A/N: This was written for Twilighted's Smut Monday. It's just a bit of light, smexy fun while I work out this little bit of SLM writers block.
I had so much fun writing this. Thanks to KK for the prompt "clandestine", and thanks to Singlestrand and Alex for their fabulous beta skills. Enjoy!
"Comfortable?" A low, deep voice, laced with amusement, startled me out of my reverie.
"Ahh!" I clapped my hand over my mouth to stop myself from giving away my location, nearly jumping three feet off the ground and scrambling to see who had spoken.
"Wh-what are you doing here?" I whisper-shouted. I wasn't expecting anyone to be in this hidden spot, my refuge from the chaos that reigned just a few yards away.
The guy, that voice I would know anywhere, chuckled softly, both eerie and oddly exciting in the near-black canopy of branches that formed my favorite getaway.
"I was here first," he pointed out. "What are you doing here?"
"I hate parties." I shrugged, even though he probably couldn't see me in the dim light. It was nearly sunset, only a few weak, gold-tinged sunbeams filtered in through the leaves of the huge willow I - we - were under.
He only hummed an answer, seeming to agree. I heard the slosh of liquid against glass, a shadow of movement as I tried to adjust my eyes to the dark, but whoever this was, he was sitting in the darker shadows, by where the back of the garden shed and the fence met.
"Who are - what is your name?" I corrected myself, thinking the latter question sounded more polite, and feigning ignorance.
"That probably should have been your first question, considering you're hiding out in the dark with a stranger." His voice was rich and velvety, maybe more so because we were still speaking in hushed tones. The amusement in his voice betrayed the attempt at an ominous warning.
I snorted at the implication of danger, this isolated, gated beach community was as safe as my dinky home town, safer probably, since there wasn't likely to be random bear attacks here.
I heard him take a sip, the liquid sloshing against the glass again. There was a soft sucking sound, his lips on a bottle maybe?
"It's me, Edward Cullen." He finally answered, "Jasper's my friend. And you are Bella Swan, Alice's friend."
My heart began thumping in my chest as soon as he confirmed his name, Of course I knew who he was. The best friend of my best friend's brother. I'd seen him all summer, mostly at a distance, reddish brown hair bleached bronze by the sun, always messy, tanned muscled chest and arms, always bare or framed by a tank, flashing green eyes and beautiful full lips in a perpetual smirk, like he was always thinking something naughty.
Yeah, I'd noticed him once or twice. He occasionally even acknowledged my existence, turning that perfect smirk my direction when he'd catch me staring. I figured he was just a flirt, not that he'd noticed much beyond the mousy girl, pale and ordinary friend of his best friend's sister.
"Yeah," I said, feeling lame. My usual awkwardness set in and I had no idea what else to say. I was suddenly conscious of the fact that I was only dressed in the ridiculous blue bikini and matching cover up Alice insisted I wear today. I was grateful for the darkness.
My eyes adjusted slightly finally, and I could just make out the outline of his unkempt hair, the line of his jaw, the one hand he raised to beckon me over.
"Care for a drink, I'll share..." There was an odd-shaped shadow in his hand, accompanied by the same sloshing sound, only faster, like he was swirling it around in the bottle.
"What is it?" I wasn't much of a drinker, and I'd already learned the horrors of tequila this summer.
"Cognac," he said, without any further description.
I blinked. "Cognac? Really?" It was my turn to hide amusement. "Old man much? You have some cigars there too?"
"Whatever," he murmured, "It's wet, and it's getting me drunk. Are you going to join me, Bella." He paused slightly before he said my name, giving it a weighted feeling, Taunting, inviting, alluring.
I rolled my eyes, futile, but it made me feel less like a besotted teenager mooning over her first crush and more like the confident college student I was trying to be. I reached for the bottle, trying to snatch it gracefully out of his hand, but I couldn't see that well, and the bottle was heavier than I expected it to be, and an odd shape. My fingers brushed against his at the neck of the bottle, feeling his slightly wind-roughened skin.
