A/N: Hey! Well here it is! The longest chapter of the story! Nothing more to say than thank you all for taking this journey with me. This story has been a pleasure to write. Not only has it been the kinkiest (I even shocked myself, let me tell you), it's also been based around some interesting historical facts, some of which are referred to in this chapter, the rest dotted here and there throughout the story. It's made researching more fun and interesting than any other.

Thank you for your reviews, alerts, favoriting this story and for all the support and encouragement you have given me along the way. In other words, my lovely readers, thank you for being you. xx

Then of course there is the wonderful penguincullen who gave me this prompt (vampire Edward and strong Bella) and allowing me to share what I came up with (originally supposedly a oneshot). Thank you so much, my friend! Hearts!

To Texasbella for betaing, talking me off several ledges and handling me with her loving, kid gloves through this journey, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. Love you so much!

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight, but I love to tweak the characters until they're doing dirty, dirty things! :D


I circled slowly, never taking my eyes off my opponent … at the same time mentally preparing myself for just about anything.

"That's right," he said in his deep, commanding, but highly refined Queen's English.

I nodded, my body and mind on high alert.

"Be aware of your surrounds at all times. Never show weakness in your stance or your expression, but most of all, never show any mercy once you have them where you want them."

I continued to circle, left hand behind my back, the right clutching the sword and holding it aloft, knees flexing as I watched and waited for his next move. He thrust forward, and I backed away with ease, before circling my quarry once more. My sire was a worthy opponent, there was no doubt, but I liked to think I was rather more 'streetwise' than he.

For these many years, Carlisle had been hidden away from the world. "Self-imposed hiatus" was how he had described his withdrawal from society. Not only had he found his Utopia in the life he had now, he also needed to protect what he had from those who sought to destroy it, choosing to live out his existence in total seclusion.

Returning here to Romania, the place where his own sire had lived until murdered by the Brotherhood in Rome centuries earlier, had been the one place Carlisle felt at peace. After a bloody battle which saw many of their kind wiped out, the Brotherhood feared returning to this place…the place where Vlad III, infamously known as Vlad the Impaler, ruled with an iron fist during the fifteenth century.

Vlad tortured and murdered close to a hundred thousand souls during his reign, but only managed to sire a few, his thirst for blood so uncontrollable he found it near impossible to stop before his victims were tortured and drained. One of those survivors had been Aro Volturi. Seduced by the blood and power he possessed, Aro stood by his maker's side. In return for Aro's loyalty, Vlad had granted him his own land at the foothills of the Carpathian Mountains, where he built Volturi Castle, and ruled the villagers without mercy.

The two of them were close, but after Aro discovered Vlad's wish was to protect Christianity in Eastern Europe, he thought his maker had gone mad. Discovering that as a human he was the bastard son of a disgraced priest, Aro grew to despise any form of organised religion, and after learning the Brotherhood upheld many Christian beliefs, he tried and eventually succeeded to draw them into battle with Vlad, hoping for carnage.

He got his wish.

By the time the last embers had died, there was nothing left but ash and the strong scent of death for miles around. Only one remained, Aro the sole survivor after having fled like a coward hours before the battle had even begun.

Aro was arrogant, and made it his mission to bring down those who were deemed more powerful than he. He was the one who hunted and ultimately sired Carlisle, unable to resist attempting to destroy the Church of England, and ultimately the Empire, from the inside out, and sever its bloodline forever. However, Aro did not choose his quarry wisely.

As a human, Carlisle had been a prince among men in both the figurative and literal sense, and though he was third in line to take the throne, preferred to live his life unfettered by royal obligations. Though his family opposed it, Carlisle often got out among his people, and it was the fact he ventured forth without protection that made him the most obvious target.

What Aro did not count on, however, was the fact that he had sired a man who not only brought a pure heart into the immortal life, but one who loved humans, and also possessed remarkable control when among them. Aro soon took Carlisle under his wing, giving him the same ring Vlad had bequeathed to him, while telling him about the history behind how he was made, as well as warning him about the existence of the Brotherhood.

Though Carlisle appreciated his sire's help, much to Aro's dismay, Carlisle did not trust him, knowing that for all Aro gave, he would want something in return. Of course, Carlisle was correct, and because of his refusal to do as Aro had bid and assassinate the King, the Empire not only survived, but continued to grow and flourish. In disgust, Aro left Carlisle to be dealt with by his family after telling them what Carlisle was, and headed straight for Rome, vowing to kill the Pope Paul II in hopes his death would bring the Roman Catholic Church to its knees. It was there Aro was killed by the Brotherhood, many of whom were members of the Pope's personal guard.

"Focus, Edward," Carlisle warned, his obsidian eyes glinting with bravado, daring, and confidence; back ramrod straight, shoulders broad, his gait that of a man who felt superior to all he came in contact with.

Carlisle's free hand was inches from the handle of the small, golden-handled dagger that was sheathed behind the thick leather belt he wore, his fingers itching to grasp his weapon and plunge it deep within me no doubt, when I let out a humorless laugh.

"Go on. I dare you to try, old man," I taunted, moving my hand toward my own souvenir, compliments of the blond hunter: the ruby and diamond-encrusted dagger that was tucked inside my loose-fitting black trousers.

His eyes burned blacker still, irises blown wide, his growing anger simmering at the surface of his psyche.

He did not know with whom he was dealing.

I knew his weakness.

It was only a matter of time before I got the better of him. I just needed to bide my time until the right opportunity presented itself.

"Ha!" he shouted as if reading my thoughts while flicking the blade from side to side.

The swishing sound it made reminded me of the cat-o'-nine-tails my Mistress had last used on me. It had been far too long since I'd spent quality time with my mate. Indeed, so much had happened since we'd been saved from being burned in the fires of hell that we had barely had time to settle into our new abode here at Aro's castle.

