A/N: I don't own Twilight. The lovely and talented Stephenie Meyers does. She created them and made them chastely kiss in a meadow.

I make them do hot and dirty things in dark rooms.

This is the first thing I've ever written outside of a school assignment. It's certainly my first attempt at writing a lemon.

If you feel so inclined, please leave a review. I would appreciate any words of encouragement or ideas that would make me a better writer.

Here goes nothing.

Loss of Control

The smoke from the bar makes your eyes itch as it attaches to your contact lenses. You blink in vain trying to lubricate them enough to stop the compulsion to claw your eyes out of their sockets. For what seems like the hundredth time you wonder why you let your best friends talk you into this excursion. Instead of blinking like a traffic light gone haywire, you could be sitting at home in comfortable clothes instead of the short skirt your friends insisted stuffing you into. Your feet encased in blue fluffy slippers instead of the six inch heels that are currently torturing you. The offending contact lenses replaced by the black rimmed comfort of your glasses. Instead of an overpriced, watered down drink, you could be sipping on a nice chilled glass of wine, munching periodically on various unhealthy goodies from your pantry. The noise assaulting your ears wouldn't be the loud and obnoxious bass line of whatever band is hot this week. But rather the sweet melodic voice of Ray LaMontagne or the classic sound of Debussy. You turn to tell your friends you're leaving, the bar scene having lost its appeal hours ago. Then you see him, back in the corner beside the pool table and dart boards, a tall oak in a forest of squatty, unremarkable evergreens.

The light from the neon beer sign behind him illuminates his face, causing his unruly hair to appear copperish in color. He's laughing. His long, lean torso bent forward with the force of his laughter. A splash of amber colored liquid sloshes onto the floor and lands on his right foot. He pauses a moment to shake the spilled beer off his old Nike and resumes conversing with his friends. You lick your lips as your eyes travel slowly up his body, taking in his long legs and strong thighs. They're encased in a form fitting pair of dark colored jeans. A white v-necked t-shirt can be seen under the plaid button down he has on over it. Silently you curse the long sleeved garment as it has obscured his arms from your view. Making you wonder if they are as strong and well formed as his legs. Shaking your head you continue your unabashed leering of this stranger's body. You laugh when you notice that the buttons on the plaid shirt are mismatched. You wonder what caused him to button the shirt incorrectly. Who leaves the house with his shirt buttons mismatched? Was the decision to come to the bar so hastily made that he attempted to button the shirt while walking? Does it matter? He's here and the gap in the shirt caused by his inattentiveness to proper shirt buttoning protocol is giving you a clear view of his broad chest. His pectorals are clearly visible as they rise and lower with each breath. His body abruptly shifts to the right and you're forced to follow lest you lose your private viewing of this human masterpiece. Murmuring an insincere "sorry" to the owner of the foot you just stomped on, you resume your staring.

Slowly, very slowly, you allow your eyes to travel upwards. His neck is long and graceful. His broad shoulders the perfect support. Why have you never paid more attention to a man's neck? Taking a deep breath you allow yourself the first glimpse of his face. You notice his lips. The top slightly overhangs the bottom, forming a perfect pout. The need to feel them against your skin is immediate and forceful. Mentally you gauge the distance between yourself and those pouty puffs of perfection. You'd have to dodge a few chairs, knock a few people out of the way but the end result would be worth the bruising and nasty looks. Steeling yourself, your gaze travels to his nose. Long, straight and regal. Perfect. Is there a better word for perfection? Perfection does not do his cheek bones justice. High and strong, they melt into a jaw line that could cut stone. He has a light coating of stubble and you wonder what it would feel like rubbing on your skin. Specifically, you want to feel it on the skin on your breasts and inner thighs. Unconsciously, you stroke your face, the heat of your blush evident to the touch. The breath that you had been holding comes rushing out. You quickly lower your eyes and head, attempting to regain control of your body.

Clenching your eyes tightly, you try to understand what's going on. Why are you reacting like this? This stranger's presence is quickly knocking down your tightly held wall of control. You've never allowed yourself to lose this much control before. Always the one to keep your emotions in check, locked up so they can't be used against you. Never relinquishing power to another person. Yet here you are. Blushing and breathing heavily at the sight of this man. Allowing your mind to imagine the hardness of his body pressed against yours. The softness of his lips as they crash into yours. The delightful burn of his stubble as he nuzzles your neck. The strength he would use to restrain you as he forced your body to acquiesce to his.