I had to pause to calm my nerves, and paused to sniff the top of the bottle. It smelled warm, rich, made me think of dark paneled libraries and well-worn books. I lifted the bottle to my lips and took a small sip. I'd never had cognac before and didn't know what to expect. The warm burn spread from my neck to my chest, making goose bumps prickle my skin. A small cough escaped, even still.
Edward's rumbling laughter was almost an undercurrent to the warm feeling the cognac had left me with. I held the bottle out blindly. His eyes must have been more adjusted than mine; he took it from me without fumbling. Unexpectedly, his other hand wrapped around my wrist. His long fingers were strong, rough enough to feel manly, but gentle against my own skin.
"There's a bench here, have a seat, Bella." He would have released me, if I pulled even slightly, I could tell by the feel of his grip, and the gentle plea in his voice. I stumbled over my own feet, letting him guide me to a low seat. I had no idea what it really was, it seemed too short to be a real bench. It was wood, slightly rough, enough to make me tug my wrap underneath me as much as possible to avoid slivers in my rear. He guided me to sit close to him, there wasn't much space on this end of the bench. I had to swallow thickly since what I felt brushing against my arms and legs was skin dusted with soft hairs. The crisp material of his swim trunks brushed my hip and thigh. He was warm, as warm as the sun out beyond our secret cave, It wasn't exactly cool in the shade here, but the darkness gave the illusion of cooler temperatures, and I had to resist leaning into him.
"So, Bella Swan," His voice was different now, a little hoarse, "Why don't you like parties? Isn't that the point of being in this wonderful lakeside locale?" I didn't miss the irony in his voice.
"I don't mind parties. I mind overly-friendly frat-puppies," I muttered. I heard Edward sputter and cough.
"Frat-puppies?" I wondered if it was weird that I could hear the smirk on his face.
"Freaking Mike Newton." I spat, then became distracted from the rest of my sentence as his body shifted against mine while he tilted the bottle back to his lips. When his arm returned to his lap, the side of his hand grazed my bare thigh. I tried to convince myself it was accidental.
Edward groaned. "He's a douche." I snorted in agreement. "He doesn't even deserve to breathe the same air as you."
My cheeks flamed so hot I was afraid I would light up our hideaway. Edward didn't seem to notice, but his arm brushed mine again as he offered the bottle back to me. I took another greedy sip, and gasped as my shaking hands made me spill some down my chin and chest.
"Hey, hey, now." Edward complained, taking the bottle away from me while I tried to wipe the liquid from my skin and bikini top, once again glad it was dark. "Don't waste it." His velvety soft whispering voice was teasing.
"Sorry," I whispered back. "It's good."
Edward took another sip. "Fuck yes. Lucky for us, the Hales don't buy the cheap shit."
We were silent for a moment. Freezing together as a crowd of people moved past our location, their tipsy laughter filtering in through the leaves. I could smell the bonfire starting at the beach. The sun would drop behind the horizon very soon. I could only imagine how dark it would be in here, and the thought made me even more aware of the feel of him brushing against me.
"Were you going to go to the bonfire?" I asked. I secretly hoped not. As nervous as I was, I liked being here with him.
"Fuck no," His voice was getting rougher. He wasn't drunk. Buzzed maybe.
"Did you want me to go...leave you alone?"
"No!" His hand closed around my wrist again. "I need...you to help me with Monsieur C here." He sloshed the bottle. "Besides, you know too much now, you might give away the location of my secret lair."
I wouldn't, of course, but I went with it. And the cognac was making me flirty. "This is true. I guess I'm your prisoner now."
"Hmmmm...yes, I guess you are." His voice took a predatory edge. Even though I had shifted back on the small bench, obviously not going anywhere, he still hadn't released my wrist.