"Argh!" I cried as Carlisle thrust once more; this time the blade piercing my skin, and penetrating my body several inches in.

"Will you just. Please. Focus!" he roared. He twisted the blade and thrust it in deeper before leaning closer and whispering, "Get distracted like that again, and it could be the last mistake you make. Now, en-guard!"

I growled and shook my head in order to clear it, annoyed that I'd allowed myself to become distracted so easily. Panting sharply, I took a step back while he slowly, torturously pulled the blade from my body, and retreated. I watched on as he stood there, smiling, and licking his sword clean of my blackened blood.

"Mmmm, the sweet taste of victory," he moaned.

I had yet to partake of Carlisle's life essence, having never drawn a single drop of it thus far, but after already having tasted Bella's sweet blood, I was curious about its flavour nonetheless. Sensing his momentary lapse in concentration as he continued to lap and suck, I lunged forward.

Our swords clashed loudly as he took an evasive step to his right, and I continued to thrash at him, left and right as fast as I could.

Fending me off with every blow, his skill and precision frustratingly perfect, he laughed mockingly at my failed attempt to best him.

"Edward? The new equipment's arrived and it's time to get it into the...oh, sorry to interrupt," my Isabella called out in her perfect voice as she threw open the large double doors to the gym and stood in the doorway.

The moment I'd snapped my head around to take her in, I was done for. She was dressed in a black leather coat and dark blue jeans, and as I gazed upon the knee-high, matching lace-up boots, I wanted to fall to my knees and service my Mistress anyway she saw fit. No matter what her attire, she always looked good enough to eat, but today was not a normal day. Today, our roles would be reversed, and I hoped not for the last time. Once the equipment we'd ordered was in place, all would be ready.

She let out a tiny growl as her rapidly darkening eyes slowly traversed my naked chest, her fangs protruding in response to the blood that slowly oozed over my skin. Before I knew what had hit me, my sword had already clattered to the floor and Carlisle had me on my back, dagger at my throat. I hissed as he meticulously carved the letter 'C' into my chest, marking me, while his knees pinned my hands to my sides and gripped me tightly.

"You are so predictable, young Edward," he said with an evil grin, throwing his leg off me before rising and offering me his hand.

"What is the point of this, anyway?" I complained as I pushed his hand away and sat up. "The Brotherhood are no more, are they not?"

"Perhaps, but I have learned the hard way never to assume anything," he said with a shake of his head and a look of anger on his face.


These past few weeks had been the most enlightening of my existence, Carlisle's story as he told it solving the mystery of not only who I was, but how Isabella had come to be in the situation she'd found herself in.

"Dinner will be ready in an hour," Esme, the human woman Carlisle wrote about with such deep affection announced as she appeared and stood next to Isabella, wrapping her arms around her, Esme's own eyes darkening the instant she regarded her mate. Yes, we had learned that Isabella's mother was not only alive, but that Carlisle had found her after searching fruitlessly for several long years, her disappearance occurring the same night I was made.

Both Carlisle and I were standing next to them within seconds.

"Well then, girl, I shall have Emmett install the equipment so you have time to prepare. You are in for a long night, after all," I said, my voice taking on a deeper, darker timbre.

She opened her mouth to speak, but I silenced her by placing my index finger over her full, delectable lips.

"Now go and prepare, and I do not want to hear you utter another word unless I command it." When Isabella lowered her eyes, I placed a soft kiss upon her forehead, and a shudder coursed through her before she turned and left in silence.

"She is so much like you, my love," Esme whispered in Carlisle's ear, wrapping her arms around him. "Fearless, but with a softer side to her as well."

"It's the human in her," Carlisle explained. "She does, however, possess the ability to love wholly and completely, and that, my sweet, is all you."

"Oh, I think that we all had a hand in that part, wouldn't you agree, Edward?" Esme countered with a soft smile, and I nodded. "She is finally happy. Isabella has found her soulmate, been reunited with her family, and it's all because of you, my husband."

Indeed. Carlisle's decisions had brought us all together, of that there was no doubt.

On the fateful night I was created, the hunters had already invaded the city, and were hiding in wait outside the castle walls, their cloying scent clinging to both my father Henry and myself upon our arrival. On learning of their presence, Carlisle decided it best to confine himself to his quarters, but it did not take long for him to change his mind once he smelled my fresh blood as I expelled it from my lungs...tasted my growing weakness as my body began to succumb to the inevitable.

It had already been too long since Carlisle had fed, and desperate as he was to sate his uncontrollable need, he decided I would become his next meal, knowing I was not long for this world. Carlisle secreted himself in an adjoining room, listening from afar as Henry played several of his most well-known pieces, and a few he had not heard since my father's last visit when he played for the King's coronation. Carlisle had been won over the moment the first note echoed through the halls back then, so much so, that he begged his King to have Henry return, Carlisle often humming his compositions to his unborn child when he managed to steal a moment with his love.

After the performance was over, my father was granted an audience with the King. I was relegated to the guest chambers after having taken a turn for the worse, the Royal doctors claiming there was nothing more they could do. I had contracted Consumption just weeks before, and I should never have contemplated accompanying my father, but I was far too young to attend the coronation performance, and my last request before I died was to be given the opportunity to watch him perform before the King.

Carlisle spirited me away from my bed that very same night.

Taking the secret entryway he had always used to escape without detection, he took me deep inside the bowels of the city in an effort to conceal his actions. He thought it best to dispose of my body among the London sewers' many tunnels rather than risk it being discovered on royal grounds. He also did not want to make the mistake of placing himself in further peril by venturing too far beyond the walls that had kept him safe for eons. Finding the perfect place to sate his need, he pulled me to him and plunged his fangs into my throat. He had barely injected his venom into my system when one of the hunters appeared as if by magic, lit torch in hand and ready for battle. His unexpected presence caused Carlisle to panic and toss my screaming, writhing body into the rancid water.

