Sweet Revenge

Word Count: 7,806

Rating: M

Pairing: Edward & Bella

Summary: Bella's bakery may be thriving but her personal life is DOA. When her frustration reaches a breaking point will her "useless" employee with the black glasses and crazy hair be able to calm the storm and give her what she needs?


"FUCK! Boy…where are you?" I am tired, sweating, frustrated and that geeky boy is nowhere to be seen.

"What can I do for you Miss Swan?" He comes out of the walk-in refrigerator holding a mop. Jesus he's useless to me sometimes.

"Clean those prep counters. I still have 300 sugar orchids to paint, the sponge layers for the Creamsicle cake need to cool, there's 10 gallons of fresh caramel on the stove and I need more room. Where the hell is Alice?"

"Alice left an hour ago to pick up her son. She said she'll be back before dawn to help you finish assembly on the three cakes for tomorrow."

"Whole hell of a lot of good that will do me. Get those counters done; I don't have time to wait on you." I huff in frustration as I give the fresh caramel a final stir before moving to the equipment locker in the back corner of the kitchen.

You know that old expression when it rains it pours? Yeah, well, right now it's a fucking monsoon around me.

How did I end up here? Oh, that's right; I wanted to be a pastry chef. I used to think desserts were beautiful, sinful…sexy. I loved the ingredients, the textures, twisting flavors together to make tongues roll and eyes close in pleasure. I used to find it so fulfilling – the gasps and murmurs of my customers as they indulged in their personal confection fantasy. I did that – I brought them that high and I loved the power it gave me. I would laugh at my immature ignorance of the reality of my chosen profession but I don't…hell, I can't remember the last time I actually laughed.

Useless over there finishes cleaning off one of the prep counters and I move to set up my airbrush machine. This isn't my job normally – Alice, my business partner, is the artsy one. I choose the ingredients, figure out the recipes, then bake and layer the cakes that have been called "the ultimate sugar sin" by Chicago Magazine. Alice designs the adornments, paints the pieces and decorates the cakes with such an attention to detail there are customers who cry when they have to make the first cut, knowing they are destroying a true work of art. But Alice isn't here…Alice has a husband and a son…a life outside of our little bakery in Chicago's Rogers Park neighborhood.

I can't hate her for it, though I want to, really fucking bad. I had a life once, too. A beautiful apartment to go home to, filled with laughter, smelling like a mixture of vanilla, espresso and his cologne, manly running shoes to trip over as I walked through the door every night. Yeah, I had it and I lost it. Too many hours spent in this fucking kitchen. Too many weekends spent delivering, setting up, redecorating cakes for others who had found their loves and been good enough to keep them. Too much time away building this business from a rinky-dink home based cake service to one of the most sought after dessert experiences in the Midwest.

I had it and I lost it because the business was more important. I came home early one Friday night almost two years ago to trip over a pair of blood red high heels…not my size. Fucking place smelt like that fake Chanel perfume they sell at Walgreens and some other bitch's giggle rang through the rooms – I had to move. Now I live in the studio apartment above the bakery that smells like stale air and loss. Alright, so loss doesn't technically have a scent, but it sure as hell doesn't smell good up there and I'm too fucking apathetic to do anything about it.

Maybe I can hate Alice a little bit – her house smells like cinnamon and leather. I'm jealous of her happy smelling home with her handsome husband and her cute little boy.

I refocus on the sugar orchids in front of me and start with red paint. I hate red. Pick up, squeeze gently, three passes, set down. Pick up, squeeze gently, three passes, set down. The repetition is good for me, keeps my mind from focusing on the hell my life has become. Two years…two fucking years later and I was still in that dirty little studio, still working an ungodly amount of hours to get these cakes fucking perfect for people who didn't always realize how lucky they have it. Two years of nothing but vanilla, sugar, eggs, flour and butter. No sex, no dating, no friends other than Alice (though can I really be that good of a friend if I hate her, even if it's just a little bit? I'll have to think about that later). Two years of anger and pain, tears and hate. Jesus I am a waste of space…if I were more flexible I would kick my own ass.

Pick up, squeeze gently, three passes, set down. Pick up, squeeze gently, three passes, set down.