"More?" He asked, offering the bottle again, his voice so low and seductive I didn't need the dark, thick liquid to spread warmth inside my body.
"Sure," I whispered, reaching blindly.
"Ah, ah, no way. Not gonna let you waste it this time." He shifted next to me, turning to straddle the bench. He scooted forward until I was practically sitting between his strong legs.
"Tilt your head back..." he whispered, so soft I barely heard him and lifted the bottle to my lips. I tried to keep still, opening my mouth just enough for him to tip the smooth liquor in a slow trickle.
I swallowed, savoring the rich, oak flavor, closing my eyes and humming quietly.
"Jesus..." Edward muttered, exhaling slowly. His warm breath fanned across my neck. The darkness pressed closer, the distant jubilant voices on the beach faded far from my awareness.
"So..." I choked out, my voice breaking, trying to do the same to the tension that suddenly seemed to erupt in the small circle of the tree branches. "Why...why are you hiding under here?"
There was a long silence, a feather light touch at my thigh, a pull at the side of my cover up, he was toying with the tie that was hanging loose at my side.
"Frat-puppies..." He said with a wry tone. "Seems I can mock that wretched Mike Newton, but he's braver than me."
Before I could ponder his words, a peal of bell-like laughter rang just outside our dark cave. We both froze.
"Where's Edward? I haven't seen him all day." One feminine voice whined.
I turned as if to look at him, forgetting he was farther in the shadows and I couldn't see a thing. He seemed to see a bit better, or at least felt my movement, because a long, warm arm snaked around my waist, pulling me against his bare chest, I had no idea where he put the bottle, because the other hand clapped over my mouth and his hot, cognac scented breath was against my ear.
"Shhhhhhh! Not a word, please, Bella!"
I wanted to giggle at the silliness, but all I was aware of was the amount of his skin that surrounded me at the moment. His long legs levered their way underneath mine as he pulled me closer, and the sheer material of my robe did nothing to hide the expanse of bare, hard, well-muscled chest. The hairs tickling my side. His arms completely enclosed me, and his face, the glorious face I'd swooned over all summer, was so close the rough scruff on his jaw scratched my cheek.
"You were going to give me away..." The silkiness of his voice in my ear contradicted the accusing tone of the words.
The chattering eventually faded into the distance and I pulled free enough to talk. "What was that about?" I asked, ready to tease him.
"Bad choices. Not far enough in the past for my taste," he muttered, releasing my face, but not the rest of me. I felt him reach somewhere behind him and pick up the bottle, taking another swig. I wrinkled my nose, I thought I had recognized the voices, Rosalie's cousins. All insults swathed in friendly advice...
"Ew," I said. "I'm sorry. And here I was complaining about Mike."
Edward snorted, pulling a long sip from the bottle again. He wrapped his arm, still holding the bottle, around my waist.
"This, however," he whispered, "might have been once of my best choices. Fuck you feel nice."
My skin warmed, feeling flushed from both the brandy and the words.
"I think I need another drink..." I choked out, my heart thumping erratically in my chest. Warring with getting caught up in his smooth words and keeping my head. I didn't want to think clearly though.
He tilted the bottle, more awkwardly this time to my lips. I wasn't sure if it was because of the darkness or his increasing intoxication, but this time wasn't as smooth as before, more cognac spilling down my chin and chest.
"Ah, shit!" He whispered and I giggled, my arms creeping around his neck just like the warm, fuzzy feeling spreading through my limbs.
When my fingers found the soft hairs at the back of his neck, he froze, leaning his head against my temple.
"Is this okay, Bella?" he asked, his fingers tightening into my hips to emphasize what he meant. "I swear I'm not trying to take advantage of you drunk."
The smirk was in full effect. Even if I couldn't see it, I could hear it. His nose was skimming the outer shell of my ear. I tried to think rationally, like I normally did about boys, like I would have just an hour ago. He was a good guy, gorgeous, smart, funny...my resolve was crumbling.