The heat that began in your face now encompasses your entire body. You're burning up from the inside and you haven't even seen his eyes yet. Your eyes widen as that realization hits you. His eyes. You have to see if they are as perfect as the rest of him. Are they blue like the sky? Brown like chocolate or green like a lush meadow? You have to know if they crinkle at the edges when he smiles. Are they the eyes of an angel or the devil? Do they darken with lust? Another deep breath and once more you raise your eyes to the god in the corner. Skimming over the chest and shoulders you long to caress with your lips and fingers, the lips you yearn to suck into your mouth, the strong jaw you ache to lick, you finally raise your eyes to his.

Your mouth drops open, you clutch a nearby chair for support as your body suddenly loses the strength to hold you upright. Your whole body clenches with desire. He's staring right at you. A half smile/smirk playing on his beautiful face.

'Oh god, oh god, oh god…' Your flustered mind repeats. How long has he been watching? How well can he see me? In a panic, you force yourself to turn away from his dark gaze. Your hands clutch your chest. Willing your breathing to slow down before you pass out onto the dirty bar floor, you close your eyes and pretend you're invisible. 'He couldn't see me. Its dark in here. He's to far away to have seen how I was looking at him. I was hidden by the crowd…' the feeble excuses run through your mind hoping one will calm your racing heart.

"Bella." You barely register someone calling your name. "Bella!" It's louder this time. "Bella, what the hell is wrong with you?" You feel a harsh tug on your arm followed by another more insistent pull. Through half closed lids, you see a hand move furiously in front of your face. You don't move. "Alice, get over here. She's gone catatonic." Finally your brain has calmed down enough to recognize the voices of your friends Rose and Alice. Realizing that if the all seeing and all knowing Alice didn't notice you eye fucking the stranger in the corner, there is a very good chance that the recipient of said eye fucking didn't either. Using that thought as a life line, you pull yourself back from the friendly shores of denial and force your eyes open.

"What the fuck was that?" Rose asks. She's standing in front of you, her hands on her hips. The tone of her voice demands an answer for your behavior. Alice is beside her, looking at you with concern. Blinking rapidly, you attempt to speak. "I'm, I'm fine." You manage to spit out. Rose narrows her eyes in disbelief. She dislikes a scene unless she's the star. "Are you really Ok?" Alice asks. She has moved forward and is patting your arm affectionately. You nod affirmatively to her question. "Maybe you should sit down." She suggests.

"Look you two, I didn't get all dressed up to stand here staring at Bella's flushed face all night." Flushed? You reach up and touch your face feeling the warmth. "I'm going back over and finish what I started with that hot blond before that bitch Jessica waddles over to him." Rose turns and makes her way back into the crowd. Alice watches her disappear. With both girls' attentions elsewhere, you take the opportunity to take another deep breath and attempt to regain your composure. Slowly the panic starts to recede and you begin to feel your breathing slow down.

"She doesn't mean to be so bitchy. She really was worried about you. Are you sure you're OK? You were really out of it. " Alice is back and is trying to usher you into a chair. Your body resists her. "I'm going to get a drink. I'll be right back." You give your friend a small smile as you walk by. She smiles reassuringly. They don't know what to do with you. You're never the one that needs watching. Always in control, never the one to act on emotion.

Despite the crowd and loud music, the short walk to the bar gives you a chance to clear your head. You needed a minute to gain some perspective. So what if you were mesmerized by the sight of a pretty face. You're allowed a moment of weakness. That's all it was, a moment of temporary weakness. Everyone has them. No big deal. Your mind makes up the excuses faster as you near the bar. The bartender rushes off after handing you a glass of ice water. Taking the drink you realize how dry your mouth had become. You down half the glass in the first drink. You can feel the ice water run through your veins, cooling the fire that had taken up residence in your body. You roll your shoulders, feeling the tightness in your neck and shoulder muscles pop and crack as they work to release the tension. A particular area on your neck is especially tight. You reach up and begin rubbing the sore muscle.

"I'd be happy to give you a hand with that." A smooth male voice whispers in your ear. You freeze.

All of the tension that had previously been released is back. Your whole body stands rigid at the sound of his voice. You know it's his voice. No need to turn and confirm it. You stand still hoping he'll think you're a mute and will walk away. Your hopes are dashed as you feel him lean in and whisper, "I can only assume by your silence you want me to help release some of that tension" You will your body to remain upright when all you really want to do is fall to the ground at his feet. You try to remember where the exit is and wonder how fast you can make it. You decide to make a run for it, your body tenses, preparing to run. Suddenly you feel firm and warm hands grab your waist holding you in place. "You aren't thinking of running are you?" He chuckles as he turns you around to face him." We have unfinished business." He states. Don't look, you think to yourself. If you don't look at him you can stay in control. His hands flex at your hips, pulling you closer. You stare fixedly at the floor. "You weren't to shy to eye fuck me 20 minutes ago. Why the show now?" He asks. Your brain wants to fight at his words. The assumption that you were putting on a show rankles you but your body overrides the desire to correct him. His right hand leaves your waist and tips your chin up, forcing you to look at him.