Useless boy is moving around behind me, cleaning up the mess I made when I was mixing some white chocolate butter cream frosting together…I shouldn't be so hard on the kid but I can't help it. Alice hired him to help me out and at first I liked the idea thinking maybe I could get some time away from the bakery. Then he walked into my kitchen…my space…smelling all good-godly-boy with crazy fucked up tawny hair and viridian eyes that stared at me from behind his thick black glasses. The kid dressed in baggy black jeans with tattered hems and button down, short sleeve shirts two sizes too big every damn day. If he wasn't staring at me he was staring at the floor, he was clumsy as fuck and never spoke unless spoken to first. He was a first rate pussy and it irritated the fuck out of me. Jesus, grow a back bone already.

OK, not being so hard on him was pretty much a fail at this point. I should really just tell him to go home already. No one wanted to be trapped inside a bakery with me at eleven o'clock on a Friday night. He has to have some sort of life…unlike me. I may have called him kid or boy but he had to be in his early twenties like me, maybe even a bit older. It was hard to tell what with the mop on his head and the black atrocity of eyewear on his face. I should be nice and tell him to leave. I should try to do that without swearing at him and calling him names. I should…

Pick up, squeeze too hard, spray my hand three times as the sugar orchid crumbles.

"FUCK ME!" I scream as the sugar from the broken flower falls to the counter. I go from quiet bitch to complete fucking maniac in 2.2 seconds – slamming my arms on the counter, throwing large containers full of frosting, chocolate ganache and custom filling across the room. I know I break some things, I know there will be hell to pay and a mess to clean when I am done, but at this moment it's too much…all the memories, the pain, the loneliness…just too fucking much. This rage is more about my life and the fucking quagmire it has become than it is about one tiny little broken sugar orchid…even I am not too far gone to understand that somewhere in the back of my head. Words are coming out of my mouth but I have no idea what they are, I just don't have the sense enough to string full sentences together anymore.

"Mother fucker…fucking heels…stupid flower…cheap-perfume wearing…two years…where's my happy smell…gets fucking cinnamon smell…nothing…get nothing…am nothing." I am running out of steam when I feel strong arms wrap around me from behind and my nose is downright assaulted by the intoxicating smell of the boy. It's like water and earth and honeysuckle all mixed together and I wonder how on earth someone can smell so good.

"Miss Swan, please stop, you've hurt yourself. Please stop. Please."

Useless boy is practically begging me to stop, squeezing me so hard my mother fucking tits feel like they are about to pop from the pressure. He's warm and…sticky? What the hell.

"I'm fine, I'm fine, just let me go boy. I'm fine." I feel him start to relax as I keep telling him I'm fine…yeah, I'm fucking fine alright. Jesus in a jail cell I have made a complete and utter mess of more than just my kitchen.

Useless boy – I really should learn his fucking name at some point – releases me from his grasp and takes a step back. I feel something heavy weighing down my chef's coat in the back and pulling on the hair at the nape of my neck.

"What the fuck is all over me?" I ask – not really expecting an answer.

"That would be all of the cake filling stuff you had sitting on the counter behind me. You threw it during your little tantrum," useless replies quietly.

"Tantrum? Who the fuck…wait, if it's filling for the cakes due tomorrow why are you pink? No no no no no no no!" I wail at my own stupidity and almost start throwing things again as realization hits. Pink sticky syrup sitting on the work station behind the boy. FUCK! That was my sugar glaze infused with fresh strawberries from a small farm in middle-of-fucking-nowhere, Michigan. I paid a fortune to have these particular berries sent to me for the cake order due on Sunday. The berries were perfect, real, tiny little things so sweet they could make your teeth hurt…not like those watery, gargantuan, genetically engineered red blobs you bought in the grocery store. Shit shit shit; there was no way I was going to be able to get more of those fucking berries by tomorrow afternoon. That stuff needs at LEAST twelve hours to make sure the flavors are properly infused plus another three to soak just so into the cake layers.

At this point I am so far into my own panic at the loss of my glaze that I don't even notice that useless boy has disappeared. I am running my fingers through the sticky substance on the counter, illogically mourning the loss of strawberries and sugar, when the boy walks back into the kitchen from the alley door with a black messenger bag. I look up and see him staring at me again, though this time there is something in his eyes…a spark of some sort. He's got this determined look on his face as he strolls over to me, grabs my left wrist and pulls it towards him. Useless boy is about to get schooled in the personal space requirements of Miss Bella Swan.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing? Let go of me right now you Neanderthal!" I try to pull my wrist from his grasp but it's too strong…he's too strong.