"I'm not that drunk," I murmured.
"Me either," he mumbled, his face still buried in my hair while my brain and heart were hyperactive, trying to figure out exactly where this was going, and if I wanted it to go there.
"Did...did you want to be?" I remembered his earlier comment.
"I have you on my lap, in a bikini that's torturing me even though I can't even see it. You're warm and soft and feel amazing. After watching you all summer, why would I want to get drunk and miss this?"
"You said..." I couldn't concentrate, his lips were so close to my face, but he hadn't kissed me yet, and I was starting to long for it. No more girlish crush and wistful thinking, I needed to feel his lips on me.
"Maybe my goals have changed."
"What are your goals now?"
"Hmm. Right now, I think my goal is to kiss you, Bella Swan." Even above the hammering of my heart I could hear the slosh and clink of the bottle being set down somewhere, and then both his hands were on me, fingers splayed wide across my back, and I marvelled at how much of me they covered. They just held me there, no pulling, no pushing. He was asking, not taking.
I was grateful for that. For all my crush and fantasies, my cautious nature slowed my acquiescence. I was being seduced, and I resisted it as much as I wanted to surrender to it. Alice's words from earlier, as we dressed for the party, came back to me.
Live a little, Bella. It's summer.
"Yes," I whispered into the dark, into his silhouetted presence, that I felt, and smelled and heard rather than saw. I wanted to taste.
It was his turn to hesitate. His breath stopped as mine inhaled deeply, and I waited, feeling the subtle shift of his weight beneath my legs, the grip of his hands on my back that told me he was moving closer. His nose brushed my cheek, then his lips, until they found my own.
It was merely a graze, the first pass of his lips over mine. At the corner of my mouth, on the opposite side from where he started, he finally stopped and pressed closer. A barely audible groan accompanied a long exhale and his cognac-and-citrus flavored lips parted enough to cover mine.
I wondered what all those other awkward meeting of lips I had ever experienced had been. They weren't kisses. This was a kiss. It was slow, sensual. He sucked gently on my lower lip, the tip of his tongue only barely grazing me. He was savoring. He pulled back with a soft tug, allowing us both to breathe.
"God, Bella, 've wanted to do that all summer..."
I felt his fingers grip me tighter, the pads of his fingers, not rough, but not soft either, digging into my ribs.
"Do you want another drink?" he asked. He hadn't released me at all, his forehead resting against mine. Moonlight was beginning to stream through the leaves, I could see just the silhouette of his eyelashes.
"Are you trying to get me drunk?"
"Are you going to let me kiss you again."
Live a little. "Yes."
This time I initiated the kiss. My fingers dug into his messy hair and I anchored my whole body to him, finding his lips and swallowing the groan he gave. I couldn't compare this kiss to the last one. It wasn't better, it wasn't not better. I filed it in its own category. My lips parted of their own accord and his tongue was velvet against mine.
What is this? Semi-drunk party make-out session? Summer fling? New boyfriend?
It's just good. Sort it out tomorrow.
And he's an amazing kisser. And his hands are...
His hands were moving, long fingers caressing my torso, almost tickling, but it felt too good to laugh. They paused just below my bikini top, just grazing the slippery material. My back arched instinctively, a silent, open invitation punctuated by the squeezing of my thighs against his hips and the slow grind of my hips against his. His swim trunks did nothing to hide his response to my movement.
"Bellaaa." His voice was hushed, but rough, and his hands accepted my invitation. First his thumbs sweeping over my top, sliding easily until they found my nipples, already apparently trying to force their way through the fabric. He brushed his thumbs back and forth, making me quiver. He hummed against my lips, sounding pleased at my reaction. His lips moved down over my chin, over my neck. My head fell back, stretching to feel his lips over as much of me as possible.
I had to move my hand to grip his shoulders, leaning back, afraid to lose my balance. His right hand released my breast, circling back around my back when he felt my weight shift.