The view from across the room was nothing compared to looking at this man at close range. "Green" You suddenly blurt out. You cringe at the sound of your own voice. "Excuse me" he laughs. Once again, all sanity leaves you as you open your mouth, "Green. Your eyes are green." Nice Bella. Or shall we call you 'Captain Obvious'? You mentally kick yourself for the statement. Your eyes move back to the floor. Abruptly, you're shoved forward into him as the music starts up and the crowd begins to move to the beat. Instead of using your hands to push yourself back from him, you unconsciously grab onto his shoulders to steady yourself.

Flush. Your body is flush with his. The fire that had previously been quenched is once again raging through your body. His hands still at your hips and now your hands are clinging to his shoulders. You can feel the hardness of his body as it presses into yours. You move your eyes from the floor up to his chest. Your gaze slowly roams up to his neck. The tendons strain as he leans down to you. Your left hand leaves his shoulder to travel across to his neck, gliding upwards to his jaw. You rub your hand softly across the stubble you had so recently wondered about. It's rough but not unpleasant to the touch. Leisurely you move down to softly graze his lips with your fingers. Soft. They're soft and berry red. The plumpness you'd noticed earlier is pliable under your fingertips. The tip of his tongue darts out to taste you. Your eyes centered on his mouth. You're lost in the feel of him when you hear a guttural moan emitted from the mouth you were fondling. Your eyes dart to his. The mossy green is now much darker, almost an emerald color. He's looking straight at you. You're caught in his dark gaze. Abruptly, you pull your hand back as if he's burned you. You feel your control slipping and you begin to struggle from his grip. "No!" His hold becomes vise like. "We're not done. We're going to finish this" He grabs your hand and you're helpless as he drags you towards the door.

The cool night air hits your face as you leave the bar. It cools your burning cheeks but does nothing to quell the heat running through your body. The closing bar door startles you. You shake your head, trying to clear the haze of lust induced confusion. You've just allowed this stranger, albeit the sexiest stranger you've ever seen, drag you out of the relative safety of the crowded bar and away from the watchful eyes of your friends. You don't know where he's taking you. Or what his plans are for you. The din of the bar music becomes fainter as you follow the man. A man whose lips you've caressed but whose name is unknown. Your mind alternates between screaming for you to run away and urging him to move faster.

Abruptly he stops at the side of a silver car; the force causes you to press into his back. For a moment you allow yourself to relish the feel of his hardness against your chest. The thought of his strong and lean torso hovering over yours as he moves within you flashes quickly through your mind. Caught off guard, he falls into the side of the car dropping your hand. You pull back. "This is wrong!" your head shouts. "But it feels so good!" Your body screams. Common sense kicks in and your body once again prepares to flee.

Before you can manage half a step, your hand is surrounded by the firm grip of his. "No baby, you're not going anywhere." His voice is deep and slightly raspy. He pulls you roughly back to him. One hand at your waist as the other grasps your right wrist tightly.

Your heart rate accelerates and your knees weaken. At that moment you realize that you've never felt this before. It's more than just attraction or arousal. It's more, much more. It's primal. As if your whole existence is centered on this moment with this man. You want him to hold you; you need him to hold you. You take a deep breath and lift your face to meet his darkened eyes. "I feel it too" He says. His grip on your hand is firm; you look down to your wrist and you gasp. Not in pain as much as you notice how right his skin looks against yours. His eyes widen and his grip loosens slightly. "I'm sorry. Fuck! I'm not going to hurt you." His voice drop, "I, I just can't seem to let you go." You hear the desperation in his voice. You know that if you were to speak the same desperation would also be evident in your tone. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, removing his hand from your waist; he tugs roughly at his hair.