"Miss Swan I need you to hold still. You have a large cut on your hand and you're bleeding all over the place. Just relax for a minute and let me take a look, then you can go back to being your charming self." The tone of his voice is different…commanding…it simultaneously infuriates me and maybe, just maybe, turns me on a little bit. That just pisses me off even more.

"I think you should get the hell out of my kitchen…right now, boy. I am not…"

"My name is Edward, not boy, and right now I would appreciate it if you would just hold still so I can make sure you don't need stitches. This strawberry shit is starting to dry and I would really like to get it and the rest of this crap off my body as soon as possible." He interrupts me…the motherfucker actually has the gall to interrupt me. Yup, definitely getting a little bit turned on.

I don't know where this arrogant prick came from but he almost makes me wish the useless pussy would come back. I can handle useless-pussy-boy…I'm not really sure what to do with arrogant-asshole over here.

"Fine…EDWARD…do what you have to do then get the fuck out of my hair." I try to cross my arms over my chest but he still has hold of my left wrist.

He opens his bag with one hand and pulls out some 4x4 gauze and a bottle of something clear, setting it on the counter behind me. He then pulls me over to the large sink against the wall and turns the handle for cold water.

"This may sting just a bit but I need to get all of this stuff out of the cut so it doesn't get an infection." He's quieter now, still forceful but without the arrogance of earlier. His voice is smooth, like the chocolate ganache that is currently running down his forehead. His face is close to mine as he puts my hand under the water stream and I can smell his warm boy smell mixed with strawberry, chocolate, caramel and apple. It reminds me of summer storms and island breezes. Fuck, this is so not what I need right now.

Useless…I mean Edward…turns off the water and drags me back over to the counter with his bag. He takes the bottle and pours some of the liquid onto my hand. The sting makes me wince and try to pull away but his hold is firm.

"Please don't move, Miss Swan. It'll be over in a minute." I sigh and roll my eyes at his tone. He's smirking now, his eyes trained on the gash in my hand.

"You need stitches, though knowing how stubborn you are, I'll bet you refuse to let me take you to the hospital." He's looking at me now, all green eyes and smirky lips. Stupid boy.

"No hospitals. I hate the smell and I don't have the time. Unless my stupid hand is going to fall off, then I'll go, because I need my left hand…it's vital." I'm rambling now. His boy smell and attitude are making me feel a bit woozy…or maybe that's the loss of blood? Who knows at this point?

He's careful with my hand yet his focus and confidence tell me he's done this kind of thing before.

"How do you know this stuff…with my hand…the cut? How do you know about medical type stuff?" I ask as he finishes cleaning my hand and starts placing butterfly strips from his bag across the gash. Jesus, Bella, could you sound anymore ridiculous right now? "Medical type stuff"...is that the best you can do? Oy.

"I'm a paramedic for the city of Chicago. It's my job to know about medical type stuff." He's still working on my hand, holding my arm in place, but I see his lips twitch just a bit at the corners. He wants to laugh at me but he's resisting.

"If that's really your job why are you working here?" My anger is fading fast. I'll start to feel empty again soon and I hate feeling empty. I'd rather feel pain and anger than nothing at all. I need to get him out of my kitchen before I lose what little hold I have over my emotions.

Edward sighs and rolls his eyes a bit before he places a folded piece of gauze over my cut. He reaches back into his magic bag of tricks and pulls out some weird white tape – finally releasing my wrist so he can use both hands to peel small strips off the roll.

"I needed a little extra money and I live a couple of blocks away. I overheard Alice one day in the coffee shop next door. She was talking to this guy about needing to find someone that could work odd hours so I approached her about the position. It's close to home and the hours work well with my schedule." He's done with my hand now but doesn't let go right away. I look up at his face and he's staring at me again through those hideous glasses.

"Plus it gives me the chance to spend more time with you – as unpleasant as that may be sometimes," he says with fortitude, causing me to gasp lightly as my world spins just a little bit. Good god, this is not what I need right now.

"You should really get contacts, Edward. Those glasses are beyond absurd," I practically whisper. I know I'm being a bitch but I can't help it. I should be saying thank you, I appreciate your help, it was nice of you to clean up my cut – but I don't. I can't right now. His green eyes are locked on mine…staring right into my very being…and it's too intense to try to play nice. No one has looked at me, really looked at me, in a long time. Since before red high heels and cheap perfume, before the business picked up and we started leasing the space we were in now. Shit, I can't even remember the last time someone was looking at me as ardently as Edward is looking at me right now.

