month passed by this way, and I learned to ignore it as best as I could, though his attention still made me weak in the knees. I was thankful that he couldn't read my mind, because his unattainable beauty combined with his desperate eyes made me want to drop my panties. I didn't understand the strange, almost-feral connection I had to this man.

We hadn't spoken about that night. In fact, we hadn't really spoken at all in so long. I wanted to hear his voice simply say my name, listen to the way it caressed it. It was only usually through notes that we communicated now, and I was beginning to go crazy. What kind of boss doesn't speak to his house manager?!

I didn't expect anything from him. I knew the impossibility that anything would come of my attraction to him. But I still deserved to be treated with respect. It was like I was suddenly a pariah or something, something lower than him. Ever since that night, things had changed. I didn't understand it, but the more I thought about it, the angrier I got. I'd done nothing wrong.

When I opened an email from him that asked me to stay later the following day, I was surprised. While it's hard to discern tone from an email, it seemed as if he was back to his old self again. He was sweet and apologetic for the past month and a half and asked if I would be at the house later than normal to receive a package that he expected. He was going to be stuck at the hospital and wouldn't be able to receive it.

It should be delivered around seven. I'd be grateful if you could be there for me, Bella.

He hadn't called me Bella in so long. It had been Ms. Swan since that night. I loved when he called me Bella. It was almost as good as hearing him say it. I replied to the message and agreed, telling him that I'd be happy to. It was, after all, my job.

The day had been busy. Everyone seemed to need something from me, and by the time I had a moment to myself, it was already after six o'clock. I looked at the clock in the kitchen, noting the time. Less than an hour left until the package arrived. I hoped the delivery was not late.

Actually, as it happened, it was early. I signed for the small parcel, thanking the delivery guy. The package was small, and light enough that I could easily carry it with one hand. I sighed, thankful that I was done with my day. I took the package to his downstairs office, and was about to place it on his desk and leave, when I finally happened to look at it. Attached to the top of it was a small pink envelope. It caught my eye, not only from the delicate blush of color, but also because of the beautiful silver script across the top of it. After further inspection, I noticed that it was addressed to me.

Isabella M. Swan

For what felt like an eternity, I stared at the package lying on the desk. I didn't understand, and it was almost as if I was afraid to touch it. What did this mean? Was it for me? It seemed to be addressed to me, like an invitation. After much deliberation, I decided to open it. I don't know what compelled me. I pulled the envelope off the package and slipped my finger under the seal.


I'm pleased that you took the initiative to open your gift. Please open the package. You'll find the key to your desires within.

Immediately, my body flushed. I didn't understand why, but the words made me feel overheated. I looked around me to see if anyone was about to jump out and start laughing at me, as if I was on one of those hidden camera shows. I shook my head and laughed at myself. I was alone, and I knew that.

Slowly, I reached for the package. Inside was a small wooden jewelry box. It was carved out of a deep, warm wood, and etched with small roses. Inside, lying on red silk, was a house key looped with a red ribbon.

"What the hell?"

I picked it up and held it up in front of me. It looked like any of Edward's house keys, all of which I already had a copy. It only took me a moment to notice the small tag attached to the ribbon.

The Sanctuary

My eyes widened in realization. There was only one room to which I did not have access. Edward's room on the third floor, the one that had always been off limits. I stood there stone still for what felt like an hour. Until I decided to use it.

If I was smart, I would have put it back in the little wooden box and placed it on his desk. I would have left and returned the next day as normal, forgetting about the strange delivery. Or, I would have turned in my resignation. But I wasn't smart. I was curious. I was curious about the strange nature of this glorious man. I hoped this would give me insight. And more than anything else, I hoped it would give me him.

If I could only see into his most private of places.

I reached the door and fidgeted while I decided if I really wanted to do this. Who knew what he kept behind that door. But it was too late. I'd already decided what I wanted to do.

I pushed open the door and was met with the strange muskiness of an enclosed space. But it was not unpleasant. I stepped into the room, which was nearly pitch black, only illuminated by the dim light from the hall outside. My eyes struggled as they tried to adjust.

Once they did, I noticed that it was a private suite, not unlike many of the other guest rooms. There were bookshelves lining the walls, as well as a large fireplace and several comfy looking chairs set in a grouping off to one side of the room. A desk sat in the middle of the room. Off to the other side, was a large four-poster bed covered in a black silk duvet and piled with black silk pillows. The room was painted a deep burgundy. I reached over and flipped the switch on the wall.

The room was immediately lit with a blazing fire from the fireplace. I staggered from surprise.