"I have you..." he whispered, his lips never leaving my skin. I still could only barely make out the outline of his face, his hair in the filtered moonlight. It was so dark, and our self-imposed silence, unspoken insistence that we avoid discovery made my body feel hypersensitive, yearning for the sensory input I was missing from my eyes and ears.
His tongue traced my collarbone, dipped into the little hollow at the base of my neck, muffling a moan by sucking on my skin there.
"Fuck. Bella and cognac."
He pushed me back against his arm and his mouth followed the sticky trail left by the spilled brandy. My head was swirling, caught up in his seduction, my unimpaired senses filled with him. My fingers found his hair again, combing through as he licked and sucked at the swell of my breast. His nose brushed my skin, into the hollow between my breasts, nudging the decorative knot in the suit. I felt his heated breath blow out quickly against my suddenly feverish body.
"Bella?" he croaked out, so quietly I could barely hear him. His arm behind me trembled. "Is this okay, I know we're kinda drunk, and this is fast, but you're...and you taste...and I can't..." His mouth never left me as he stumbled over his words,
My fingers tightened in his hair. I was so caught up in his spell, overcome with lust, all I could breathe out, just as quietly, was a low, strangled 'yes'.
Hearing that, he hummed the quietest growl, his tongue flattening against my sternum and dragging along my skin.
"Jesus, Bella, only you could improve on the taste of twenty five year old cognac..."
He sat up quickly, pulling me to his chest, brushing my hair out of my face and kissing me fiercely, but quickly, holding me tight to his body and sliding backwards along the bench several inches. The movement ground us together in the most delicious way. The slick material of our swimwear causing us to rub together, and even though there were two layers of the fabric between us, I could feel the heavy, defined ridge of his erection pressing against my slit and grinding against my clit. I had no idea why he had moved back, and it seemed for a moment he forgot, too, as we both swallowed moans and purposely thrust against each other, looking for more friction.
He moved his hands to my arms, dragging his lips reluctantly away from mine. I gave a slightly embarrassing whimper of disapproval.
"I want to try one thing..." he whispered.
"What?" I asked, thrilled by my eloquence.
"Lay back, I have you..." His hand was on my back again, steadying me as he pushed me backwards. I tensed, clutching his shoulders, my fingernails digging into his skin, earning a grunt -that didn't sound like pain- before he coaxed me further down. My back hit the wooden bench seat, my thin cover up only offering a slight protection from the rough surface. It was narrow, too, but he balanced me carefully before releasing me. I shivered in pleasure as his hands slid down my body, tracing the curve of my waist and hips, over the tops of my thighs which were still draped over his. I watched through the shadows, his shape darkened by the low light, while he leaned forward over me, his left hand retracing it's path upwards.
He reached below me with his right hand, sitting up quickly, holding the cognac bottle to the side, the moonlight glinted off the bevelled surface. He removed his other hand from where it had been at my waist - his thumb had been brushing back and forth along my stomach - and I missed his touch immediately.
I watched, fascinated, as he removed the cap from the bottle, and then followed the movement of his hands as he lowered until the opening hovered just over my stomach.
"Hold still," he murmured. "Don't move..."
And ever so slowly, he tilted the bottle until I felt a slow trickle of the cool liquid hit the spot between my breasts, running in a rivulet beneath the band of my bikini top and down my stomach to pool at my navel.
I didn't even notice when he put the bottle down. All I could feel was his hot, wet mouth, licking and lapping at the cognac, moaning grunts of approval, while my skin felt like it lit on fire. He started at my belly button, and then caught every drop as he worked his way back up.
"Oh, god..." I breathed out. Heat and wetness making my suit even more slippery between my legs, my hips strained as I looked for friction, but I couldn't get any in this position. The higher his lips traveled on my body the tighter I clutched at his arms and chest, trying to pull myself to him.