"I have contacts, Miss Swan. I wear these here because I don't like the way my contacts feel after a couple hours of sweeping up flour. Would you care to voice your opinion on anything else I need or are you done with your critique?" There's a bit of anger in his voice now – apparently Edward has a little backbone after all. Who knew?

I'm about to reply when I realize that we are both still covered in various cake fillings including the strawberry glaze – and it's pretty much solid now. Fabulous. Dried sugar syrup is like concrete and I have it in my hair. This night just keeps getting better.

"Right now, Edward, I think what we both need is a hot shower and a change of clothes. You should really just head home." I turn towards the alley door and begin unbuttoning my coat. It's a slow process as the damage I have done to my hand is making it difficult to bend my fingers properly. When I try to pull the sleeves down my arms I realize how dry the sugar glaze has gotten. The collar of the coat is stuck to the back of my neck and I am yanking out pieces of hair with every tug.

"Do you need some help over there?" Chocolate voice is back. I turn to glare at him but stop dead in my tracks. Edward has removed his hideous glasses and too big shirt. He really should never wear glasses – they cover up the beauty that is his face. All strong angles and pale skin. There's some scruff on his jaw that accentuates the slope leading down to his neck. That scruff should be illegal – it makes me want to lick it, taste it, feel it against my lips and tongue…and inner thighs. The fact that there's some caramel clinging to one side makes it even more appealing.

He's shirtless, his black jeans hanging from his slender hips in such a way that I can see an inch or so of his gray boxer briefs. His body is toned, muscular but not bulky, and his abs may be more lickable than his jaw line. Maybe. The V of his hip muscles leading to the light smattering of hair beneath his belly button is definitely more lickable than his jaw line…Jesus, Mary and Joseph his midsection was simply made to have tongues and fingers run all over it. I can just picture him sprawled out on the stainless steel counter, dark chocolate infused with something fruity twirled all over those abs. Blueberry? Maybe pomegranate instead…just a bit of sweetness. Women would pay good money to take a lick of Edward's chocolate covered abs, I'm sure.

Why on earth does this boy wear such hideous clothes?

I can feel him watching me. I should probably be embarrassed that I am basically eye fucking his chest and abs right now but I'm not. It's been too long since I've had anything even remotely as beautiful as the half naked man-boy in front of me to look at. If he didn't want me to look he wouldn't have…

Holy mother of fuck is that a…? No, it's not, is it? It is! Beautiful, useless, sometimes arrogant man-boy has a silver ring through his right nipple. Oh holy hell, that may be the hottest thing I have ever seen in my life. I reach a hand behind me, gripping the stainless steel counter, to brace myself against the onslaught of Edward's half nakedness.

He's smirking at me now. He's beautiful and he knows it and I bet he uses it to his advantage every chance he gets. I'm getting angry again, thinking about Edward flirting with other women, touching other women, fucking other women. It's completely illogical, the jealousy I feel at the thought of these other women getting to touch and feel the flesh before me when I can't. Illogical and irrational. Fuck I think I'm really starting to lose my mind.

"I don't think I need anything from you, Edward. If you're about done here I do believe it's time for you to leave." I'm trying to stay angry, trying not to give into the voice inside my head telling me to walk over to him and run my hands over his skin. The voice that wants me to run my tongue from his ear to his chin, down his neck, over his collar bone and across to his silver nipple ring. That voice needs to be ignored, that voice can only lead me into trouble.

"Oh, I think there are quite a few things you need from me, Miss Swan. In fact, I'm pretty damn sure there are at least three things you desperately need from me right now," he says, his voice low. He steps towards me, slowly closing the gap between us. I try to hold onto my anger…I really do…but when a half naked, good smelling, nipple pierced, hot as hell man-boy coated in chocolate sin and fruity goodness stalks in your direction you pretty much let your anger go and embrace the desire. It's like a natural response to the hotness…and the food.

"And wha-wha …what exactly do you th-think it is that I need from you, Edward?" I stutter a bit as he reaches me, holding his body mere centimeters away from my own. Jesus he's tall. I've never noticed but now that he's right here in front of me I can't help but notice that he's about a foot taller than I am. He's staring down at me, that same determined look in his eyes. I am gripping the countertop behind me like a life line as I gaze back at him. My breath speeds up and I can feel my heart trying to pound its way out of my chest. Oh my, he smells so fucking good! My panties are damp and I know if I look down my nipples will be pointing at Edward's chest like two mini divining rods.