Without thinking, you pull your right hand out of his grasp and raise both of your hands placing them on his cheeks, smoothing the stubbly skin with your fingers in a soothing motion. He leans into your touch and gently rubs his cheek against your hand. For a moment you both stand silent and still in the cold night, you shiver as a cool breeze rolls across your shoulders. "Shit!" He exclaims as his arms come around to enfold you into his embrace. The warmth radiates off his skin instantly warming you. You lay your head onto his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. He leans his head down to rest on top of yours and you feel him inhale your scent. You do the same, snuggling closer into his chest. As his musky scent surrounds you, his arms tighten and he pulls you closer. Your arms move around to grasp his back, your fingers mapping the muscles of his shoulders and back. He groans. His hands move from your waist to grab the cheeks of your ass, pulling you tight against the unmistakable hardness of his erection. The warm glow you had been feeling rapidly builds to a raging fire.

The next moan heard is emitted from your mouth. The sound barely registers to your ears before his mouth claims yours. His lips are strong and forceful as he pushes his tongue into your mouth. You can taste the lingering flavor of the beer he'd been drinking earlier as you allow your tongue to duel with his. Your breathing becomes faster as you let yourself fall deeper into his kiss. You move your hands to his hair, feeling the silky locks move through your fingers. His moans grow louder and his kisses more insistent as you tug on his unruly mop.

"Not here." He mumbles against your mouth. You feel him start to pull away. Groaning, you pull him back and proceed to rub your tongue across his lower lip, tracing the softness of the skin. You're afraid to let him stop, afraid the feeling will go away and you can't allow that to happen. If it goes away you may never experience it again and that would be tragic.

The kiss intensifies, his hands move down from your bottom to your thighs, lifting the short skirt. You feel goose bumps on your skin from his heated touch. Suddenly, he turns and your back is pressed against the car, his body shielding you from prying eyes. The cool metal soothes your overheated skin as his fingers move under your skirt to rest on the top of your panties at your waist. Slowly, he skims one hand down your waist to touch the fabric over your pussy. His moan is loud and lust filled. You know what he's feeling on his fingertips, your arousal. The wetness having been obvious to you since you first saw him across the room so long ago. His hand presses harder against you; you inhale deeply and tug at his hair tighter, lifting your hips to meet him. He lifts your leg and places it around his waist, your heel digging into his taunt ass. "You're so wet" he moans against your mouth. You can only nod as his lips trail hot kisses down your neck coming to rest in the crook. The realization that you're allowing a stranger to grope you in a public parking lot is screaming in your head but your body doesn't care about propriety. Its only concern is figuring out how to make him stroke you harder and faster.

Your hands move from his hair to his chest. They glide over his hard pecs, his nipples, down to the rigid muscles of his abdomen. You want his hardness closer, your leg at his waist flexes, pulling him in tighter to you. Abruptly, he pulls away. Instantly you miss the presence of his hand on your throbbing center. Your leg falls away from his waist. Why has he stopped?

You don't get a chance to voice your question before he angrily wrenches open the door. "Get in." He rasps. You know you shouldn't, you know that getting into a car with a stranger is the start of far too many bad movies usually ending with the female being chained up in a basement. You know this is a bad idea. You look into his eyes hoping to find something that will reassure you.

"Please" He asks, lightly stroking your cheek. And there it is. Surely a serial killer wouldn't say "Please" when he asks you to leave your friends and climb into his car bound for god knows where. Right? Your mind is screaming "NO" but your body tells it to "Shut the hell up".

Without thinking you get into the car, the cold leather seat reminds you how short your skirt is. A groan escapes your mouth as you remember how warm his hands were on your skin. How they made you burn. He turns towards you, his eyes dark and that half smirk/smile back on his beautiful face. "Soon baby, soon." He promises as he starts the car. No words are spoken as he drives. You can't take your eyes off him. His hands grip the wheel tightly but he doesn't turn to look at you. Momentarily released from his dark gaze, you take the opportunity to observe him. His hair is more rumpled from your tugging and the mis-buttoned shirt you noticed earlier is nearly completely unbuttoned from your groping. His chest is moving rapidly up and down with his breathing, making the ab muscles you were so recently fingering stand out against his shirt. Your eyes travel lower. They come to rest on the bulge against his zipper. He's aroused. The hardness you'd felt earlier against your stomach is now much more pronounced. It's practically bursting through the seam of his dark jeans. Of its own accord, your left hand moves to touch him. Slowly, you watch as you get closer to the part of him that is still a mystery. Just as your hand is about to make contact, you hear him speak, "Don't, if you touch me now I'll have your short little skirt pulled up around your waist and have you bent over the hood of this car with my cock shoved up your sweet little pussy before you can fucking blink" He growls roughly, his eyes never leave the road. Your hand lands back in your lap as if it has been burned. You weren't expecting such harsh language. You also weren't expecting such language to turn you on.