It was then the hunter had gleefully informed Carlisle that a fire had been set alight by them at the very same bakery where his mate lived and worked, in the hopes they would draw him out. Once they had learned that another vampire not only existed, but had impregnated a human while under the protection of the Crown, the Brotherhood had been forced to take action, their creed to protect humans their sole purpose; the thought of a vampire breeding with a human nothing short of blasphemous. He then went on say they had taken his mate, and that Carlisle would never see her, or his unborn child again. They would be dead before dawn broke the very next day.

Carlisle flew into a rage.

Within moments, the hunter was dead, his body torn to shreds before the fire from his own torch had engulfed his remains until it was nothing but a burning pile of ash. After that, my sire had but one thing on his mind: to find the one person he cared more about than himself, and take her as far away from London as possible.

Leaving his ring upon the remains as the fire began to rage within the depths of the sewers, he walked away from his former life and the protection of his family, forever abandoning them and denouncing any link to Aro with that one final act. He felt that by doing so, he would protect King and Crown, and hopefully draw the hunters away from those he cared about for good. By the time he'd arrived at the bakery, his mate was indeed, gone, the place razed to the ground and reeking of the enemy. Realizing he was at risk of being killed by a far more sinister foe – the fire spreading as far as the eye could see – he sought refuge outside the city until the last of the embers had died five days later.

When he felt it safe to return, he avowed to not only seek revenge using every resource possible, but find his one and only and their unborn child, or die trying.

Six humans perished in those fires, but an estimated hundred thousand were left homeless, among them Esme's family. Condemned for their actions by the King, the hunters left to return to their home in the east of the Continent, tails tucked firmly between their legs, no doubt hoping Carlisle had perished in the flames they themselves had ignited.

Once they'd brought Esme to the place she'd spend many long years, the Brotherhood argued about what to do with her. She was, after all, still human and deserving of their protection. In the end, the hunters were so curious as to what they could learn by studying a vampire's offspring, they detained Esme until Isabella was born, weaned, and no longer dependent upon her mother for nourishment. Because my mate was part vampire, it took seven long years for that to occur. Once they found Esme no longer useful, they used their mental trickery to erase any memory she bore of her child, her previous life, or indeed her recollections while being held captive, before returning her home to London.

My sire's inability to move on was what brought them back together. He persisted on frequenting the place she was born every morning, until he finally set eyes upon her, working in the rebuilt bakery as if not a single day had gone by since they'd parted. After the new owners of the bakery had found her laying unconscious in the dark alley behind the Pudding Lane establishment, they had given her shelter in exchange for her labour. They bore no connection to Esme's family, therefore could not help her put together the pieces of her former life. Carlisle found it interesting that she still ended up in the place from whence she'd come, and he was astounded that though she did not recollect anything about her former life, she was still drawn back there by some unknown force.

Stealing her away that very same morning, Carlisle soon charmed her back into his open and waiting embrace. Over time, he also discovered that his venom and blood not only healed Esme when she was ill, it also helped prolong her human life. But, he knew if he wished her to remain alive he would eventually be forced to change her. Even though she still had the appearance of a young woman, just as had occurred with Isabella, Esme's strength began to wane. Because she was completely human, it happened far too quickly, and Carlisle knew he was running out of time and options.

It took her being on death's door for Carlisle to draw the courage to attempt to turn her into the immortal she was now, never realizing he had already successfully sired me, petrified he would lose her forever by taking such drastic measures. Her change had only occurred this century, when her last breath began to draw near, her heart failing as death called her into its bosom.

Once Esme awoke into her new life, it was then she remembered a few single, but vitally important fragments of her old one. Carlisle was, of course, the first thing she recollected along with memories of her giving birth to her daughter, whom she named Isabella, after her sister who she had left behind all those years earlier. The rest of the puzzle remained a mystery, and Esme feared her daughter dead, such was the ability of the Brotherhood to cloud the mind of their victim.

The only other clue to Esme's past was the family name of Flannery. Carlisle told Esme that she had spoken of her father, Thomas Flannery, owner of the bakery when the Great Fire was first ignited on more than one occasion. Though there wasn't much more information about any of her other relatives, Esme managed to track down one family member, a cousin by the name of Garrett who lived alone in the outskirts of Belfast. He was the one who informed her that he was her last remaining relative, and the rest of the Flannerys were long dead, murdered the night of the fire. He also told them that though he knew of Esme's sister Isabella Cullen, and her husband Edward, along with Thomas Flannery and his younger brother, William, as far as he knew, he had not heard of a baby Isabella. The moment I'd heard the story, I knew. Esme's sister was the woman I'd killed the day I was born...the one whom Isabella looked so much like.

The one whose image had been burned into my psyche for all time, and the one I'd been searching for all my life.

Esme's greatest fears were realised. She was forever destined to live out her existence without the love of the child she'd wanted so desperately. Her only comfort was found in Carlisle, who never gave up on finding their child, but they both also knew they had to find their daughter without drawing the attention of the Brotherhood.

I left the gym and informed Emmett of my requirements regarding setting up the playroom before heading for the room Isabella and I planned to share after tonight. Stripping off, I walked into the bathroom, turning on the water. I groaned and my cock grew the moment I thought of my mate preparing for our special evening together. We had agreed to abstain from any sexual contact until tonight, and we only deviated from that rule when it was necessary to explore my Isabella's wants in order to prepare. We even went so far as to occupy separate quarters our entire stay thus far to avoid temptation.

Ignoring my erection, I licked my wounds until they healed before stepping underneath the hot spray, focusing on ensuring every part of me was clean and well groomed. Once finished, I quickly dried myself, ran a comb through my hair until it was slick and straight, and headed for my quarters. I dressed in a heavily starched white shirt and black dress pants, tracing my fingers absently over the ring as I regarded my reflection in the mirror.

