Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight; all respective characters belong to Stephenie Meyer.
The Art of Seduction, or Something Like That:
[The Not-So-Unfortunate Events of Bella Swan]
Sex. Sex. Sex. That is all I can think about lately. I am convinced there is something really wrong with my brain - no really, I think some mechanism in there has tripped, supplying my body with a disproportionate amount of hormones or some shit. There is this insatiable need constantly nagging at me. All. Of. The. Time. I will wake up from a dead sleep, my loins literally burning, and I just need it.
"I don't understand what you're saying."
I roll my eyes at Rose; she stares back at me, straight-faced. "He doesn't like to do it."
Her nose wrinkles, her eyes searching the room as if she is missing something. "What? Say it again," she huffs, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her perfect ear. I always envied those ears; she had multiple piercings before we were even out of high school. I wasn't allowed, but the first week of college she took me to get my cartilage pierced and that shit was freeing. It hurt like a motherfucker, but it was a sweet release of self-decision that I hadn't been used to. I now have three holes in each ear, cartilage in my right ear, and my belly button pierced. I am toying with the idea of getting my tongue done next.
"He. Just. Doesn't. Do. It." I drawl out slowly.
"That sentence makes no sense. What guy doesn't like to do it?"
I shrug, frustration simmers at my skin. I have no clue, I thought the same exact thing, but it was a bitter reality. "I dunno Rosie, but I have to figure this shit out, it is eating away at my soul."
I bite into my tongue as soon as I catch her expression. She barks out a laugh, nudging my shoulder with her palm. "Well at least something's getting eaten!"
"Shut up, bitch," I chastise with a chuckle and nudge her back. Her expression slides listlessly into a stone cold mask, and if I didn't know Rose like the back of my hand, I would have shivered from it.
"Did you really just push me?"
I shake my head, scooting away from her on the bed. I'm not fast enough, and she grips my ankles, yanking my feet out from under my body. I fall flat on my back against the mattress and she doesn't wait a beat before she pins my hands down, her knees digging into my legs. "You now have to pay my dear, sweet Bella." She smiles wickedly, her blue eyes sparkling at me.
Squirming beneath her, I try to free at least one hand, but this whore is strong, and I can barely lift my arms. "You are freakishly strong," I grunt, and she throws her head back in a mock villainess laugh.
"The more you squirm, the longer you'll stay here Bells," she chants.
I go limp, trying to hold back the laugh that is bubbling in my throat. She catches me off guard by running her nose along the side of my neck, sending a quiver down my spine.
"Would you like me to do it for you B?" She whispers, blinking down at me - somehow making her eyes look like the sweetest baby doe. I pity whatever man Rose ends up with, and make a mental pact to always be kind to him. Where I would normally push back against her, squeal and say 'NO!', stupid hormones flood my body instead and I actually tingle. What the fuck? I hesitate, not answering, which is enough to slap some shock into Miss Hale.
In turn, surprising me, she hesitates and nervous butterflies flourish in the pit of my stomach. She assesses me, tilting her head slightly and then shakes it with a sigh. "I could never go down on you," she says softly, releasing me and plopping down at my side.
We lay there staring up at the white ceiling of our dorm, so plain, so un-stimulating and our breaths match, slowly in and out. "Why won't he just eat my pussy? Use his fingers, his toe, anything! All I'm asking for is an orgasm. Just one! Well, no, maybe more, but - ughh!" I whine, throwing my arm over my face.
"Have you asked him?"
"No! How the fuck do I ask him that? Thanks so very much for this lovely dinner Edward, now will you kindly take me back to your place and nom on my vag as dessert? …. Yeah, I don't see that happening."
The bed shifts and Rose is chuckling as she shuffles over to our mini fridge, pulling something out before rejoining me on the bed. She drops a half-melted ice cream sandwich on my chest unceremoniously. I peel back the wrapper and bite into the creamy, chocolate heaven, feeling slightly better.
I can pin point exactly when my body turned traitor on me, and decided to behave like a 16-year-old boy; it was the first day of my Chem. lab. I walked into a full room with only one open seat and hastily took it without looking around.
Had I looked around, and taken note of who was to be my lab partner, I would have seen him - sitting so perfect in all his fuckable goodness. I would have known by the hair, by those fingers that he would ruin me, and I would have left the class; turned around and walked straight to the administration office begging for a different lab time slot.
However, I was nervous and being my normal stupid, shy self, so I slipped into my seat without taking in my surroundings. It took one word uttered from his veritably perfect lips to light my insides on fire.
"Here," he whispered, handing me the class syllabus that had already been passed around. I grasped the packet of papers, my eyes fixed on the black against white while his voice continued to reverberate inside my head. The sweet smoothness of his melodic tenor echoed through my bones sinfully.
I glanced up at him, his green eyes staring down at me curiously, swallowing me whole. It took me a moment to realize that the papers still hung in the air awkwardly, and I placed them on the table, clearing my throat, and forcing my focus to the front of the classroom.
The rest of the class, despite my best attempts, I could not pay attention. I could feel him, his aura taunting me as it tickled my skin. As soon as class was over, I jolted from my seat and made to leave the classroom like a bat out of hell. It would have been a dramatic exit, had I pulled it off, but fate hates my guts. Just before I reached the door, my toe caught on the edge of a metal tray table that held several, various glass test tubes.
The splintering pain that ricocheted through my legs was nothing compared to the sound of metal clanging against linoleum, and the consequent shattering of glass. I cringed against the noise, praying for the floor to take pity on me and suck me under. Instead, a firm set of hands helped me up by my arms, and I was forced to face my clumsiness.
"Sorry," I muttered to no one in particular, slinking around the mess and continuing my hasty exit. Attempt two - successful. Or so I thought, but as I took a cleansing breath - the moist outdoor air clinging to my face the moment I stepped outside, a voice was calling my name. My feet halted on their own accord, my body turning toward the sound. I found myself looking at his face, wondering when exactly he implanted a control chip into my brain- my body seeming to respond to him as if on command.
"Bella," he breathed in that damn alluring voice. "Are you okay?"
"How did you know my name?" I shot at him, and then bit my tongue for my overly harsh tone.
"Um, the roll - the professor called your name before you came in…" he trailed.