That was when I saw them. Lining the walls were a series of paintings, all highly erotic in nature. The pieces were eclectic, varying from nude Renaissance woman lounging, to full frontal nudity, to graphic sexual scenes, but they all managed to pick up the blacks and warm fiery tones of the room. They were surrounded by frames made of the same rich wood that the jewelry box was made up of, a tone that was repeated throughout the room by all the furniture.

I gasped as I looked at them, and my breathing picked up.

"Do you like the collection?"

I jumped about a hundred feet in the air as the desk chair turned. I was met with the most unexpected of company.

"Dr. Masen?" I said, unsure of what was going on. I certainly hadn't expected this. He was supposed to be gone. I was supposed to be alone.

For a moment my heart seemed to stop—something about this situation, us alone in the house when he was supposed to be out, in this room, made me suddenly wary. Perhaps he noticed the skip that my heart took, because he smiled wickedly as he rose from his chair as if he was on the prowl. Slowly, he stalked towards me until he was standing so close to me I could feel his heat against my body.

"No, Isabella," he said darkly, "I'm not Dr, Masen. My name is Edward Cullen."

The breath that I'd been holding caught in my throat. I staggered from his nearness. The room seemed to spin for a moment.

"I, I don't understand," I stuttered. I looked on the man that I'd grown so attached to these last months and trembled. His eyes were the same color and shape, but there was something threatening in them now. He grinned menacingly.

"I've been watching you, biding my time. I'm the one who called you. I'm the one who got you where we wanted you. I'm the one who put in all the effort. He thinks that he can control me?! I am the one that brought you to us! He is weak, and he thinks that he can silence me?! I am smarter, better, stronger. I got you here tonight, didn't I?"

I took a step back. The kindness that I'd known before from this man was gone, replaced with venom. He sure as hell looked like the Edward that I'd known, but he didn't sound like him. Something was wrong.

"Edward, please. I'm confused and you are scaring me," I whimpered. He looked at me, and smiled. It was not comforting.

"We are one, he and I. I am trapped in inside his head," he hissed, "all his propriety clouding up what he truly wants. Edward Masen would never be here with you, like this. He would have never done what it takes to get you here with him. He doesn't have it in him, even though he craves you and covets you. But I do, and Bella, we want you. And we will have you."

He lunged at me, and before I could turn away to flee, I was in his arms, surrounded by him. He wrapped me up tightly as I struggled against his strong chest. I could feel his body ripple as I fought against him and he chuckled evilly, mocking all my attempts to run from him. His hands wound in my hair and his arms circled my waist, and for a moment I used all my effort to free myself. It was to no avail. He held me tightly. But my struggling only lasted a moment.

I cannot explain my sudden change. I cannot tell you why I suddenly stopped squirming against him in protest and began squirming against him with desire. I cannot tell you why my body reacted the way that it did, or why my thoughts shut down aside from the desire swirling between us. Perhaps I knew that Edward Masen—my Edward—was in there somewhere, as farfetched and insane as it sounds. But I did stop pushing him away, and began to whimper with need for him.

"Tell me you don't want this," he growled. "Tell me all those times you saw him watching you, you didn't want it. That you didn't throb for it. I know you did. We could smell how much you wanted him to do this. We can smell it now."

My brain wanted to tell him he was wrong, that he was a crazy lunatic, and that I wanted to get far away from him, but with him pressed up against me, I couldn't. In fact, the idea of pushing him away when I'd wanted him so badly for so long seemed excruciatingly painful. I needed him, in a way I never needed anything—not air, not water, not the afterlife. He put wet, hungry kisses all over my jaw and neck, waiting impatiently for my answer and grumbling about it the whole time.

My mind was clouded with the scent of him. It was the same scent that filled the house—his bedroom, his living room, everywhere—only a thousand times more potent. I whimpered longingly, too hungry to fight his hands on my hips and in my hair and over the small of my back. I could feel myself dampening between my thighs, burning for his touch.

"Mmm," he hummed against my skin. "You like the way I feel touching you, don't you?"

I tried to find a rational response. I should have been terrified by the fact that his personality had shifted so drastically, and the way that he spoke to me as if I was his prey, but the truth of the matter was that I wanted him. I wanted him so badly that I was aching, and the fact that he was kissing and touching me allowed the rational part of my brain to shut down completely. I embraced the terror.

I ran my fingers up his strong biceps and wound my fingers tightly in his messy copper hair. I tugged harshly, bringing his lips to mine and he growled. Our tongues fought for dominance, mashing and wrestling. I felt as his hands moved around me and gripped my ass forcefully, pulling me up to him. I wound my legs around his waist, grinding my pelvis into the massive hard-on pressed against me.