With a growl, he bit at the knot. "In the way.." he muttered. He must have realized it was just decorative because his hands crept up my body and yanked the cups of my bikini down, making my breasts bounce free and my nipples tingle and harden at the exposure to air.
He wasted no time, catching the last of the cognac on my skin. The rough stubble on his cheek teased and tickled me before he finally -and I mean finally - turned his attention to the sensitive flesh. His tongue soothed the flesh while he traced a path to my nipple before enveloping it fully between his lips.
In another dizzying motion he picked me up and settled me back on his lap, switching to my other nipple, making me sigh with relief at the contact. He drew deeply and our hips found our rhythm again.
"This is torture," he whispered faintly against my skin. "I want to see you, hear you..." I felt his frustration. My summer fantasy was coming true, and I was missing half the sensory input. I slipped my hands between us, feeling bolder by the lust and alcohol in my system. I found my way by touch, over his chest and stomach, finding the dips and definition, feeling the quivering as my hands moved lower and lower.
"I know," I whispered. "I don't think...we can't...someone will see."
His mouth left my breast, quickly covering my mouth instead, kissing me hard and urgently.
"We might be able to sneak inside-I don't really care if anyone sees us go to the house - I just don't want to share this right now. Too much time wasted already."
"Stay. Here," I responded between kisses, and silently we seemed to agree that no more words were necessary.
He kept one large, warm hand on my hip, pulling me down and against him, rocking together in a slow but intense rhythm, and I could feel him throb each time the head of his cock pressed back and forth against my clit. His other hand found its way back to my breast, enveloping and pressing, my hard nipple tracing designs on the palm of his hand.
My skin was buzzing with his touch, feeling his fingers trace the outline of my suit, over the curve of my hip to the inside of my thigh, His breath caught and shuddered as he got closer to my wetness, no doubt finding the moisture that was soaking my bikini. He angled me back slightly, still not moving from my lips, creating a new angle for our grinding, and slid two long fingers beneath the fabric. They passed over my clit, pressing, not enough, and I whimpered into his mouth, The corners of his mouth pulled up, breaking the intensity of our kiss, but no words were spoken until he'd covered the space from my lips to my ear in kisses. His hand below moved at the same tortuous pace, sliding between my wet lips and grazing my opening.
"Ohh Bella." His mouth was directly against my ear, speaking so softly, but directly, as if his voice was burning the words into my brain. "Don't worry, beautiful, I'm going to take care of you..."
I sagged against him, resting my head in his neck as he continued to whisper breathless encouragement into my ear. When he slid two fingers into me, my mouth opened against his neck in a silent moan, I couldn't even be embarrassed by the squeak that escaped. He just hummed in approval and curled his fingers inside me, sliding them slowly in and out.
"Fuck, Bella, you feel so perfect...I need to see you like this. It's like I'm addicted now."
My insides were fluttering, his fingers pinched my nipple just as he pressed deeply against some secret spot deep inside me. Suddenly I was writhing on his lap, he had to move his hand off my breast to hold me to him.
"Edward!" I breathed in a strangled gasp, locking my mouth to his shoulder to prevent myself from screaming out. My hands clutched at him as I came, looking for purchase, but the only grip I could find was on his fingers deep inside me. He'd stopped moving, just holding me there as I rode out my orgasm.
"Shit, that was unbelievably sexy," Edward said, his own breath panting against my ear and neck. As I slowly came down from my high, my hands were more successful at touching him, tracing over his muscles again, finding the small trail of hair leading down from his navel. My fingers dipped beneath the waistband of his swim trunks, and it was my turn to smile against his skin as I felt the tremor of anticipation roll through him.