"Well, then I'm afraid I'm at a loss as I don't know your name sir." I needed a gun. If I had one, I would have shot myself in the mouth right then and there - it was surely the only way to remove my foot, which I had securely lodged there. Since when the hell did I become a 19th century dignitary - fuck Bella.
He coughed covering a laugh before straightening his features. "Well, my lady - I whole heartedly apologize for my arrogance in the situation. How daft of me to not properly introduce myself, I am Edward Cullen. Son of Esme and Carlisle Cullen." He bowed with a smile, and I fought the urge to either kick him in the balls for mocking me, or kiss him madly for the sexy-as-hell playful attitude.
When I didn't respond, he stood up straight, pulling at the edge of his flannel and clearing his throat. "Sorry," he muttered.
"No, you're fine - I'm just debating," I responded, biting into my bottom lip.
"Whether you deserve a hearty nut shot, or a kiss," I replied honestly, earning a full belly laugh from Edward. My insides quivered at the sound of his laugh, and my theory of brain control shifted to super human powers - perhaps he had the ability to render women useless with a single chuckle. Make them self-combust with a sideways glance… it had possibilities. Fate seemed not to loathe me, or at least ignored me for a moment, because by the end of our conversation I had a date for that evening.
"Honestly Bella, I've never met a man that couldn't be swayed." Rose's eyes narrow, bringing me out of my inner musings. "Are you sure you've tried hard enough? What did you wear on your last date?"
My eyes roll, and then roll again. "Oh, no. We are not pinning this on my wardrobe choices."
"Bella. What. Did. You. Wear?"
"I don't know Rose - my clown suit. We were going to the fair, I thought it appropriate," I huff, completely irritated with her line of questioning and the fact that my ice cream sandwich is all gone. She doesn't have to say anything, she just stares, and I know she won't stop boring those eyeballs into me until I supply her a fucking answer. "Jeans and my blue sweater, okay!"
"Bellaaaa," she mutters through her hand, which has been smacked squarely over her face.
"What? It's only clothes Rosalie, if he wanted me that shouldn't matter," I counter, but even I can't deny the uncertainty in my tone.
"Bella, if you're trying to seduce that man then it definitely matters."
My teeth grind sharply together. "He continues to ask me out on dates, why the hell do I have to seduce him? One would gather that he likes me, so why doesn't he want me?"
Rose's expression falls slightly, she shakes her head; loose flowing curls shift softly against her face. "I don't know Bells." Glancing at the clock, she pats my leg gently. "I've got to get to my last class for today, you gonna be okay?"
Lying back, I nod. "Yeah, I'll be fine. Oh!" I perch up onto my elbows, grinning wide. "Is this your class with The Hulk?" My wiggling brows make her giggle, and I think possibly blush. Ha! Rosalie Hale's got it bad.
"Yeah, but it's not like we talk ever. I just stare and appreciate," she sighs, a dreamy expression settling over her face.
"Just put yourself in some sort of peril, and he will undoubtedly save your life. I mean being a super hero and all it's in his job description right? Oh! Do you want me to sneak in and kidnap you in the middle of class? I can borrow a suit from Jasper, and I think I still have that fake curly mustache from Halloween. It'll be very 20's villain-esque, but it should be enough to trip his reflexes." Grinning evilly, I pretend to twirl my invisible mustache.
Rose's expression is priceless, horrified doesn't cover it. Her mouth moves to protest, but she's too stunned to form words.
"Hulk mad!" I growl mockingly, and pound my chest, but laughter bubbles up and takes over. I crumble to the mattress, fighting for air between laughs.
Her brow quirks, only allowing a slight smirk to show, but I know she wants to laugh. "Gee, B, I have no clue why Edward won't sleep with you," she drones sarcastically. "And I'm beginning to believe you did wear a clown suit, you goofy motherfucker." Her façade fails, and laughter spills out swallowing her words.
"Go. You'll be late." I push at her legs. Still laughing, she waves as she slips out the door.
It's Friday, and I only have one class in the morning, so my day is blissfully empty. I grab my iPod and a magazine, snuggling into my bed. The iPod shuffles, a familiar opening beat of Nine Inch Nails' Closer thumps low in my ears. I sigh, skipping over the song.
I flip open my crisp new Vogue magazine as a soft jazzy beat surrounds me. Close your eyes, make a wish, and blow out the candle light- SKIP. How the fuck did Boys to Men on my iPod?
I love myself; I want you to love me. When I feel down, I want you above me. I search myself; I want you to find me. I forget myself; I want you to remind me. I don't want anybody else, when I think about you I touch myself. Oohh ooh ooh- What the fuck? Ripping the ear buds from my ears I scan down the list my iPod was playing, realizing it has a title - Bella needs to get laid playlist.
Scrolling through, I bite my lip to keep from laughing. Closer, I'll Make Love To You, I Touch Myself, Sexual Healing, I Want Your Sex, Dirrty, Turn Off The Lights, You Shook Me All Night, Let's Make Love, Do You Think I'm Sexy, Natural Woman, Wicked Game, Need You Tonight, Afternoon Delight … The list went on and on. I had no clue there were so many songs about sex, 69 on the list to be exact - how ironic.
Putting my ear buds back in I select Joan Jett's Do You Wanna Touch Me, lying flat on my back, a white ceiling filling my vision. My toes twitch to the guitar driven beat, but come on - this is Joan Jett, the song rocks, and before I know it, I'm dancing on my bed, singing at the top of my lungs. It feels fucking great.
"Do you wanna touch. Yeah! Do you wanna touch. Yeah! Do you wanna touch me there? Where? Do you wanna touch. Yeah! Do you wanna touch. Yeah! Do you wanna touch me there? Where?"
The lyrics are cathartic and freeing. I feel like calling Edward by the time it's over, but decide against it. We are supposed to go out tonight anyway; so instead, I sit and formulate a plan.
Since that first day of class, we have gone on approximately ten dates. No. Exactly ten dates. Yes, I've been counting. I was never a big dater in high school, I went on dates occasionally, had a few boyfriends, but mostly I was a self-sufficient happy chick who didn't really need a guy either way. Needless to say, my experience in the actual act of dating is limited. But in my small scope of reference, in addition to Rose's endless tales, I can safely say Edward is the best dater. Ever.