You knew where this was likely headed when you allowed him to drag you out of the bar, knew that you wanted to continue touching his body and longed to have him touch yours. You understood that once you tasted him you would be addicted to it, needing it as badly as a junkie needing a score. The tanginess of the beer he'd consumed still on your tongue. You lick your lips and taste the saltiness of the peanuts he'd been eating at that bar. You moan at the memory of his lips sliding across yours, tugging gently as he coaxed your mouth open to allow his tongue access to your mouth. Your hand reaches up to rub against your lips, reliving the feel of his on your mouth. Your legs rub together looking for the friction that will give you relief from the burning need to feel him between your thighs, filling you, moving within you in long hard thrusts. So caught up in the moment you don't notice the car has stopped in front of an apartment building. He's staring wide eyed at you from his seat, you blush at being caught thinking such x-rated thoughts about this beautiful stranger. You look away from him. He grabs your chin and forces your face up to his. His eyes bore into yours, their intensity shocking. "I don't know what this is between us. I've never felt anything like it before. "He pauses, licks his lips and continues. "But if you don't want this, if you don't want me, say it now and I'll take you back to the bar. Because if you get out of this car, I'm going to take you to my bed and make you scream in pleasure until you're hoarse."

He's given you a choice. Stay and you'll go back to the safety of the bar, the caring arms of your friends. The boring, unsatisfying life you were leading. Get out of the car and take your chances with a strange man you've known for less than an hour. A man that in one sentence made your whole body shiver in need, who has touched you intimately and has allowed you to touch him. A man you know will make good on his promise to make you scream as he brings you to pleasure over, and over again...

"Ok, I'll take you back." he says quietly, disappointment and hurt in his voice. He's mistaken your silence for rejection. This gorgeous man who has made you feel more alive in the last hour than you have ever felt in your 21 years on this planet thinks you don't want him. "Fix this!" Your body screams. "Yes, fix this!" Your mind yells back. He reaches for the ignition.

You open the car door.

You did it! You opened the door. You let him know you want him that you feel the same thing he does. For the past 21 years you've done everything expected of you. Graduated with honors from Forks high school, you maintain a 3.5 GPA at the University of Washington. You don't do drugs, the Chief has never had to come and bail his only daughter out of jail for drunken disorderedly. All of the guys you've dated (all three of them) were good boys who were kind, considerate, respectful, boring, dull, unimaginative and decidedly un-sexy. None of those boys made your body burn and heartbeat speed at the merest touch or one glance from stunning green eyes. Not once did they entice you to throw caution to the wind and allow your body to force your overly cautious mind to let go and feel.

You've waited 21 years for this. Waited to feel the fireworks, the butterflies, the indescribable longing to have a dazzling stranger touch you. How many nights of unbearable groping sessions have you suffered through to get here? How many nights have you lain in your bed wishing for something more than the pressure and feel of your own fingers to give you an orgasm? How long have you waited to feel your lover's body shudder inside yours as you both reach climax together? Too many, too long, you want this, you need this and you fucking deserve this!

"Were you planning to get out of the car or did you want to do this here in the parking lot?" Your head jerks up at his voice. The deep and smooth sound startles you out of your wishful trance. "I'm game if you are, though I think a nice firm bed might be a bit more comfortable for what I have in mind." His words are punctuated with that sexy half smirk/smile thing he does and a raised eyebrow.

You can do nothing but stare at those plump, red lips. You remember how soft then firm they become when pressed against your mouth. You recall the feel of his tongue as it rubbed and slid against yours. In your haze, you feelyour tongue slowly slide out and lick your bottom lip. God, his taste still lingers on your mouth. Without thinking, you jump out of the car. Startled, he steps back. You grab his forearms tightly and pull him towards you, smashing your lips against his. "Yes!" you sigh as his mouth assaults yours. The sensation just as amazing as you remembered. A hungry groan escapes him, the desperate sound emboldens you. Your hands grip his arms harder, forcing his body closer. The need to have him pressed tightly against your body is overwhelming. You welcome the pressure of his chest as it rubs against your breasts; your nipples tighten at the sensation. You feel the muscles in his arms tense a moment before you're pushed back against the car; his strong hands grasp the cheeks of your butt, hungrily kneading your pliant flesh. This time you take the initiative thrusting your tongue into his mouth. Your tongues duel for superiority, sliding and pushing against each other. Your breath intermingles with his, your lips are slick with his saliva, if he wasn't the sexiest man you've ever seen and if this wasn't the most erotic kiss you've ever felt, you might be grossed out. But he is and it is so you kiss him harder. Abruptly he pulls away, "Inside. Now!" he growls. The car door slams and once again you're being pulled across another parking lot.