"My turn..." I mouthed against his neck, tasting the salty flavor of him as I licked and sucked at his skin. His fingers were still caressing my sensitive flesh, but they faltered and lost their rhythm when I finally touched him. He was hard, and heavy, and silky. I wrapped my hand around him and he buried his face in my hair, his hand now just holding me to him, the one leaving damp trails from my own wetness. I could only focus on how he felt then, though. The twitch-throb as my thumb grazed over the thick head, finding drops of moisture there, the way I could feel the smooth texture, the hard ridge sliding against my palm as I stroked him up and down. And my ears were filled with the string of curse words and a litany of my name chanted over and over.
"Fuck, Bella.." His mouth was directly at my ear again, his voice pleading through the hoarse whisper. "I know...I shouldn't...but god... Can I please be in you...I can't stop thinking of how you felt on my fingers, and the way you touch me."
I paused only for a moment. A summer's worth of secret glances and fantasies that led to this moment. Could I seize this moment?
"Please, Bella..." he begged. "I promise... I want you more than anything, and not just for this moment. Forgive me for being so greedy..."
I melted, almost literally, There probably wasn't much I wouldn't do for this man at this moment. I brought my lips to his ear this time, my own voice as ragged and hoarse as his.
"Yes, I need to feel you, Edward."
His cock throbbed heavily in my hand and I wondered for a moment if he was going to cum, but he just trembled beneath me, his legs shaking slightly as he regained control. Then suddenly, almost in a rush, he pulled my hand from him, leaning back slightly and yanking down the front flap of his trunks, trying to free as much of himself as he could, then his hand was pulling at my bikini bottoms, only shifting the slippery material to the side.
"I'd undress you, but just in case..." He laughed slightly into my ear.
"We'll do that next time..." I whispered back.
"God, Bella. Fuck! Yes..." He nearly exclaimed out loud, lifting me by my hips and guiding his cock to my opening, He slipped once through my lips, hitting my clit directly with the head of his dick this time, making us both gasp, then slid back and repositioned himself and thrust up at the same time my body took over and slammed myself down.
Our mouths locked together, a subconscious effort to silence each other as he filled and stretched me, or maybe we just needed to be connected in every way possible. I could feel the thick ridge of his cock pressing, rubbing against that same spot inside that his fingers found earlier, and my whole body was tensed in anticipation of the building sensation. He lifted and pressed me down, each time grinding into my clit as it would hit his pubic bone. We didn't have much leverage, so the grinding motion persisted, and it was more than effective. Silent moans were caught between our lips and tongues. I buried my fingers into his hair, gripping and pulling and noting the echoing throb of his cock inside me. His hands found their way to my breasts again, circling and pinching at my nipples.
That extra sensation drove me over the edge, like a circuit of electricity finally completed, each point serving to fuel the flash of light behind my eyelids and the crashing wave of my orgasm. His grunted in response, shaking his head minutely under the grip of my fingers, and I tried to loosen them, instead holding his head to me, as I writhed and fell into the whirlpool of sensation.
And like gravity, I pulled him over the edge with me. He dropped his lips from mine to muffle his sounds into my breasts. His hips thrust up and then stilled as he spilled his release into me, the throbbing and twitching nearly sending me over the edge again, heightening the aftershocks of my own orgasm.
We clung to each other, still trembling from the force of our combined passion. It took a long time to catch our breaths, his fingers lightly tickling my sides as we grew more coherent.
I hid my face against his neck, feeling a little shy now, and his shoulders shook as with silent laughter as he tried to pull me back. He wasn't mocking - it was a contented sound.
We both froze as we became aware of the party outside of our private domain. The crowd was still enjoying the bonfire it seemed, shouts and music coming from the direction of the beach.
Wordlessly, Edward straightened my suit, tucking my breasts back into the cups with a kiss to each nipple. I tried to move, but he just held me still. After fixing his own clothes, he gathered me back in his arms.
"Fuck, you smell like cognac and sex now...but I want to see you this time. Think we can make a break for it now?"
I just smiled into the darkness and grabbed his hand. Summer vacation just got better.
Thanks for reading!