He is unconditionally sweet; any nuance you'd associate with what a guy should do on a date he performs without thought. His actions are seamless; nothing forced. He opens doors, complements me constantly, asks me questions about myself - and actually listens to the answers.
We laugh, and exchange soft touches. He is an outrageous flirter, which only makes me feel light as a feather. He always insists on paying; which is, to be blatantly honest, nice for someone such as myself on a non-working college student's budget.
It is utterly perfect - except that he drives me fucking crazy. I am not exaggerating when I say I have to change my panties at the end of every date.
The first night we met for dinner I felt like I was swimming. Lost in his face, his voice, the way his eyes shifted downward, and the lids crinkled along the edges with his laughter. He walked me back to my dorm, strong hand resting on the small of my back, and my entire body blazed from that simple touch - through clothes.
I found it hard to breathe when we stopped in front of my door, words were impossible; so naturally speaking was out of the question. I wanted nothing more than to ask him in, Rose promised to be conveniently absent so I wasn't worried about her.
Hell, at that point I doubt I would have cared if she watched. He stared down at me, a gentle smile tugging the corner of his mouth just so. "I had a wonderful time Bella," he breathed, his hand still resting on my back.
I nodded, attempting a smile, my eyes refusing to pry away from his lips; full and pink - they looked so soft. Teeth were exposed at my lack of answering, and seeming trance. I know he noticed, I think everyone on our hall could hear me breathing.
"Mmhmm," I hummed, finally able to generate some type of response.
It took an act of God, and one of three future wishes; if ever I were to find a genie in a bottle I was sure I'd be down a wish, but my focus finally shifted roughly to his eyes. Jade. Warm, sparkling pools of jealousy. Not his, but surely any other human who graced those eyes would feel it. I was positive no other person held such intensity, such vibrancy as he did in two small circles of color.
"I don't usually do this on the first date, but…"
Yes, YES! My mind screamed, and I almost grabbed his arm to yank him into my room but…
"Can I, could I kiss you?" He bit nervously into his lush, pink bottom lip.
K i s s ? I spelled it out in my mind, just a kiss?A dazed nod was all I could manage. He smiled, his free hand moving to cup my head at the nape of my neck oh so gently. My scalp prickled at the contact. Those rich eyes disappeared behind a fringe of lashes, and I automatically closed mine as well. His lips pressed into mine; soft, malleable flesh felt like heaven. Heat spread from my mouth across my cheeks, my head tilted to the side to feel him closer. The kiss, delicate and light, rolled listlessly into passion and wanting.
My tongue slid between his lips without thought. He opened his mouth for me, our tongues moving in slow, sinuous circles. I hadn't noticed my hands found their way to his hair; not until he moaned when I pulled on his soft tendrils. I also hadn't noticed my right leg was hitched up onto his hip; that is not until he pressed into me, my back against the door and his hardened cock pushed into just the right spot. I moaned that time - embarrassingly loud.
We were ravenous, and I was seriously contemplating ripping his clothes off right there where we stood, only he pulled away. My mind was a hazy mix of lust and confusion. He panted against my ear softly, leaning into me. "Wow," he breathed. I had to concur, wow indeed. But why was the wow stopping - the wow could keep going, maybe even become a whoa, or oh my God, or holy shit! Why stop at wow?
He let go before I protest, backing away a step, and smiling down lazily at me. "Can I see you again this weekend?"
"Sure," I replied breathlessly, wrangling with my own subconscious. I wasn't sure if I should be irritated, or thrilled.
"Okay, I'll call you," he smiled wider, and it was so genuine. He looked overjoyed, so I smiled back because he was so damn cute, and a hell of a good kisser. Then decided to settle on being thrilled myself, chalking the date up to nothing short of amazing. When Rose got home, I gushed for hours, pouring over every detail. She didn't seem too weirded out that he didn't try to jump my bones, so I put it out of my mind.
That was five weeks ago. Five. Weeks. Ten dates. Over a month. Fifteen pairs of panties. Oh, did I not mention it's just as bad during our lab class together? The majority of the class I spend forcing myself to focus, which inevitably has the exact opposite effect. And then he's always so sweet, his fingers finding my skin; running softly against my hand, or cheek, or back of my neck. I wish he'd fucking stop, doesn't he know what he does to me? I have a class just after, so he walks me to it and kisses me softly, running his fingers through my hair; it's just so wrong, so wonderfully fucking wrong.
The extent of any physical encounters we've had have been PG-13 at best. Sometimes I feel like I'm trapped in some absurd novel with an evil author who just wants to watch me squirm and suffer. I've almost asked, so many times, but I can never bring myself to burst Edward's bubble. We touch and kiss, and roam each other's bodies, but it never fails that he'll cut things off before it goes any further. However, it's never awkward or abrupt, he slowly works us out of it, and he looks delightfully content.
So here I find myself, with this man who by all accounts is amazingly perfect, yet I'm exceedingly sexually frustrated. What's a girl to do? Seduce him. Rose pops into my head like the little devil that she is. I find myself meandering over to her closet, sifting mindlessly through her dresses.
"Why Bella Swan," Rose's real voice makes me jump. I whip around, falling back into her closet, pulling clothes off hangers with me.
"Shit!" I choke out, my heart hammering against my chest. "You can't sneak up like that on me Rose! What are you doing back already?"
"We only had to sit through a short lecture today," she replies, leaning down to help pull me up. She cocks a brow, the right side of her mouth turning up knowingly as she leans against the opposite wall - arms crossing against her chest. "You're gonna do it aren't you?"
"Do what?" I feign ignorance.
Shrugging, I suddenly find the sweaters in my hands very interesting. "I don't know. No. No, I was just looking for something to wear," I trail in a pathetic mutter.
She grabs my arm, pulling me to her dresser. "Alright chickadee, if you're gonna do this you gotta do it right, so let's start with underwear first." I sigh, knowing full well I am about to relinquish my free will to Rosalie. Edward's smile comes to mind - those soft lips, gentle hands, my burning groin. Desperate times call for desperate measures.
Two hours later I am waxed, buffed, primed, polished, primped, fluffed, and I look nothing like myself. Well, no I do, just a shinier, curvier me. The underwear is lace, well the bra is - hot pink lace. Oddly enough, Rose chose white cotton panties for me. "Guys die over this shit Bells, it reminds them of innocence or some shit, I don't know."