My eyes glinted with excitement, but I knew it was my role to reign it in, because although we would be with company for dinner, our evening of play was to commence the moment I left this room.

I smiled while slipping on my brand new socks and black leather dress shoes, and then tied my bowtie with precision, ensuring it was perfectly positioned against my stiff, perfectly pressed collar. My Mistress had taught me well these past weeks, and I was more than ready to practice what she had preached with such thorough willingness. Opening the door, my breath caught in my throat at the sight before me.

Just as I had instructed, my sweet girl was waiting on her knees at the top of the stairs, her posture that of a submissive ready and willing to serve her Master. Hands clasped behind her back, lips blood red and glistening, smokey eyes surrounded by thick, black lashes firmly fixed on the floor, back straight and breasts jutting out proudly, she was the epitome of class and elegance.

And she was mine.

At her side within a split second, I ran my fingers through her perfectly curled tresses while my eyes travelled over her, and drank her in. A hint of her cleavage teased my senses, and though her body remained mostly concealed, my cock still responded while I envisioned what lay beneath the silk fabric of the little black dress she was wearing. The metal spikes of her black patent leather heels peeked enticingly from beneath her heart shaped arse, making my entire body hum as I soaked her up like a sponge.

"Good evening. I trust you have done as I have instructed?" I whispered, the anticipation already burning brightly within me as I fantasized about the newly acquired marks that lay beneath the fine material of her clothing.

My marks. The ones that told the world she was mine, and mine alone.

She did not move nor respond.

"Good girl," I praised, tugging at her hair a little more forcefully, the responding soft moan as it escaped her throat assuring me she was very much with me in that moment, and more than prepared for the evening ahead. Gripping her hair and wrapping it around my fingers, I pulled on it harshly until her head was thrown back, exposing that tempting, delectable throat of hers.

"Now, answer the question!" I growled, venom spraying over her chin and jaw.

Her eyes remained averted from mine as she answered in a quiet, throaty voice, "Yes, Master."

As much as it thrilled me to call my mate 'Mistress', to hear those words fall from her lips was the ultimate high, a drug the inherently dominant side of my nature would quickly become addicted to. It seemed my girl felt much the same way, her submissive tendencies just as strong if not stronger than her dominant ones. Her fangs were protruding and coated with venom, and her arousal already hung thick in the air as she spoke. All of my strength and determination was needed to stop myself from having her, then and there.

"That's better. Now, shall we?" I gritted out, pulling her forward by her hair, and thus forcing her onto her hands and knees. Her responding hiss followed by a needy whimper was music to my ears. Lust was already filling me to the brim, maddeningly so, and I briefly wondered if I would have the fortitude to see the evening out without exploding in my trousers. I watched, fascinated as my mate readily accepted the sublime combination of pleasure and pain I was inflicting upon her, while in contrast, her entire body remained pliant and relaxed as if she had been born to serve.

"Come," I commanded. Though her hair was close to coming out by the roots as I pulled her behind me, she eagerly complied with my wishes, crawling while I marched us down the three flights of stairs without a sound. My mate never uttered a word of protest, never showed any signs of discomfort.

Walking past the doorway to the library I hesitated, and then glanced inside, my girl stopping the moment I did. Alongside the antiquities Bella had arranged to have shipped here the moment she planned to sell her home were several floor to ceiling shelves; Carlisle's diaries took up two rows alone among the volumes of ancient tomes. As a result of having read every one of those diaries several times over already, I had come to know and understand the man who had sired me: the man I was quickly growing to respect with each passing day, one who was noble and honorable, and someone I hoped to emulate.

I smiled. It was only once Carlisle's one missing diary was uncovered that all our destinies were altered once more.

It had been thought lost, and after leaving his life behind, Carlisle thought no more of it. Once he had learned that several of King Charles II letters and books were sold at auction in London, Carlisle sent his only trusted friend and former curator of the National Museum of Romanian History, Jasper Whitlock, to find out who the purchaser was in hopes his diary was amongst the collection.

Upon his many research trips to the museum, Carlisle had soon befriended the thirty year old Texan man. Jasper's fascination and incomparable knowledge of Romanian history along with his mastery of several disciplines of self-defence, and a dubious past as a mercenary to the highest bidder had fostered a truly wonderful camaraderie between them. Jasper had fought in many battles, his scars there to prove he had barely survived, and this sparked a kinship between he and Carlisle that was unique; one I sensed would continue into the afterlife if Jasper so wished. Their blossoming friendship had become so deep that when Jasper's research revealed who and what Carlisle was, instead of fleeing for his life, Jasper accepted his friend without so much as batting an eyelid. Jasper had witnessed the behaviour of humanity at its worst, and the fact that an immortal being such as Carlisle strove to protect it fascinated rather than repulsed the young man. It was not long after Jasper's discovery that Carlisle offered his friend a home and a job with him here at Volturi castle, which he'd readily accepted.

When he had smelled Isabella's familiar, beautiful scent on Jasper, Carlisle immediately made it his mission to know everything he could about the woman who had purchased what was rightfully his. At the same time, Carlisle knew he had to tread carefully, for the faint but nonetheless distinctive scent of the enemy also clung to his best friend like a noose around all their necks. Since the sale of his personal items apparently had also attracted the attentions of the Brotherhood, Jasper was to befriend the bidder while Carlisle hid in the shadows, the young man ingratiating himself with her friends and associates in an effort to recover Carlisle's property safely. Little did Jasper know that immersing himself in the world of BDSM would bring forth his deeply repressed sexual predilections; his desire to be a Master, though unexpected, something he eventually welcomed with open arms.

Isabella had offered the diary to Carlisle the moment she learned who he was, and Carlisle gratefully accepted, her actions prompting me to attempt returning the ring to its rightful owner. Carlisle had refused, telling me Aro's gift held no meaning to him, and that as it had helped me discover who I was, the ring was to remain with me. I had to confess, I was more than relieved. Not only had the ring been with me since my introduction into this life, it symbolized the connection my Isabella and I shared, and the fact that she owned me and I, her.