He hissed as I writhed against him, creating friction for both of us. I moaned loudly when I felt his cock twitch against me. He spun us around and dragged us both over to the desk. With one hand, he supported me as I nibbled at his earlobe and neck. With the other, he pushed off all the do-dads and documents with one fell swoop, sending them crashing to the ground.

Then he practically threw me on the desk. My head hit the hard, dark wood with a hollow thud. I winched a little bit, but my pain was quickly forgotten, as Edward Cullen's fingers moved over my skin feverishly. His eyes were wild and untamed, his gaze burned into me and his lips curled over his teeth as he looked down at me.

In one quick movement, he ripped my shirt open, scattering buttons everywhere. It was as if he had superhuman speed, and he reached around me quickly—sliding his hand over my stomach, then my side, and then my lower back—snaking up to unhook my bra. He tore that way from my body as well, causing my breasts to bounce wildly.

"We are going to fuck you, Bella," he hissed. I gasped. The way he said my name burned on his tongue, as if it was poison. He splayed his fingers over my hip, as he pinched and pulled my nipple with the other hand. I whimpered as he stepped away.

Slowly, he removed his pants, unbuttoning them excruciatingly slowly. I watched mesmerized, licking my lips as his erection sprung forth out of his pants, bobbing enticingly as he allowed me to look at him.

Edward Masen/Cullen was magnificent. I panted desperately as I took him in: the chiseled upper body and delicious V that led down to his impressive, straining erection, his strong legs and perfect backside that I just wanted to sink my teeth into. And my god, was he the most beautiful man facially too! I whimpered as I looked down at his cock, bouncing in anticipation.

He stalked forward towards me; he quickly unbuttoned my pants and slid them down my thighs, pulling my panties with them. Suddenly I was naked before him, dripping for him. He leaned over me and took my nipple between his teeth. I winced at the slight bit of pain this elicited, but it was a good kind, and my clit twitched at the stimulation.

He dragged his tongue up my chest and over my collarbone, all the way up my neck until he was at my ear. He spread my legs and I felt as he pushed the head of himself against my aching wetness. With one hand, he held one of my wrists pinned above my head to the desk, and with the other, he stroked himself back and forth over my slit.

The smell of us together was heady. I moaned and lifted my knees, allowing him better access. He chuckled sickly. Something in my stomach turned then.

"Tell us," he growled low in my ear. "Tell us that you want us to take you." He looked down at me evilly, smiling. I trembled.

"Enough!" I suddenly shouted as I tried to catch my breath. I shook my head fervently and closed my eyes, trying to dispel the lust-induced haze. I wanted him, I did. But not like this. So many times I'd imagined Edward taking me. It was hot, and it was desperate, but it was not like this. This was not who I wanted. "No more 'us' talk. I only want one of you."

"Who?" he panted with a sneer.

"Edward. My Edward. Please," I begged him, hoping he could hear me, hoping he was not completely gone. "Please, I want to feel you. Please come back to me."

I watched as his face changed. It was as if he was suddenly made aware of his sins by Saint Peter, and he looked at me like a penitent man standing at the gates of heaven. His eyes sought mine, searching them frantically for any kind of sign. The evil and anger and animalism were replaced by worry and fear and sorrow. I reached up to stroke his cheek gently. His eyes closed and he nuzzled into my palm. I reached up a kissed his lips with a shaky breath.

I could feel him about to move away from me, and I clenched my legs around his waist. I needed him to know that this is what I wanted. That I wanted him.

"Don't. Leave. Me," I whispered roughly. He looked into my eyes, searching them for the truth. He must have seen it there, because his face contorted in anguish again and he moaned gently. Being very careful, he slid his hand beneath my head and lifted me up so I was cradled against his chest. He bent down and lifted me into his arms and carried me over to the bed. Once I was seated on the soft silky blanket, I scooted up. He crawled after me, though he didn't look like he was stalking me. He looked like he wanted to worship me.

I laid back against the mountain of pillows and he hovered over me. He pressed his body against mine, and I silently opened myself to him. We rocked together, both quietly letting the recent events wash over us. He was unlike anything I'd ever felt before, and he filled me in a way that no one else ever had. With him, I felt loved, full, safe.

That was the first and last time I met Edward Cullen. My need for Edward Masen—My Edward, the kind loving, intelligent man that holds my heart now to this day—imprisoned Edward Cullen into the darkest places of his soul. We hope we never see him again…

…then again, there's always room for a little…darkness




End Note: Thanks for reading my little story. Don't forget to vote if you are so inclined, starting February 28, 2010. Here is the link: http://www (DOT) fanfiction (DOT) net/u/2170415/ . And as always, leave me a review. Thanks!