I do have to admit, the bra I am a little in love with. It is comfortable, and it makes me look fuller, perkier. The girls looked good, not gonna lie. The dress is black, slim cut that hugs me in all the right places, the neckline dipping lower than anything I own. Not to mention the hemline - short being an understatement. I just pray the white cotton innocence panties don't make an unscheduled appearance.
My makeup is thankfully light and natural, though Rose did something to my eyes that make them look a bit more dramatic than usual. I couldn't tell you if it was eyeliner, shadow, or mascara that did it, but I liked it. Leaning into the mirror I watch how the bathroom light reflects on my irises, the brown almost seems to glow back at me. My hair is down, flowing and curly. I can't help but stare at that as well. I've always envied her hair's ability to curl flawlessly, and mine looks just as good. I am beginning to think she was a genius - an evil genius albeit, but a genius nonetheless.
I run my hands along my arms, which feel silky, and are glimmering, no sparkling under the light. She made me put on some Victoria's Secret lotion, which smells divine, and I may steal, or borrow, and never give back. Ok, I have to say, being primped is kind of awesome. I felt like a million bucks, and more than worthy enough to don the sparkles all over my flesh.
"Here B, put these on," Rose instructs as she enters the bathroom. She pauses, appraising me with a proud ecstatic gleam in her eye. "Maybe I shouldn't be here when he picks you up, I doubt you two will make it out the door the way you look, you sexy bitch," she smiles brightly.
"Ha, ha, Rose. Don't tease me, or get my hopes up," I grin back at her reflection in the mirror, catching a glimpse at the shoes she is offering me. "Oh, no, no, no. I am not wearing those death traps." I exclaim, whirling around on her.
"Bella, they are shoes. Women walk around in far worse every day, you can handle it, trust me." The heels dangle between us. I glare at the pointy three inches, cursing their invention.
"Fine," I grumble, grabbing the shoes begrudgingly.
Once they are on Rose lets out a squeal that would rival any thirteen-year-old at a JoBros concert. Grabbing my arm, she pulls me from the bathroom to our closet area where we have a floor length mirror, shoving me in front of it.
"Watch it Rose, heels remember? Or do you want me to break my leg before I have a chance to get laid?"
"Just shut up and look," she points to the mirror hastily.
I turn to take in my full appearance. Well, damn.
"What do you think?" she hums with anticipation.
"I think… I think if this doesn't work then Edward Cullen is gay."
"Not that there's anything wrong with that," we both say in unison which causes us to giggle uncontrollably.
A few extra spurts of something in my hair later there is a light knock at our door. Suddenly I'm insanely nervous, and have to fight the urge to dive into the bathroom to take cover. Rose ushers me to the door, smacking my ass for good measure. I squeak at the sharp contact. "Go get 'em tiger," she encourages, flashing me a thumbs up.
With ridiculously shaky hands, I manage to turn the knob, pulling the door open. Edward stands there looking like pure sex - as always. His hair tousled in that very Edward way, jeans that hang loose, and a grey sweater outlining his lean, muscular body. My eyes trial to his face, and his expression, oh my. Jesus - his expression; I am severely kicking myself for not letting Rose snap a picture like she wanted to.
His gaze trails slowly down my body and back up even slower. His eyes are a cloudy green - forecast sex. "Hey," he drawls out gradually, his focus finally settling on my face.
I smile, attempting to act normal. You like? Oh what this old thing? "Hey."
"Bella, you look… you look amazing."
I can't help the blush that flushes my cheeks. "Thanks, you look…" Hungry. "Very handsome as well."
"Eddie! Hi! How are you?" Rose pulls the door wider, rudely inserting herself into our conversation. A-B Rose, A-B. I narrow my eyes at her.
"Hi Rose," he responds but his eyes stay glued to me.
"Well here B, you'll need this," she shoves a small bag in my hands. I glance down at it frowning.
"An overnight bag," she replies plainly and all the blood drains from my face.
"Rosalie," I growl under my breath.
"Oh, Edward, can I ask you a huge favor? Bella was too shy to ask, but - well, I'm not."
Don't do it Rose, don't you dare. If you value your life don't you fucking dare. I glower at her harder, praying she receives my mental thrashing.
"I have a really big date tonight, and I was kind of hoping I could have the room."
Wait - what? My expression falls. "What?" The shock and excitement is apparent in my reaction. Rose smiles wickedly, winking at me. "You have a date… with The Hulk?" I can't help squealing. Any doubt that she might be lying is gone with the pink that darkens her cheeks. "You do!"
"Yes, now shush," she hisses.
"Anyway, Edward, normally we'd have worked this out, but this was kind of last minute, so do you think B could stay with you?"
"Um, I don't see why not," he replies, oblivious to my expression. If he had caught it he would have possibly re-thought his answer. I was pretty sure I looked certifiable, delirious with the prospects this brought me.
"Thanks so much, I owe you," she gushes, squeezing his arm.
"No problem, you ready Bella?" he asks, grinning down at me, which causes my fingers and toes to tingle. I nod and he turns, offering me his arm. I accept it, craning my neck to look over his shoulder at the all-too happy Rose. I hate you, I mouth. She blows me a kiss and waves. Inhaling, my head fills with Edward's smell, breaking a smile across my lips. I love you, I mouth back to Rose. Damn - was I gonna owe her.
The air outside is cool, with that light chill that happens in the fall once the sun begins to set. Edward leads me smoothly through the parking lot. I manage the walk to the car and subsequent maneuver into the low seat without any mishaps; I'm taking this as a good sign. He slides in, his face lit with an impish, pirate smile, and starts the engine.
"So I thought we could try this new restaurant," Edward says over the soft music of the radio. I'm unsure if it's my imagination or not, but he seems nervous, his voice quakes a bit when he speaks.
"That sounds great," I reply, content to do whatever he wants.
Tucking my hand in his, he brings it to his lips, rolling it over gently with his fingers. I watch the simple action completely attuned to every little nerve ending his skin comes in contact with. Focused on the road, he breathes in my skin, slowly placing a feather-light kiss against my veins. My eyes roll back in my head. Holy fucking crow, that was the most romantic, yet erotic thing anyone has ever done to me.