He doesn't say a word as he tugs you up the stairs to what you assume is his apartment. You find yourself admiring the view as you ascend the staircase. You'd already noticed his long legs and broad shoulders at the bar. You've touched the muscles on his back and caressed the strong tendons at the sides of his neck but you'd missed touching his ass, oh my god his ass. How did you overlook that masterpiece? How were you able the restrain yourself from permanently leaving the indentions of your fingers on those sweet cheeks, forever claiming them as your own? Your hands move forward, preparing to rectify the "ass situation", your fingers bent, ready to squeeze.

The sound of keys jingling breaks your concentration. Grudgingly you remove your eyes from the splendor that is his butt and raise your face to his face. Dark emerald eyes meet yours. Their intensity is unnerving. You force your eyes away from his and peek inside his home. You notice a well beaten couch and two new looking recliners facing a large screen T.V. There's a rug on the floor in front of the couch. Perhaps the remnants of a 'boy's night', beer cans and pizza boxes litters the coffee table and floor. The mess makes you chuckle. It's nice to know that he's just like any other 20 something guy.

He's breathing heavily as he watches you, his nostrils flare with each breath. His face is tight and he almost looks as if he's in pain. You want to ask him what's wrong but before you can utter a sound, he speaks his voice gravely with need, "This is your last chance. If you come in here there's no going back." His eyes get impossibly darker as he continues, "I will touch, lick and suck every part of your body." His hand rises to brush back and forth across his chin. The tip of his tongue darts out to lick his bottom lip, "I'll have your taste in my mouth for days." He moves closer and puts both hands at your waist, his fingers clenching on the tender skin. His voice lowers as he whispers into your ear, "I am going to fuck you until you beg me to stop and then I'll fuck you some more. You'll be sore for days. Do you understand?" His eyes bore into yours, their dark depths probing into your soul. You're spellbound by his words and incapable of looking away from his eyes. Beg him to stop? Sore for days? Just the thought weakens your knees and you struggle to stay upright. You moan as his hands tighten at your waist, holding you still. He chuckles darkly, "Does that mean yes?" he demands. "Yes. Yes!" you exclaim breathlessly, your chest heaving in anticipation of what he's promised. "Good." He whispers and pulls you into the dark room and shuts the door.

You don't have a moment to comprehend what you've agreed to before finding yourself slammed up against the wall next to the door. In a heartbeat his mouth attacks yours in a commanding kiss. His lips bruising as he assaults your mouth. His hands reach down to the bottom of your skirt, slowly inching the fabric up. His demanding touch brands your skin as his fingers move up your body. "So soft." he groans as he touches the tops of your thighs. "So hot." He exclaims, his fingers skimming over the top of your overheated pussy. You shudder as his fingers playfully toy with your cloth covered lips. His fingers dig deeper into your center, their up and down movement forces the cotton fabric of your panties deeper into your crease. The action causes jolts of pleasure to blast through your system as he grazes the bundle of nerves at the top of your needy center.

Grasping his shoulders, you struggle in a vain attempt to regain a little composure. You feel his knowing smirk against your mouth. For a moment you want to slap him for his arrogance. But that would necessitate letting go of him and that would be impossible right now.

"I know what you need." He whispers into your mouth. "I'm going to give it to you. And you're going to love it." He abruptly releases your lips, and you take the first unhindered breath since he first attacked your mouth. His nose skims the line of your jaw to the bottom of your ear. "Don't move" he rasps into your ear as he grasps both of your wrists in his left hand. He pushes them above your head, the action forces you to arch your back, pushing your chest closer to his. Your nipples strain against the satin of your bra. He hurriedly throws off the hastily buttoned plaid shirt revealing a white short sleeved t-shirt. It stretches and pulls over his muscular chest and abdomen with his movements. You have no time to admire the view before his right hand moves to the top of your panties and dances across the lace edging; your breathing becomes irregular as his fingers descend into your heat. "Fuck, you're so wet" he exclaims. A startled moan escapes you as he rips your panties off and throws them to the floor where they land on top of his discarded shirt.

"Much better." He mumbles, his hot breath burns your ear as he nibbles your lobe. His probing fingers slide effortlessly around your labia, your slickness easing his way. Your breathing increases as does the pressure of his fingers. "Ahhh" a tortured moan escapes you as one of his fingers enters you. Your arms move from their position at your head to grab his shoulders. "No!" He commands. His finger stops its exquisite torture between your legs. "Don't move your arms or I'll stop. Do you understand?" The tone of his voice leaves no room for misunderstanding. Quickly, you move your hands back to their position at your head, the effort to keep them there taxes your muscles yet you do it lest he stop his movements.