Continuing onto the dining hall, Carlisle's servant, Petr, clad in nothing more than a leather pouch and matching studded collar, quietly showed us to our seats before disappearing through the large double doors that lead to the kitchen. Bella took her place beside me, kneeling on the cold stone floor to my right, head lowered, posture perfect as I finally let go of her hair and smiled. Carlisle sat at the head of the table with Esme situated to his left, Jasper sitting next to her. I took my seat two down from Jasper, to give my girl and I enough room to play, while Emmett, Rosalie, and James sat opposite us, closest to the glassed in, roaring fire...a fire that we had reluctantly been forced to ignite to ensure our human guests did not freeze to death in this colder, far less forgiving climate.

James had agreed to join us once Carlisle and I had used some trickery of our own, offering him the choice between being hunted down and murdered by the Brotherhood, or to live out the remainder of his life under our protection. Of course, we had to sweeten the deal by gifting him the young, beautiful and dark haired Petr, but eventually James decided it prudent to agree to our terms.

Petr was a local human boy that ended up here after Carlisle had found him, homeless and destitute on the streets of the nearby village. With no money or family ties remaining after his parents threw him out for preferring the company of men, Petr gratefully accepted Carlisle's hospitality, willingly doing anything he'd been asked in exchange for room and board, the young man turning out to be one of the most natural submissives any of us had ever seen.

"Dinner is served," Petr announced in his very thick Romanian accent, deep brown eyes lowered as he burst through the doors and wheeled in a large trolley filled with plates of food and two crystal decanters.

My nostrils flared as the smell of fresh blood awakened my senses and immediately caused my mouth to flood with venom. One of the decanters contained Petr's life essence – a gift that he willingly bestowed whenever a special occasion arose – the other was filled to the brim with red wine. My pet's little moan of delight told me she hungered for the warm, freshly harvested blood just as much as I, and I could not help but smile at her eagerness. These days we never hunted and killed humans, instead existing solely on the extremely potent life essences of our mates, but tonight was a special evening.

Not only were we celebrating the beginnings of our new business venture, this was the first night we'd be spending in our new home as a family, Rosalie and Emmett's arrival a mere twenty-four hours earlier completing the picture.

"A toast. To family and friendship, and everlasting love," Carlisle announced, lifting his glass once Petr had poured everyone their drink of choice.

"To love," Rosalie said, raising her glass of water.

"And kinky sex," James added with a lascivious smile.

"To finding that elusive balance between love and kinky sex," Jasper added with a smirk, giving me a salute. I nodded and smiled in acknowledgement, because I more than anyone on this earth knew how fortunate I was, and only wished the same for Jasper.

"To a brighter future for all," I said, raising my glass in tribute before inhaling the contents and then pouring some more.

Placing the glass to my girl's lips, I then commanded, "Drink."

The moment I tilted the glass, she had already opened her mouth and hungrily gulped it down, my already hard cock twitching and lengthening further as she licked the stray remnants of blood off her lips.

"Here, here!" Esme shouted, the sound of her voice cutting through my spiralling thoughts.

"Cheers!" Emmett piped up, smiling as he picked up his wine and clinking it against Rosalie's before placing an affectionate kiss upon her lips.

The two of them were dressed impeccably, Emmett in a three piece suit, Rosalie wearing her hair down and a long, flowing blue velvet gown. They were to be married this summer, and had not played for quite some time, Rosalie's announcement that she was with child forcing her to take stock of her life. Neither she nor Emmett had any remaining family ties back in the US, and Rosalie had come to regard Isabella as her sister.

Now that she was expecting, Rosalie also wished more than anything for Emmett to retire from his life-threatening job as a police officer. I had no doubts Emmett had done so willingly, for I knew he would do anything for Rosalie...even following her to the ends of the earth if that was what she so wished, which was how they ended up here.

After recovering from the initial shock of discovering what I, and indeed what Isabella was, Rosalie had laughed, and then said, "Well this explains a hell of a lot! Pain slut, my ass, Isabella! You're half-immortal. No wonder I wasn't able to satisfy you! No human on earth would have been capable!"

After Rosalie had finished her tirade, she vowed to always be there for Isabella, refusing to allow petty things such as the fact that her friend drank blood to come between them.

Rosalie and Emmett had then agreed to come visit once they'd tied up some vitally important loose ends in LA. They not only finalized the sale of the club, but Emmett made sure I was cleared of any involvement in the deaths I'd been implicated in all those weeks ago. What remained of the antiquities Bella didn't have shipped here were donated to various museums, and Bella also decided to keep her home, much to my relief. Not only could it come in handy if any of us needed a place to stay if and when we returned to the States, it was the place where my true self was brought forth by one very talented Mistress. When Rosalie was given the all-clear by her doctor, she and Emmett made arrangements to fly here and had since decided to stay on after Carlisle had graciously offered to open up part of Volturi Castle to members of the BDSM community once the baby was born.

They readily agreed.

Though Carlisle and Esme did not practice BDSM, they were happy to help any way they could to ensure their newly discovered family remained with them. We were on the verge of opening the unique and extremely exclusive Club Volturi in the coming months, and the preparations were coming along extremely well. Rosalie and Emmett would become the human faces of the business and host all social events and demonstrations, while Carlisle, Esme and myself would provide the equipment and operate the business from behind the scenes, as it were. Jasper and James would be in control of security, ensuring guests adhered to the many rules needed to be enforced because of the fact our clientele would be human, while Petr would run the bar. No blood or fire play would be permitted for guests, nor would they be allowed to roam the halls of this place unattended. That would only be inviting trouble. We would offer our services to train those interested, and Emmett would also ensure that all who entered the premises were given a thorough background check before setting foot in the many playrooms we would be making available once several dungeons had been converted.