When I open them he is staring at me, watching my reaction. I don't even think about the fact that he's not watching the road, okay - yes I do. But it only takes me a millisecond to notice we've stopped at a red light before my focus is swallowed by his expression again.
"You have soft lips," I breathe, wishing I would learn to keep my mouth shut. My cheeks must be fire engine red.
He quirks a smile. "You have soft wrists."
"I think they like each other," I reply with a chuckle, and motion to his hand which still hovers my wrist below his lips.
His smile widens to an all-out cheese as he nods, placing my hand in his lap, and lacing our fingers together. "I think they do … very much so." His jade orbs smolder at me.
A honk from the car behind ours causes us both to jump. The hyper sexual-tension bubble is effectively burst for the moment, and I am a bit relieved. How am I supposed to sit through a dinner with this man unless he is the main course? My mind wanders to an unsafe place, and I suddenly feel overwhelmingly nervous. Oh God - what if I can't handle sex with Edward? What if it's too much and I die of an Edward-induced orgasm? That thought doesn't survive long in my brain before - hell of a way to go - cannonballs through it, and my worries dissolve in its wake.
The rest of the car ride is pleasantly silent. I am reveling in the feel of my hand in his, the warmth is outstanding. We pull into the restaurant, and I'm happy to see it is on the nicer side. I would have felt pretty stupid sitting in a Denny's downing a Grand Slam in this dress.
My hand is released only long enough for Edward to walk around and open the car door for me. He recaptures it and guides me to the front doors. The inside is small and intimate, the atmosphere is very cozy. The walls are lined with white Christmas lights and there is soft, bluesy French music emanating around us.
The host comes over to greet us. A tall man with wide, grey eyes and a handsome smile; his dark hair neatly combed and gelled in place. I return the smile, but when his eyes turn to me and then down the length of my body I wrinkle my nose. Couth much?
Edward subtly takes a half step in front of me, clearing his throat. The look on his face is friendly but menacing. The man seems to take note and keeps his eyes off of me while seating us.
Edward orders us wine, speaking broken French, and I giggle at his attempts. His voice is rather sexy the way he shapes the words, however incorrect they may be.
"What's so funny?"
"Oh nothing… you," I shrug.
"You're cute when you try to speak French."
"Try. I thought I did pretty well. Do you speak it?"
I nod, popping a piece of bread into my mouth. "It's my minor."
He smiles and shakes his head. "I should have known."
I wink at him. "You never asked."
"Well, yes. But I meant I should have known my plan would backfire."
Blood floods to my nether regions as soon as I process his comment. He has a plan? Of course I'm thinking it must be about sex, but then it occurs to me it could be how to let me down easy. Aren't crowed restaurants a popular place to break up with people? Fuck me. I suddenly have the urge to flee and take us somewhere very, very private and secluded.
"Plan?" My voice cracks against the word.
"I thought I was being smooth by bringing you to this restaurant and impressing you with my bi-lingualness."
And the cuteness never ends. I think he may endear me to death. I'd rather die of an orgasm, but he is so sweet I can't stop beaming at him. "Well, you impressed me by making bi-lingualness a coherent word in a sentence. I've never known anyone who invented a word before. It's very sexy."
"I think you're confused on the definition of sexy," he replies with a smirk.
"Oh? Well, please, educate me Mr. Cullen," I quip, tilting my head to the side.
Leaning in, the candle on the table illuminates his face, bathing his sharp features in a warm, inviting glow. I want candle light when we make love. If we make love. God, please let us make love. "The only thing sexy at this table is you. That dress," he points straight at my breasts. "And the way you keep worrying your lip. That. Is sexy."
My mouth goes bone dry, my head swirling, a surge of hormones invading my body. The way his tongue curled around the word sexy, the way his eyes wandered my body as he spoke those words - devastating.
"You didn't need a plan," I whisper.
My head shakes gently. "No. I have been more than impressed by you for some time now. You made quite an impression on me with just a single word. That first day in Chem lab, that first second you spoke to me - I didn't have a chance against you."
He watches me speak intently, my fingers laced neatly together. Reaching across the table, he gingerly takes my hand into his. "Bella," he exhales. "I wish I could say the same."
My stomach plummets, I may throw up the piece of bread I just consumed.
"But, there isn't a great enough word to encompass the feelings stirred inside me when I watched you walk through the door that day."
Butterflies spike violently, soaring through my stomach and inundating my brain. I am dizzy, feeling as though I've just stepped off a rollercoaster. I can register that I'm smiling at him though, I probably look high off my ass, but I don't care.
Edward chuckles at my inability to respond, and honestly, probably my face. "To be completely honest, when I ran after you it was more just an excuse to speak to you… hopefully ask you out."
It is my turn to laugh, his cheeks flush pink. "You mean you didn't care if I was alright then?"
"Not really," he laughed. "Of course, if it weren't for that opening I don't know how I would have worked up the courage."
"So you're telling me my clumsiness paid off for once?"
"Yes, I suppose it did."
Wine is placed in front of us, and I find it hard to swallow through the ear-to-ear grin permanently plastered on my face. I have a horrible vision of Joker in Batman, and pray I don't look that ridiculous.
The rest of the dinner goes seamlessly. I order for us, and can't help but catch the gleam in his eye when I speak smoothly to the waiter in French. I decide to speak it to him if any bedroom talk occurs - oh who am I kidding? I can barely function when he kisses my wrist, I won't be able to breathe, let alone speak. I'll talk dirty French to him in my head then.
The food is divine, and I scarf down every morsel. Edward seems to appreciate a gal with a good appetite because he doesn't laugh at me, even when he has to wipe sauce from my face. We are both stuffed by the time dessert comes out, but it's chocolate so I figure out a way to fit it in.
Hand in hand we walk slowly, strolling really, back to his car. A good stroll is underappreciated. Content to be walking, enjoying the person you are with, it's really nice. I breathe in, taking in the moment and the crisp, cool night air at once.
Edward ushers me into the car, and I lean over to unlock his door for him. As he settles in he has a strange expression, his eyes keep flitting to me.
"What?" I finally ask.
"No, that sounds like something. Tell me."