"First, I think you need me to help you out of these sticky clothes," he says softly, reaching forward to run his fingers down the side of my neck to the hollow of my throat. My head falls back and my eyes flutter closed as he makes contact with my overheated skin. He leans forward and I can feel his breath on my ear.

"Second, I think you need me to assist you in cleaning these different concoctions from your body," he whispers. Suddenly I feel something warm and wet at the corner of my jaw. For the love of all things fuckable, the man is licking me! I groan as he runs his tongue down the side of my neck, moving his body a bit closer to mine so he can keep laving my neck around the back where I'm sure the strawberry glaze is coating my skin.

His free hand reaches around to the small of my back and pulls me away from the counter bringing our lower bodies together in a firm hold. He spreads the fingers on his other hand open, his thumb on one side of my throat and his fingers on the other. The weight and warmth of that hand on my body makes my breath hitch and my eyes roll back in my head. I feel his teeth sink into the flesh where my neck and shoulder meet and I moan…loudly.

"And third, I know, for a fact, that you need me to fuck you senseless right here in this kitchen." With that he pulls me by the back of the neck and the hip until my body is flush with his. His lips crash down on mine in a mess of teeth and tongue and sensitive skin. His tongue is in my mouth, pushing, swirling, tasting and I am helpless to stop him. He's right, I need this. My anger is gone, morphed into desire so strong my body is practically vibrating with want.

I bring my bandaged hand up to the nape of his neck and lock my fingers in the hair there. My other hand immediately seeks out that little silver ring that has been taunting me. The metal is warm to the touch and I can feel the pebbled flesh all around it. I give it a tug and am rewarded with a throaty moan from Edward.

His hands are everywhere, running up and down my back, my sides, brushing by my breasts, slithering over my ass as he keeps pulling me closer to him. His kiss is brutal, bordering on painful, as he relentlessly devours my lips. He stops suddenly and pulls back a few inches, leaving me breathless and wanting more.

"Turn around, Miss Swan," he demands, his eyes dark with carnal want. I release his hair from my fingers and do as I'm told, putting both hands flat on the counter. There's chocolate ganache, caramel and strawberry glaze all over the counter and on the floor beneath us. I'm sure it's in my hair and on my clothes, I know for a fact it's all over Edward, but this thought just turns me on even more. Chocolate, caramel, strawberry and Edward…

ffffffuuuuuuucccccckkkkkk mmmmmmeeeeeee

"I am going to take your clothes off now, Miss Swan," he states, his voice low and gravelly and pulling me from my edible distractions. Oh my, where did forceful Edward come from and how can I get him to stick around?

His hands come up to the collar of my chef's coat and gently tug it away from my neck. The syrup causes the fabric to stick to my skin and hair and there is a brief moment of pain as the coat is pulled off. Edward then runs his hands down the side of my ribcage to the bottom hem of my t-shirt, grasping it and pulling it straight over my head. I feel something warm and sticky drip and smear across my bare skin and I gasp at the sensation. My hands immediately try to cover my lace covered breasts but Edward grabs my wrists and pulls my arms until my palms rest on the countertop.

"Keep those there, Miss Swan." I whimper shamefully as his fingers drag along my arms and around to my back. He deftly unclasps my white lace bra and runs his hands up the straps to pull them from my shoulders. He brings one side down to my wrist, pulling my hand from the countertop and placing it back in the same spot before dropping the strap and repeating the process on the other side. Once I am bare from the waist up he leans into me and runs his nose up the shell of my ear.

"Lean forward, Miss Swan," he whispers and I can feel his lips brushing the side of my face. I do as I'm told, again, and lean forward over the work station, causing my ass to rub up against his obvious erection.

"Good girl, Miss Swan. I'm going to help you get this syrup and chocolate off of your skin now and then I expect for you to do the same for me. Is that understood?"

"Mmmmhmmm," I'm all breathless moans at this point. Edward is being forceful and dominating and I surprisingly love it.

With my approval Edward places one hand on the countertop in front of me and the other wraps securely around my waist, pulling my body into his with more force. He leans over my back and begins licking the sticky mélange from the back of my neck. His tongue makes long passes back and forth against the sugary mess for awhile and I enjoy every mother fucking second of it. I am squirming and moaning when I suddenly feel his teeth against my skin and I buck my hips backwards into his.