"My compliments to the chef," Jasper said, inhaling deeply as he lifted the silver dome off his plate that Petr had set in front of him. James and I did the same, each dish filled with a generous servings of rare roast beef, mashed potatoes, asparagus, and creamed carrots. My mate had not ingested anything other than my blood for far too long, and because her human hungers still lingered within her, I would be ensuring she ate well prior to us proceeding to the dungeon.

"Oh, that's right. You, Isabella, and Edward are yet to meet our newest employee. Petr, would you be so kind as to bring her in here?" Carlisle asked.

Petr immediately looked to his Master, who nodded his assent. Once Petr left through the door to the kitchen, an oddly-familiar, tiny raven-haired, doe-eyed woman appeared in his place.

"Ah, young Alice," Carlisle said with a welcoming grin. "Come meet the other members of our little team. Alice will be catering for the club when it's opened."

Striding toward me, she shook my hand before saying in her broad, American accent, "Nice to finally meet you, Edward. Isabella."

Alice bowed her head, respectful of the fact Isabella was in no position to interact with her, and as her hand touched mine, her fragrance wafted around me, the scent of it so familiar, but I could not place where I'd smelled it before.

"Have we met?" I asked, my brow furrowing in confusion as our hands remained clasped, her hazel eyes so familiar. Oh yes, she was young, but I sensed she had experienced pain...far too much pain for such a young girl.

"No, not exactly," she answered mysteriously.

Emmett winked at me and grinned, and Alice released my hand and moved toward Jasper, who had not taken his eyes off the young girl, nor breathed I'd wager, since she had entered the room. It was as though a light had suddenly appeared within each of them, one so bright and dazzling, it was beautiful to behold.

"Jasper Whitlock," he said as he stood to his feet and walked around the table. Clutching her fingers within his, he kissed her knuckles, and she let out a tiny laugh as she said, "I'm Alice. Alice Brandon."

"Well it is a pleasure to meet you, Alice Brandon. Would you do me the honor of joining us for dinner?" Jasper requested in the thickest southern American drawl I'd heard him speak yet.

"I would love to," she said wistfully.

Petr appeared once more with another plate, setting it in front of Alice once Jasper showed her to the vacant chair next to him. Petr then took his place, kneeling on the floor next to his Master, waiting in perfect position until James began to feed him.

Carefully slicing up a portion of meat and spiking it with the fork, I waved it in front of Bella's face.

"Eat," I commanded.

She readily complied; her pink tongue so tempting as she opened her mouth and slid her lips over the perfectly polished silver tines. I moaned as she hummed contentedly the moment the food hit her palate. With her returning strength had also been her appetites, each and every one of them, and I could not be happier. Her heart was strong and her skin glowed, her deep brown eyes sparkled, and her strength and ability to produce venom had also increased, all of the things so unique about my mate making for a most alluring combination.

"So, pray tell me, Alice, where do you hail from?" I questioned the young girl, trying to distract myself from my burgeoning desires.

"Los Angeles, of course," she answered with a smile as Jasper poured her a wine.

"Oh? So, what brings you here?" I inquired further. Emmett chuckled, and I gave him a questioning look before returning my attentions to Alice.

"Well, my sister Mary recently passed, and I found no real reason to stay in LA. Too many bad memories and all. Emmett offered to bring me, so, here I am," she answered sadly.

"Oh, I am sorry. How did she die?" I asked, probably inappropriately, but a spark of something I could not decipher was beginning to gnaw at me, and I simply had to know more.

Emmett's eyes were squarely fixed on me, and as he watched and waited, Alice swallowed nervously before answering. "She was murdered by her pimp."

My mouth went completely dry as the sudden realisation hit.

The young woman who sat before me did not look exactly like the one who had died in my arms the night I was arrested, but she still reminded me of her. Their builds were the same, and though Alice was even more petite than the girl I tried to save, their hair and eye color were also identical. Above all, they shared a very distinctive scent.

My undoubtedly shocked expression obviously gave away my moment of clarity, and Emmett nodded, thus confirming my suspicions. Alice wiped away a tear that was suddenly running down her cheek. Grasping her hand, Jasper whispered words of comfort and assurance, consoling Alice gently, the connection they shared already exceedingly obvious.

"I am very sorry to hear that," I said, my voice laced with heavy sense of sadness and regret.

"Thank you. Anyway, Emmett found me a few days ago, and offered to bring me here. I am forever in his debt." Alice smiled at Emmett gratefully.

"I never would've found you if it wasn't for Edward here." I raised a brow in question, and Emmett shrugged before he continued, "It's true. Once I realized you hadn't lied about being a vampire when we first met, I decided that maybe everything else you'd said since was right on the money as well."

Ah, yes. I had recalled the conversation we'd had several days after the fire was doused and our friends had discovered what I was. I distinctly remembered Emmett asking me, as he put it, to 'come clean'. I informed him that everything I had said was indeed, the truth as far as the girl's murder was concerned, and he in turn told me I had no case to answer regarding the pimp's death either. I did not question how he managed to prevent me from being charged, but expressed my gratitude for what he had done nonetheless. I also spoke of my regret over the girl's sister, who I'd known was being held somewhere, and hoped had managed to escape.

"So yeah, after Edward and I had that little talk, I decided to do a little further investigation of my own, and I found out that Mary's sister was missing. Their asshole parents hadn't even bothered to report either of them gone. It turned out the pimp that was killed had a lot of enemies...and had been holding Alice hostage in a mutual associate's basement. She'd been down there for weeks..." Emmett's voice trailed off as he watched Jasper's entire body tense in response.

I was thankful that Alice's modest attire of a long sleeved black shirt and matching dress pants covered her far too thin body, because I was certain her clothes concealed the scars of a woman who had been violated several times over.