"It's just my Grandfather always said 'if you find a woman who when you let her into the car, she leans over and unlocks the door for you - hold on to that woman.'"
I blush, looking away. "It's just a door."
"I suppose, but it shows the ability to think of others. That's important."
He hasn't started the car, so I look back to him. He's appraising me softly with his eyes, like he wants to say more, but doesn't know how. It spurs me to speak.
"So you're going to hold on to me then?" I ask softly through the quiet of the darkened car.
"Very tightly," he replies, his voice burning with insinuation.
I swallow. "What was… what was next on your plan?"
"Nothing," he laughs softly, hand running through his hair. "It only really consisted of speaking French."
"Well… shall we go back to your place? We can, um, play cards." I panicked. Asking to go back to his place, whether it is predetermined I am spending the night or not, seemed too desperate.
"I like cards," he replies without a hint of humor.
And with that, he starts the car and drives us to his house. I have been to his place a few times before. Edward lives in a town house just outside of campus with a few friends. I've never met his roommates, but I know their names; Emmett and Tyler. I am really hoping I don't meet them tonight either. Not that I didn't want to meet them, but I need some alone time with Edward - seriously need it.
The place is surprisingly clean as he shows me around. The furniture is eclectic and sparse, what one would expect in a college student's house. "Thirsty?" He asks, leading me into the kitchen.
"No, I'm okay, thanks."
As he opens the fridge I notice a few photos pinned there with magnets.
"Oh my gosh!"
"What?" He spins around closing the door and looking at what I might have seen.
"The Hulk," I mumble more to myself than in an answer.
"The guy in the picture with you, that's who Rose has a date with tonight."
"Really?" He sounds just as surprised as I am and looks at the picture again.
"That's Emmett, I didn't know he was going on a date tonight… You didn't know his name?"
"No, Rose always referred to him as… er… as different things," I finish slowly, desperately trying, but unable to cover my own ass. Thankfully he doesn't press, so I am off the hook.
"Would you like to listen to some music?" He offers after a moment of awkward silence.
"In your bedroom?" Major face palm moment, I close my eyes for a brief second, hoping for time to rewind so I can take that back. Your egger is showing little beaver.
"Um, well, yeah we can. My iPod's in there anyway."
Score. "Oh, yeah - makes sense then," I shrug.
What the hell happened? The night started off so well. He couldn't stop eye fucking me most of the evening, I thought the dress was working miracles … but now? Now's when he's supposed to be pawing my clothes off me, and licking my skin, and … and … what was I talking about?
"What would you like?"
You. On that bed. "Um, whatever is fine." Stepping over to the bed I perch myself on the edge. Edward watches me as he turns on his music. An old blues song fills the air softly. He comes to join me where I sit; we watch one another tentatively.
"Do you… want to play cards?" I offer, trying to change the static in the air to anything different. Slap me, I don't care, but this awkwardness has to go.
"I don't have any cards," he replies, seemingly mesmerized by something on my face. He looks like he wants to kiss me but is holding back. Why is he holding back? This is bad, very bad. We've taken ten steps backwards. We've made-out tons of times; it's never felt this uneasy. Is it because we both want this but neither one is willing to take the first step? Maybe he doesn't want this, maybe I've come off too strong and I've freaked him out. Oh God, maybe he's a virgin. I don't know, I am so freaking lost and hormone riddled I can't make heads or tails of anything right now.
The song shifts and words drift out of the small speakers that are all too familiar. Flightless Bird, American Mouth by Iron and Wine. I don't know anyone else who has this song on their iPod - I listen to it almost nightly. I blink at him; and it's as if he reads my thoughts. He stands lithely, taking me by the hands and pulling me gently to him.
Slowly we turn, he holds me lightly around the waist with his right hand, his left cups my right, lofting them at our sides. My eyes search his, bottomless moss memorizing my face as we sway. When the chorus hits our faces are centimeters apart.
"Edward, what is this?" I find myself murmuring, and I don't even know what I'm asking.
"I don't know, but it's too much, and not enough. I need more, I feel like an addict - you intoxicate me Bella."
"Take what you want Edward," I whisper against his lips. Our mouths collide, his supple skin melding with mine and it is a sweet relief. I've wanted to kiss him all night; it feels a shame to only be doing it now.
His hands wrap around my back, pulling me up onto my toes. Our tongues linger in smooth circles as we just taste. My fingers grip into his shoulders, our bodies pressing together fully. I can feel his stiffened cock pressing into my hip, and can't help rubbing against it.
He pulls away for only a moment, our lungs heaving for air. "I thought you were trying to kill me with this dress when I picked you up."
"What, this old thing?" I mutter with my eyes closed, nuzzling my nose against his. He laughs beautifully; I have to open my eyes to catch the playful smirk that fits that laugh - it is utterly him, and utterly perfect. I recapture his lips into mine, moving my hands into his hair, and pulling him down to me.
"Edward," I say between kisses. "Why haven't you slept with me yet?" I hate myself for speaking in any capacity that may ruin the moment, but I have to ask. It has been driving me crazy - he obviously wants me, I need an answer. "Did you - " Kiss. "Was there…" Kiss. "Something wrong…" Kiss. "Did you not…" Kiss. "Want me?"
He breaks away with a snicker, his hands cupping my face, holding it to his still. "Oh, Bella, you silly, ridiculous girl." Kiss. "I've wanted you." The admission shoots volts of lighting straight to my vagina. Kiss. "I w a n t you," he says in a low voice that sends chills down my spine. Kiss. "But you deserve the best, and I wanted to wait - to treat you like a lady." Kiss.
I laugh, pulling away and smile up at his gorgeous face. "A lady?" I repeat. He nods. "Oh Edward, as much as I am completely flattered and touched, I'm a 21st century kinda gal. You could've jumped my bones in the parking lot of the school, and I would have been overjoyed."
He barks out a laugh, leaning in and placing a gentle kiss against my lips. His eyes bore into mine. "That may be, but whether you think it our not, you deserve more respect than that. I wanted to do this right." His sincerity is heart-warming, and makes me feel all squirmy inside.
I curl my fingers into his hair again, tugging his lips back to mine. Kiss. "You did perfectly." Kiss. "Now, please…" Kiss. "Fuck me."