"Oh god, Edward," I pant rolling my ass into his groin, feeling every single inch of his hard cock pressed against me. I bring my hand back to his hip but he is too fast for me. He releases my waist and pulls my arm back to where my palm is resting flat on the countertop again.

"That's twice I've reminded you to keep your hands here, Miss Swan. Do not make me tell you a third time. Am I understood?" He's angry again; his voice cold and clipped and I am terrified he's going to stop doing…whatever it is he's doing.

"Yes, I understand, Edward. I'm sorry, I won't do it again, just don't stop," I'm begging as I roll my ass back into his hips, trying to get him to put his mouth back where it was. My brain has shut off – no more thoughts, no more emotions – just sensory overload. Taste and touch and scent battling for dominance in my body…and I like it.

"That's my good girl," he says and then his mouth is back on my skin, licking, sucking, and biting his way from one shoulder to the other. His hands are back on my body, one around my waist holding me to him, the other running up and over my rib cage to my breast. He spreads his fingers against the flesh and squeezes causing me to moan again and grind harder against his cock. His fingers come together slightly to move over my nipple, rolling, pinching, pulling…fuck it's so good!

The arm around my waist releases slightly so his hand can start moving down, reaching the waistband of my jeans. He's still licking, biting, pinching and pulling as he slips his hand into my pants and begins rubbing circles on the sensitive flesh between my hipbones. Suddenly both hands disappear from my flesh and I whimper at the loss. I feel his arms and hands moving around me and look down to realize he is unfastening my jeans. He slips both hands into the open flap and pulls down, stripping the denim from my hips. He kneels behind me as he pulls the garment all the way down my legs, lifting one foot and then the other to remove the offending article. I am now standing before him in nothing but pink cotton panties, slightly bent over the stainless steel work station with my ass practically in his face. I see smears of chocolate and strawberry on my skin left behind by Edward's hands in his travels, looking like some kind of erotic edible finger painting.

"Turn around, Miss Swan." He's standing behind me again, demanding. I turn slowly, not sure what to do with my hands that have been on the countertop. He's gazing at me, running his eyes up and down my body, devouring the sight before him, and I have never felt more exposed. He licks his lips, catching a bit of the homemade caramel that is splattered there.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me? Barking orders, calling me boy, demanding my compliance? You drive me crazy, Miss Swan; you make me want to fuck your tight little ass until I break through the tough exterior and find the real you. You push every single one of my buttons, making me want to hurt you, to fuck you, to devour you. Is that what you want, Miss Swan? Do you want me to fuck you? Do you want me to devour that delicious body of yours?"

I'm shaking, unable to think clearly, unable to respond in any way. He is staring at me with those fucking eyes and that ridiculous jaw of his is flexing, demonstrating the amount of tension in his entire body with every little muscle movement. He still has sugary syrups and fillings all over him and I want nothing more than to lick him from one end to the other but I can't move. I can barely breathe…I don't know what this is, I don't know what to do, I don't know what to think.

Edward moves to close the distance between us, stopping as his bare chest barely brushes against mine. He tilts his head to keep his eyes on mine as he breathes his ridiculously sweet breathe in my face.

"Stop thinking, Miss Swan, and just feel. What do you want? What is your body telling you to do?" He whispers and I respond instantly.

I bring my hands up to his chest and place them against his skin, running them over the smooth flesh, trailing chocolate and strawberry all over him. He's still not moving, staring at me, so I lean forward and run my tongue up his sternum. I can feel his muscles tense and his breathing hitch as my tongue moves over his incredible skin. I reach his collarbone and bite, hard, sinking my teeth into him.

"Fuck," he snaps and his hands are on me again, pulling me towards him, reaching down to grab the backs of my thighs. One more pull and I am airborne, my legs wrapping themselves around his slender hips as my mouth moves to his. He's all sweet and boy and chocolate and I am groaning at the taste of him.

He pushes me back against the countertop and I place one hand atop it to help support my weight. His erection is trapped between our bodies pressing against the bundle of nerves between my legs. I start grinding myself against his cock, enjoying the friction, as he pushes back against me.

He lifts me a bit more and places my ass on the counter, running his hands down over my hips to my thighs. His fingers knead into my flesh almost painfully but I relish it, need it. Suddenly he breaks our kiss as he moves one hand to push my upper body back away from him.