"You see, Edward, though you couldn't save Mary's life that night, you saved mine, and stopped that bastard from ever hurting anyone again. I can't thank you enough for that," Alice said sincerely. Smiling through her tears, she took a long drink of water, her tiny hands shaking as she did so.

"How old was she?" I asked, curious, recalling how young and innocent Mary seemed and also remembering that scum had referred to her sister as being even younger.

"Mary would have been eighteen this year, just like me. She was my twin," she sighed. I frowned, and she added in explanation, "We've both always looked young for our ages. I was born second, and I'm smaller than her, so she always called me her little sister anyway. It used to drive me crazy, but now I'd give anything to hear her tease me about that again," Alice said, sniffling and rolling her tear-filled eyes.

"Oh, you poor child," Esme said sympathetically, her eyes glistening with venom. Carlisle nodded, giving Alice a sad smile, while Rosalie's eyes also filled with tears. My Isabella sniffled a few times, but did not move from her position.

"After our stepfather decided to get drunk and hit Mary because Mom had walked out on us, we ran away from home. Next thing I knew, we were living on the streets. We had no money, and no place else to go. I tried to get a job as a cook, but nobody wanted to hire a high school drop-out, even though I cooked for my family everyday. Then Joe came along. He charmed Mary right away...even offered us both a place to stay. I had no idea...he'd...he'd..." Her voice turned into a hoarse whisper, and I knew she was struggling to finish.

Sniffles and sobs filled the air, and I was considering breaking scene to comfort my mate, whose own tears were streaming down her face. I brushed them away and licked my fingers clean before threading my fingers through her hair, stroking the long tresses softly. My actions calmed her immediately.

"Green?" I whispered, just to be sure, and she nodded once, taking in a shuddering breath before exhaling.

Jasper's jaw was flexed and his eyes were wild with anger. He already felt protective of the girl, and I could not blame him for reacting in that manner. I knew if it were Isabella, I'd want to tear the man who had obviously raped this young woman limb from limb. Unable to stand witnessing her pain a moment longer, I spoke up.

"Well, my dear Alice, I want you to know something," I said softly. "Your sister was very brave that night, and actually died trying to protect you."

"Emmett told me that. Thank you so much for trying to save her, Edward." She sniffled.

"You are most welcome. I am just sorry I could not have done more," I answered with a sigh of my own, refilling my glass and inhaling the contents before feeding Isabella another morsel of food.

We all sat in silence for several long moments before the sound of Esme's comforting voice broke through.

"Well, let's not focus on things we cannot change. We are all here together, safe and sound, and I for one could not be happier," Esme said with a warm smile before she broached the subject of baby names for Emmett and Rosalie's child.

I watched the conversation morph into one of lighthearted banter, smiling as Alice and Jasper quietly conversed, secretly hoping that those two lost souls would find love and comfort in one another, while the rest of us argued over appropriate baby names.

I had never felt more content.

Not only had I become a part of something that was as close to a family as I could ever hope for, I belonged in a world that up until recently, I had never felt any kind of connection to.

As I continued to feed Isabella, revelling in her every soft moan of appreciation, immersing myself deeper into my Dominant character with every morsel that passed her glistening, lush lips, I still could not get over the fact she was mine, and would be so forever. As much as Esme being human had forced Carlisle to change her, my sire's theory was that considering Isabella's improved health, she would continue to live on indefinitely as long as she continued to feed from me.

That piece of news made me feel so overjoyed, it was beyond compare.

I sighed in contentment, the fear of losing my mate to the cruelty of time now a distant memory. It had not been easy once Isabella remembered everything; her story revealed in its entirety the moment we'd been rescued, memories of her past becoming clear the moment she awoke after drinking my blood. The anger I felt toward those who had made her life a living hell by using Isabella as nothing more than a guinea pig festered within me, and at one point threatened to destroy us both.

For her entire childhood and much of her adult life, Isabella had been held captive by the Brotherhood. Once Esme was gone, the hunters began performing unspeakable experiments on my mate, continually clouding her memories with their trickery while testing her pain threshold in the most brutal ways possible. They would drain her blood until she was barely alive, noting how long it would take her body to regenerate it; whip her until she bled and then watch on in fascination as she healed, while not a scar remained behind. They even broke several of her bones, just to see how quickly they would heal.

It's a wonder Isabella kept her sanity let alone survived; her strength and will to live nothing short of astounding. Her vampiric nature had everything to do with that, I was certain. Our ability to switch off emotions enabled our kind to not only kill with little regard for our victim, but derive strength from our own suffering. It meant Isabella was able to not only accept the pain, but to eventually crave it just to feel normal. It certainly went a long way to explain why the desire to be whipped was so deeply ingrained within her.

Though Isabella grew slowly, she showed no other signs that she was a vampire, and they became frustrated, unable to glean anything from her being alive, her humanness preventing them from killing her. Over time, Demetri even grew quite fond of my mate, eventually deciding she no longer be tortured, but instead trained so she could be recruited into their fold. Isabella refused, of course, knowing in her heart what they asked of her went against every one of her instincts.

Demetri was angered by her response, but at the same he wasn't the least bit surprised. They were, after all, natural enemies, their worlds poles apart and incapable of melding under normal circumstances. My mate was neither human nor vampire, but was instead a woman caught between two worlds; one she felt rejected by, the other as far as she knew having her as its one and only citizen.

After centuries of holding her captive, the Brotherhood finally decided to set Isabella free. Arranging for her to move to New York, Demetri provided her with enough funds to not only purchase a home, but put herself through college where she studied psychology. His parting gift was to fill Isabella's head with lies...fabrications of a life that was not hers. Memories of being a foster child and having no living relatives, of having a normal childhood replaced the torture she suffered over all those many years.