He growls against my mouth, goose bumps erupt along my flesh. His hands slid along my back, fingers dip quickly under my skirt and cup around my ass. I squeal into his kiss as he lifts me up, carrying me over to the bed and laying me back.
He stands above me, hands glide down my legs. Gently, he slips off one shoe, then the other. I watch, panting below him, my entire body tingling with anticipation. I am pulled back up abruptly, our bodies crashing together. His nimble fingers find the zipper of my dress and it slides open easily. The fabric pools around my feet. Edward draws in a sharp breath; I look to his face slowly. He is staring at my bra with hungry eyes
"Décolles," I saw haughtily.
"What?" he breathes.
"Take it off," I repeat in English.
"Fuck," he moans under his breath.
His mouth devours mine, his fingers working on unhooking the clasp. "That is so fucking hot Bella."
"'Je te veux maintenant. J'ai besoin de toi," I moan softly as he kisses down my neck, my bra falls to the floor with my dress.
"God, I need you too," he huffs. His French is better than I thought.
Suddenly, it's as if someone slams us into third gear. Edward's hands are lifting me by the ass again, pulling my half-naked body to him. I bite into the soft skin below his ear, swirling my tongue over the mark left there. His lips seem to be everywhere at once, my ear, my neck, my collar bone, my lips.
My back is pressed into his soft mattress again, Edward's mouth moves downward. His tongue glides along the crest of my right breast, dancing around the sensitive nipple before he sucks it into his mouth. I groan, yanking on his hair, and arching my back into him, pressing my breast further in his mouth. Oh God, suck more, that feels so fucking good.
My body is a supersonic highway, transporting rampant electrified synapses - I quiver under his touch, the rest of my skin humming with jealousy. Reverent, yet hungry kisses skip across my stomach, his left hand palms my breast. I need something in my mouth, I grab his hand and kiss each fingertip, then bite gingerly. The feeling of flesh between my teeth is ridiculously satisfying.
Distracted by my own fun with his long, willowy fingers he takes me off guard as his tongue dips along my inner thigh, free fingers slipping between my folds. I cry out, biting too hard into his finger which he yanks away with a chuckle. When the hell did he take off my underwear? Oh dear God, don't … stop… that …
My propensity for ADD is met with its match, Edward's ministrations demanding my full attention - I can think of nothing else but those fingers … and that tongue. He pumps his fingers into me, licking and sucking until he finds the small bud of nerves. He flicks it with his tongue. Once. Fuuuuck. Twice. Meeee. Number? Holy. I can't count anymore. Shit.
My fingernails rake through his hair, pushing his face into me, I'm a greedy bitch. His free hand finds my breast again, palming and kneading. Fingers pump in and out, his tongue flicks again, and then sucks me into his lips - between his teeth. I scream incoherently, my head lashes back, body seizing relentlessly. His tongue keeps moving, fingers pumping through my body's explosion. I gasp for air, knees bend and pull together automatically, trapping Edward there. He slows his motions. I shake, and pant, and want him to stop - the euphoria is too much, but I don't really want it to stop so I hold him there between my legs.
As my body slowly relaxes, blood that threatened to tear through my veins at the rate it pumped through slows to just a rush. I have tiny heartbeats everywhere; between my legs, behind my knees, in my toes, my fingers, my ears. Everything pulses. My actual heart works overtime.
My fingers curl lazily into his hair, his hands cup my calves easing my legs to the bed; his lips meander up my body. I realize momentarily that he is still fully clothed. Clumsily, I hook my hands under his sweater and yank upward. The material catches at his shoulders, I pull harder until it is freed and my arms fling above my head. I fucking leave them there because frankly, I am spent.
He beams down at me, shirtless and god damn perfect. "Put my hands in your hair," I mumble breathlessly.
"Excuse me?" He plays coy.
He laughs, straddling me, his knees on either side of my hips. His hands gently tug mine up and place them atop of his soft bronze cloud.
I sigh, "Thank you."
He smiles down at me still, allowing me a moments rest.
"How's the jaw?" I grin at him sloppily.
"Ha, fine," he mock-flexes it, rubbing his hand against his jaw line.
I chuckle. "Fingers pruny?"
That one catches him off guard and he chokes out a laugh. "Bella, you are ridiculous."
Without a word, my right hand slides from his hair down his chest. The muscles dip in just the right places. His stomach is not washboard status - but lean and slightly defined, perfect for me.
Lacing my fingers into his, I pull them to my mouth. He watches, all traces of humor gone, as I suck them one at a time between my lips, tasting myself on his skin. It is a bigger turn on than I thought it would have been for myself, to taste me on him - I shiver in delight.
Awkwardly, I fumble with the button of his jeans, they are button fly as well, so it takes one good tug and they all pop out of place in quick succession. My hand snakes into his boxers, grabbing his length. I squeeze him, reveling in the fullness - the tightness of the softy, velvety skin. I love feeling what I've done to him, that I hold this power over him. Want was filling me again. I pump him slowly, watching his face. His eyes roll, fluttering closed. I don't play timid, or give him time to protest before I pull my up body up, free him from his boxers, and wrap my lips around his cock.
He hisses, gripping my hair. "Fuck Bella, you gotta … warn a… guy," his voice fades. I suck him in fully, swirling my tongue around its ridge as I pull him back out. When I reach the tip I glance up at him. His head tips back with a low moan, and I flick my tongue against his small opening. That gains a feral grunt, his hips buck forward, and his hands rip my hair back. Fuck, now that was hot. I do it again, and he moans unabashedly. I take him into my mouth fully again, allowing my teeth to softly rake against his shaft.
His hands fly from my hair to my shoulders. He shoves me back against the bed, flattening himself above me in one quick swooping motion. "You are driving me fucking insane," he growls.
I must look like a dear in headlights, I can feel the shock apparent on my face. If I wasn't in the moment, I would have thought he was furious. But I can see the flaming lust flickering in a fiery green behind his eyes. I smash my mouth against his, nipping at his lips, pulling his face harder against mine.
It occurs to me this is everything I've been lusting after for the last month, and I tingle with elation that it's happening. And oh is it happening - like whoa.
My hands run along his sides and with the help of my feet, I shimmy his jeans and boxers down his legs. He kicks them off the end of the bed, breaking the intensity for only a split second.