"Lay back, Miss Swan," he whispers, still confident and demanding. I do as he says and lay back against the countertop, gasping at the temperature difference between my overheated skin and the cold stainless steel. The counter is wet and sticky from the myriad of edible potions all over it and I have the urge to roll around on it, coating my body in sweetness and decadence.

Edward's tongue is once again on my body, running down my neck to my collar bone. He continues down, stopping occasionally to suck harder or bite at a particular spot, until he reaches my breasts. His hands come up to grasp at my flesh as he takes one nipple in his mouth and bites down. I cry out at the sensation and arch my back into him, encouraging him to take more. He lavishes each breast with individual attention from his mouth, kneading the other with his hand at the same time as I writhe against him. Jesus fuck I need him, right now, just like this.

His mouth continues on it's way down my body, teasing and tormenting me all the way, as his right hand slides down to the edge of the pink panties I am still wearing. He pulls them down my thighs, supporting my legs as he works them off one then the other, his mouth never leaving my skin. His tongue is teasing my belly button as he brings his right hand to my slick folds and slides it teasingly along the sensitive flesh.

"Mmmmm, Miss Swan, you are so wet for me, so ready. Do you agree with me now? Do you see how you need me to fuck you? I think you do, I think you know you need it," he teases me, sliding his fingers along my flesh, around my opening, near but never exactly in the spot I need them to be.

"Yes, Edward, oh god yes, I do."

"You do what, Miss Swan. Tell me, I need to hear it from you," he's louder now, demanding as his fingers circle my entrance.

"I need you to fuck me Edward, here, now," I exclaim, lost completely to his hands and mouth.

"I've wanted to hear you say that since the first day I walked into this kitchen." And with that he plunges two fingers deep inside my wet pussy as his tongue slides down and finds my clit. I scream and throw my head back, arching my body and forcing my hips harder against his face. I can feel the slight scruff on his jaw against the sensitive skin of my thighs as his fingers curl inside me. He's sucking and pulling at my clit with his mouth while his fingers work my pussy, pushing me closer and closer to the edge. My legs are shaking, my breath coming in pants as he bites gently on my clit. With one final thrust of his fingers I am lost, falling through space as my body tenses and releases around him. His tongue and fingers don't stop, working me lightly until I begin to come down from my orgasm.

He brings his mouth back to the flesh of my abdomen as he works his way up my body, pulling his fingers out of my pussy as he goes. He is licking and sucking my flesh again as his hands massage their way along my sides and breasts.

Suddenly his mouth is on mine and he tastes like chocolate, strawberry, caramel and me…it's such an intoxicating flavor combination that I grab his head and pull his face to mine greedily, running my tongue all over every surface in his mouth. Jesus, I can't get enough of this taste.

He grabs me behind my shoulders and pulls my body back up to his as my arms wrap around his neck. His hands run back down to my hips and he picks me up once again, pressing my body flush to his. He's moving, jostling me, as I continue to be lost in our taste. I don't fully realize what he is doing until I feel wet and cold against my back once more but this time he has placed me on the floor. His body is hovering over me as I break the kiss to begin licking my way over his jaw and down his neck. Holy fuck there's more of that sweet strawberry glaze here and it makes me want to bite into him.

"I do believe it's my turn to get clean, Miss Swan," he states and I stop what I am doing to look at him once again. The sheer beauty of his face hits me and I whimper a bit. I am locked onto his eyes, unable to blink, refusing to look away.

"I want to taste you, Edward," I whisper-moan, still staring into his emerald depths. I push on his shoulder, asking him without words to roll over. He nods slightly, rolling onto his back as my body follows. I lower my face to his chest and continue to hold his gaze as I lick my lips. My tongue touches flesh and his eyes close, releasing their hold over me.

I look down and see splatters of chocolate, caramel and strawberry glaze. The wetness between my legs increase as the flavors meld on my taste buds, causing me to groan again in pure unadulterated pleasure. Jesus, he tastes so fucking good. I am running my tongue from one spot to the next, relishing in the flavors of my sinful concoctions and boy. I can hear him moaning above me and it increases my arousal, knowing my mouth is pleasing him in some way. I continue down his body, devouring his skin, completely fucking loving every single flavor that hits my tongue. There is no outside world, no cakes, no commitments…there is only this. Chocolate and strawberry and caramel and Edward…nothing else matters.