You have a second to reflect on your actions when you feel another finger join the first. Your pussy stretches to accommodate his fingers; their length and width fill you to the point of pain. "So tight, so damn tight." His words are whispered harshly against your cheeks. "I can't wait any longer." His voice a hurried mixture need and pain. "I need you now. Right fucking now!" His words are punctuated by the sound of his zipper being lowered. His mouth returns to your lips. They bruise with their demand for you to open and allow him entrance. He removes his fingers from your aching center to once again grasp your waist. You have only seconds to miss their presence before his strong arms lift you up, "Put your legs around my waist." He demands harshly. You obey. Your thighs tighten upon his naked hips, your ankles crossed at the center of his taunt ass.

A square of foil appears under your nose, its purpose unmistakable. Your eyes rise and are met with the brilliance of his green orbs. They spark with his need, his desire for you. "Are you ready?" He asks waving the condom in front of your face. The realization that with one word you can end this takes you back to reality. With one word you can leave; go back to your friends, back to your empty and lonely nights. You can forget him. Forget his brilliant green eyes and unruly copper hair. Forget his devastating smile and long fingers. You can go back to wondering what it would feel like to be in the arms of a man like him. Everything changes with one word.


He doesn't speak as he shifts positions and leans you farther back against the wall. Your body balances on his thighs, his hands come down from your waist to the juncture where your bodies meet. You watch his face, his eyes have darkened to almost black and his beautiful jaw tenses with his concentration. His hand reaches down into his pants, he unbuttons and lowers them the movement jostles you and you lower your arms, your hands instinctively reach to his shoulders for stability, fingers clenching the strong muscles there. For a second you wonder if he'll be angry. You've disobeyed him again by removing your hands from the wall. Will he punish you? Do you want him to?

All thoughts are forgotten with the sound of the condom package ripping. Your eyes dart down and you watch breathlessly as he pulls out his penis. You can feel your eyes widen as you take in his size. The round head is a dark plum color with drops of opaque liquid dripping from the slit at the tip. He palms himself and pumps his cock twice before expertly sliding on the condom.

He's large, too large. Your breathing turns to panting as you think about the logistics of what you're about to do. Instinctively your lower body tenses in defense.

You feel his hand on your thigh; he's rubbing soothing circles into your skin, "Shhh" he croons, "I won't hurt you." You know that's not true. Your novice vagina will be no match for him. Mike's penis was tiny compared to what this man is about to invade your body with. And you're pretty sure that the one time you relented and let Mike stick his miniscule member in you, in no way prepared you enough to accommodate the size and girth of this gorgeous stranger's cock.

You look into his eyes, they're pleading for your trust and consent. You're lost in his emerald globes. There's no denying him or yourself. You want this, whatever the cost. You nod and he swoops in for a deep kiss, his covered and erect cock poking into your stomach. With one fluid motion you're picked up and pulled down onto him. A gasp escapes you as you are fully penetrated by him. "Fuck baby, you're so tight." He moans, his lips returning to yours for another burning kiss. Your muscles clench as they grip him. His kisses bruise your mouth as surely as his thrusts are bruising your vagina. Your back instinctively arches away from the intrusion but it only forces your pelvis tighter against his, jolts of pleasure shoot through your body as his pelvic bone hits your clit with each one of his hurried thrusts.

"I wanted you the minute I saw you staring at me in the bar" He raggedly announces, his mouth moving slowly down until he rests in the crook of your shoulder. "You looked so innocent and so god damn sexy. I knew it would be like this." His breathing echoes yours in it's hurried pace. Your head falls back to the wall; his harsh movements forcing your skull to brush painfully over the harsh texture of the paint. It hurts but the pain is a worthy trade for the pleasure you feel pulsing through your greedy cunt.

Your breathing becomes impossibly faster as you feel the tidal wave of sensation rise in your heaving body. Your hands grip him tighter, your nails digging into his skin through the fabric of his shirt as you feel your vaginal walls begin to clench. "I know baby. Let go." He croons. Your legs tighten around him as his hard cock pounds your defenseless body, driving your pleasure higher as the head of his cock hits a spot inside you that before now you'd considered a myth, your g-spot. "Ahh, ahh" you scream as he relentlessly pounds into you. You scream as your body finds its release. Your pussy spasms around his hard length, your body sags against the wall. "Ah, so good. So damn good." He groans as he grips your waist tighter. He thrusts several more times before finding his own climax. You feel the pulsing of his cock deep inside you as he fills the condom with his release.