His face turns back to mine and the earth shifts, and slows to a crawl. I'm certain it's been knocked off its axis. The blazing look emoting from his features - eyes, lips, brow line, every muscle - steals my breath away. He hovers above me, hardened dick grazing my center.
Impossibly measured, he pushes into me, bit by bit. Our gazes are locked. As he fills me, I stretch around him, the sensation of him inside me incredible. My jaw slackens, opening slightly more the deeper he goes. Finally he slides fully in, his pubic bone pressing into mine. I tense my muscles around him and he exhales, shifting his hips in response. I am in heaven; I want him inside of me always and forever. This has to be some sort of record, or sign from the divine - we fit together entirely too perfectly. In keeping with our dangerously slow pace, Edward leans his face down to mine, eyes still locked on me. Gently, he runs his nose along mine, kissing my lips ever so lightly, and then pulls out leisurely.
I exhale a breath I hadn't realized I've been holding this entire time. He pushes back in, faster. Out, then in. Harder. The pace is set, aggressive and eager. We kiss when we can, pushing and pulling, huffing loudly against one another. My body winds like a clock, tighter and tighter. I'm waiting for my nuts and bolts to come shooting out on springs. Spots of white invade my vision, my eyes roll back to combat the odd brightened darkness. I am keening recklessly, my body seeking some release of the mounting tension.
The girth of his penis glides against my inner walls, the tip pounding into me with each pass. I pull my left leg in just slightly, and he shifts his hips to the right and… holy motherfuck! Gawd! The white spots blind like sunbursts, I cry out now with each thrust, his dick landing just in the right spot. My hands fist in his hair, I thrust harder, faster, my breathing near panic attack status.
My body starts to give before it tips fully. My limbs quiver, my head twitches to the right. Edward's tongue dips behind my ear and then curls around it's lobe. He breathes hot and heavy in my ear, mumbling something incoherent over and over, his voice molding into a low moan. He presses harder and faster now too.
His hand moves between us, fingers pinch my hardened nipple, and I cascade downward, body and mind imploding. Air is pushed from my lungs forcefully. Residual quakes resonate erratically throughout my muscles; the aftermath of a mind-blowing orgasm like I have not personally experienced before.
At some point Edward hits the wall as well, pumping jerkily into me, grunting and groaning, nipping and kissing against my skin. He collapses against me, neither one of us moving an inch. I am a happily exhausted pile of goo. Every muscle in my body blissfully relaxed.
Three hours pass, okay maybe it was only one - alright, five minutes pass before we move. Gently, Edward pulls us up to his pillows, tucking us under the covers. I melt into his side, sighing in an absurdly contented way. His fingers, which I have come to worship and want silicone casts made of, run through my hair softly.
His heart beats below my ear. I listen as it slows, beat by beat it lulls me. My eyes drift and then open again. I'm afraid if I go to sleep this will have all been a dream, and I'll wake up at square one of horny town, intersection of you 'aint and gettin any.
Edward hums for no reason, he must be thinking about something. I smile at his uninhibited state. "Ha," he chuckles to himself, and I feel like I'm on the same wavelength as him.
"Yeah." I answer.
"That was …" he begins.
"Yeah," I answer again.
"Hm," he hums once more.
"That was … okay." I deadpan.
"You little shit," he chastises in a laugh, tickling my ribs. Though my muscles hate me for the sudden movement and the need to work at all, I squirm and squeal.
"Okay, okay!" I give in, putting my hands up. "It was more than just … okay."
"More than just okay?" He scoffs. "Bella, I feel like a virgin who just had sex with Aphrodite. You're damn right it was better than okay - that shit was other worldly."
Did he just call me a Greek goddess? Yes, I shall keep you forever and you may be my love slave … hold the fucking phone. I sit up abruptly, knocking the covers off of us. My breasts bounce when they spring free. Edward's focus draws straight there.
"Hey," I snap my fingers, "Eyes up here."
He laughs, but eventually tears his eyes away from my goddess like tits. "Are you a virgin?" I ask my voice raising about forty octaves.
His face goes pale, eyes threaten to pop out of his head. "What?"
"You… you aren't, are you?" I try again, more delicately this time. God knows if he is, that would have been a rude ass way to ask.
"A virgin? God, no Bella! It was an analogy," he says the last part slowly. I stare at him dumbly, all I can think of is relief. "You know … a paralleled example. Like I never knew what sex was really like and then I find out for the first time from the goddess of sex of all things…" he explains.
I shake my head to clear it, laughing at him. I don't need an explanation, he is so cute. And again with the referring to me as a goddess - does his perfection know no bounds? It was the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me, post-coital. Hell, ever. I sink into him again with absolutely no hope of ever ridding my face of the outrageous smile perched on my lips.
He sighs, hands return to my hair. "Tell me again why we wasted a whole fucking month?" He hums, his chest buzzing below my fingertips.
"Because I'm a lady," I reply sardonically.
"That you are," he snickers.
I quirk a brow, my smile shifts from goofy to devious. "I'll show you what kind of lady I can be."
His eyes, which were closed, open in just enough time to see my head disappear under the covers. If I was going to have it my way, we will more than make up for our wasted time. And I will have it my way. After all, I am a goddess.
Amount of sleep acquired the rest of the night - none. Sex - tons. If I thought my brain was consumed by thoughts of sex with Edward before tonight, I am terrified of my ability to function after the fact. Sex. Sex. Sex. Yes. Please. Yes. I don't think we are ever leaving this bed again. Sounds like a happily ever after to me.
A/N: A few quick disclaimers: I do not own any of the songs mentioned in this story! All rights belong to their respective owners. Also, I do not speak French, and have never taken a class on it. I did my best googling job to put in the few lines that I did. So for any of you who do speak it, I apologize for offending your senses. I hope it wasn't too bad!
This was originally written for Fandom Against Domestic Violence. Thank you sooooooo much to anyone who did donate to the cause. I'm currently working on a one shot for Fandom For Tsunami. I've decided to write it EXSCLUSIVELY for the Tsunami compilation. I will not be posting it on , or my blog. I will be posting a teaser soon though, so follow me on twitter for updates. [ Buff_82 ] Thanks for reading!