I pause when I reach the top of his jeans just for a second before I boldly unfasten them and start pulling the fabric down his legs. His boxer briefs come off with the denim and I am face to face with a cock so glorious and hard it makes me want to write fucking poetry about it or something equally as ridiculous. My eyes dart to the bottom shelf of the workstation to my right where I see a puddle of the chocolate ganache from earlier and I act without thinking. I reach over and place my palm in the liquid chocolate before bringing it back to Edward's cock, running my hand from the tip all the way down to his base, coating his cock in chocolate.

I glance up to see his reaction and his eyes are on me, dark and hooded, as he pants and moans. I want to go slow, I want to tease him and make him writhe but the thought of that chocolate and Edward together drive me over the edge and in one move I completely envelop him in my mouth.

"Jesus FUCK," he cries as he bucks his hips towards me and grabs onto my hair with both hands. I start rolling my tongue around him, licking all the way as I move my mouth upwards. When I reach the tip I swirl my tongue along it, savoring the slightly salty chocolate flavor, before I begin to lower myself once more. I continue in this manner - licking, sucking, stroking, biting – until suddenly Edward's hands are under my arms and he is pulling me up to his face. His lips meet mine and his tongue plunges into my mouth once again.

"Oh god you taste so sweet," he whisper-moans, "I don't want to come in your mouth, Miss Swan. I told you I was going to fuck you and I fully intend to honor my commitment."

With that he reaches between us to grasp his shaft and begins rubbing the head along my pussy. I shudder and moan every time he passes over my swollen clit, rotating my hips with abandon. In the next instant he is right there, the head just barely entering me as he holds me still.

"Please, Edward, oh god please." I am wanton, breathless and way past the teasing stage.

"Please what, Miss Swan?" he asks, sliding into me a fraction of an inch more then holding still again.

"Please fuck me, I need it, I need you to fuck me right now!" I yell and Edward pushes into me fully, stretching me.

"," I moan, relishing the feeling of having him inside me. I stay still, panting, adjusting to his girth as he flexes his hips up at me and groans quietly.

I begin to move on him, sitting back to support my weight on his thighs. Edward is beautiful in his pleasure – his eyes closed, his head back, his bottom lip between his teeth as he moans and rubs his hands up and down my thighs. I angle back a bit further and move my left hand to my clit for additional friction while rolling my hips.

"Oh yes, touch yourself, baby. Does that feel good? Does my cock feel good inside you?" Edward is now watching my hand as I bring myself closer to the edge, rushing forward for that sense of relief.

"Mmm, yes, oh fuck yes it's so fucking good," I say as I begin to twist my hips a bit on every upward roll. Edward is still staring at my hand between my legs so I adjust my fingers to be able to spread two around his cock while still putting pressure on my clit.

"Oh fuck, Miss Swan, I'm going to cum. Oh oh..." Edward is panting, sweating, gripping my thighs as I squeeze his cock harder between my fingers. I pinch my clit between my finger and thumb and the world explodes. I cry out as my entire body tenses then pulsates with the power of my orgasm. I am aware of Edward's body stiffening beneath me as I rock back and forth trying to extend the pleasure radiating through me.

I collapse on his chest as I come back down, relishing in the warm, smooth skin beneath me.

"Jesus, Miss Swan, that was incredible," he says, rubbing my back lightly as he tries to catch his breath.

"Mmmmhmmm" I notice the chocolate and caramel now covering my legs and splattered along the sides of Edward's ribs and I can't help but giggle.

"What's so funny?" he asks, sounding sleepy.

"We've got chocolate and cake filling all over us again," I say. All my defenses are down – I am more comfortable than I have been in two years on the floor of my kitchen covered in sticky sweetness with this previously useless boy beneath me.

"Oh really? I promised you I was going to help you get all of this stuff off of you, Miss Swan. Looks like I may have to go back and redo steps two and three." He smiles lazily as he moves to kiss me again, his tongue running along my lips before I open them for him.

I run my hands over his chest again, spreading the chocolate and caramel concoctions across his skin. He breaks our kiss for a moment and looks down, grinning when he realizes what I am doing. He starts sucking and biting on my neck as he rolls us over so I am now underneath him with my side and back covered in chocolaty mess.

"Hey Edward?" I whisper, rolling my head back to give him better access.

"Yes, Miss Swan?" He mumbles against my neck.

"Call me Bella."