Slowly your legs come down from their perch atop his hips. Unable to hold your weight you wilt against him, your muscles useless after your draining orgasm. "I've got you sweetheart." He chuckles into your ear as his arms support you. He kisses your neck before reaching down and sliding his now flaccid member out of your spent body. You cringe slightly at the brief pain of his departure. "Can you stand on your own?" He asks. You nod weakly. He smiles as he releases you and throws the condom in a nearby trash can. You watch as he slides his jeans and briefs back up to his waist. He leaves them undone and turns back to you. Your hand reaches out to caress his cheek and you notice the faint sheen of perspiration on his chiseled jaw. He turns his head and places a kiss in the middle of your palm. After the heated sex you've just experienced with this man you're slightly taken aback by the soft gesture, you feel yourself smiling at him. He smiles that crooked grin you've come to love and reaches out to embrace you. His kisses soft and sweet compared to the bruising and demanding kisses of a moment ago.

You wince as your feet remind you which shoes you're wearing. He pulls back, "What's wrong? Did I hurt you?" the alarm evident in his tone. "Oh, no" you exclaim quickly, not wanting him to regret the most amazing experience you've ever had. "It's my feet. I don't think these shoes were designed for rough wall sexing with a fuck hot stranger." Your eyes widen at your words. "Shit" You think, looking around for a whole to crawl into. He laughs. "Fuck hot stranger huh?" You blush and nod. Why deny it? He laughs again and then hunches down at your feet. He takes your right foot and slowly frees it from its six inch heeled, prison. "Why didn't you tell me you were in pain?" his strong hands gently massage your foot, encouraging the blood to flow back into your abused foot.

"I forgot about it." You answer him, moaning at the pleasure. He looks at the angry red mark across your instep and looks up at you with a raised eyebrow. "I forgot everything else once you touched me." You further explain. He nods in understanding and kisses your battered instep. Once again, the gentleness of this man surprises you. You gape in wonder as he repeats the massage and kiss with your other foot. Satisfied that you have regained the use of your feet, he releases them and stands back up to face you. You've just allowed this man inside your body, he's given you more pleasure in one hour than you've experienced in your entire life yet you are still left speechless by his beauty. You're staring at him when he asks, "Will you stay the night?"

"Stay the night?" Your sex addled brain repeats. A stranger, a gorgeous, hot as hell, kind and respectful stranger just asked you to spend the night with him, you, Isabella Swan, have just had mind blowing sex with a stranger who wants to you to stay the night. You know this is wrong. You know all of the reasons to say no. Rosalie and Alice will be frantic with worry. Charlie would blow a gasket knowing you were even contemplating such a stupid act. Not to mention how disappointed he would be that you didn't heed any of his warnings about going off with strange men. Though you doubt even Charlie would have been able to deny this strange, beautiful man, especially after being kissed by said man. You shake your head and grimace, wanting to remove that image forever.

"It's OK, I just, I don't want you to leave yet. I understand, I'll take you home." You can hear the dejection in his voice. He lowers his head and begins to re-button his jeans. "NO" Your tired and oh so satisfied body screams.

He reaches around and pulls open the door beside you. "Stop him! We want to do that sex thing again." Your mind shouts. They're right; you can't just walk away from him. There's more to explore, more to find out about him. Why him? Why does he elicit such behavior from you? Why is it his touch that sends shivers down your spine when no others touch has even come close? And god help you but you want to have sex with him again. "Wait" you cry. Your hand reaches out and grabs his stopping him from walking out of the room. "It's, um, I, ahh", your fevered mind searches for the words to form the questions you need to have answered. You start with the most pressing, "What's your name?"

"Edward" He answers a bit bewildered. "OK." You nod as you absorb the information. "I'm Bella", you tell him. "Bella, that's a beautiful name." His eyes crinkle as he says it, stressing the first syllable so it sounds like, Beeella.

He starts for the door again, your grip on his hand tightens and you move in front of him, blocking the door. "Beautiful Bella, I can't get you home if you won't let me leave the apartment." "I know." You state. For a moment the two of you stand staring at each other, neither one making a move. Finally he speaks, "Bella, if you want to stay you're going to have to make the decision. But if you do, make sure you understand that I'm going to make good on all of my earlier promises." He licks his lips after the last word and hungrily rakes his eyes down your body.

You quiver in anticipation and shut the door.