Once she'd graduated, Isabella moved to Los Angeles where she started up a private practice, and was introduced into the world of BDSM by one of her clients. It wasn't long after that she secured her job in radio, the hours freeing her to travel the world in order to add to her collection of antiquities, books and implements of torture, as well as allowing her ample time to train as a both a submissive and a Domme under the strict guidance of Mistress Rosalie. Once her health began to wane, Isabella sought answers from the most unlikely places after modern medicine had failed her. Researching everything from voodoo to black magic and wiccan culture, it wasn't until she began to study vampire lore that something unexplainable resonated within her. Sensing she was on the right track, Isabella made it her mission to find herself a vampire, anyway she could.

And the rest, as they say, is history.

It was both frightening and freeing witnessing my beautiful Mistress remembering all that had happened the moment she tasted my blood. I held her for many long hours after that night, allowing her to let out her frustrations, and even soothe me when what she told me became too much. She was so resilient, so brave and strong, her ability to forgive and move on nothing short of remarkable.

Instead of wallowing in the past, forever reliving the trauma, she explained that the hunters were doing nothing more than what their deeply ingrained instincts compelled them to do. It was why she was so accepting of me, I realised, and from that moment, I understood. She had forgiven them. Oh, Isabella was happy in the knowledge she had not only killed Demetri, but also helped bring down the Brotherhood, her revenge seeming to give her the sense of justice she so desperately needed, but being part human also meant she was overwhelmed by guilt as well. She had never taken a life before, and told me that even if it meant her own demise, she would never kill again, no matter the circumstance.

As much as I disagreed with her sentiments, I respected them nonetheless.

Picking up the napkin and wiping my pet's mouth, I asked with a smile, "Finished?"

She nodded, her eyes still fixed to the floor in front of her. Pouring one more glass of blood down my throat, I wiped my own mouth before tossing the soiled linen onto the table before standing.

"If you will excuse us."

"Of course," Carlisle said with a bow of his head.

"Enjoy," Rosalie said with a wicked grin and a twinkle in her eye.

"Oh, don't worry, I fully intend to," I whispered before turning my attention to my submissive, my fingers still wrapped within her hair. "Come along now, girl. We have much to explore."


Final Scene

The dungeon was perfect: everything in its place as I closed the door behind us.

My beautiful girl was resplendent as she crawled inside the room behind me, and then stopped the moment I did with her eyes down, body language perfectly submissive.

I had recreated her playroom from the States down to the last detail, though of course on a far grander scale, and with a few vital additions. The ceilings were much higher and graced with strategically placed spotlights as well as several chains and pulleys. Cabinets were scattered about the room filled to the brim with the most valued items of her collection. The large king sized bed with a huge black-curtained canopy was against one of the three freshly painted crimson walls. Directly next to it sat a credenza filled with every conceivable toy known to man, above which hung several paintings and tapestries.

One wall remained untouched, the rusted manacles mounted to the damp, blood and mould-riddled stone helping to project a far darker atmosphere.

A large antique armoire containing several outfits we'd bought since our arrival in addition to a first aid kit, fire blanket, and extinguisher was on the far wall furthest away from the door. All around the room hung a vast collection of venom-laden daggers, some on display, others secreted in various locations in case of an emergency. I was not about to take any chances. When it came to protecting those I cared about, I would pull out all the stops to ensure their safety.

The St. Andrew's cross that had once graced Isabella's dungeon sat proudly in the corner on one side of the room while a new table, one very similar to the one destroyed in the fire, was to the right of the bed.

But these modern playthings were not going to be of use to us tonight ... oh, no. I had far more interesting plans in store for my submissive.

The apparatus that sat proudly in the centre of the room directly beneath the largest spotlight was what my pet would be deriving her pleasure from this evening.

"Up," I commanded pulling her hair by the roots, thus forcing her to stand quickly. Isabella let out a hiss, but complied nonetheless, drawing in a gasp as her eyes locked upon the old decaying timber of the antique Spanish donkey. It had always been one of her favorite pieces, and I thought it fitting we use something that had once been considered a torture device for our evening of play. Oh, yes, my Isabella was a pain slut, that I already knew; I intended to see just how much torture could be inflicted upon her flawless, alabaster skin before she begged me to stop.

We had spent these past weeks testing both our limits as part of my training, and I knew every square inch of her, inside and out.

I was ready.

Ready to take her to the brink and back again; ready to push her body beyond the realms of anything she ever thought possible.

My cock was so hard that I feared just my girl's breath on it would make me come undone, but I was not about to lose control.

Not yet, anyway ...

Stalking around my mate, I could not take my eyes off her as she stood there under the harsh light: still, head bowed, and hands clasped behind her back.

She was just so perfect.

"Strip!" I commanded, and she complied by quickly unzipping her dress and allowing it to pool at her feet. A feral growl rumbled from deep within my chest while I soaked in the sight before me.

She wore nothing but a leather thong, and her full, voluptuous breasts were now adorned with silver hoop piercings, which was a wonderful surprise in itself. But as I moved to stand behind her, staring down at the new black and blood red tattoo I'd requested she acquire which now sat enticingly above her arse crack, a shiver ran through my entire body. Not only was the insignia of my ring there, the tattoo marking her as mine forever, interwoven within the delicate filigree pattern that surrounded the pentagram were the Latin words 'ut in perpetuum', meaning 'forever as one'.

My little submissive moaned as I traced my fingers along the ink, but remained in position nonetheless.

"Beautiful," I spoke softly into her ear before reaching for her thong and running my fingers underneath the fine leather strap of her underwear. Pulling the material aside, I tapped my fingers against the metal base of the butt plug she wore. She was already soaking wet; my slickened fingers as I traced them around the stretched muscle of her arsehole before moving lower and circling over the hot, slick opening of her tight little cunt telling me so.

"Feel free to make any sound you so wish, but you will not speak or come without my permission. Nod if you understand."

She nodded, and I tore the thong off her then thrust two fingers inside her tight, wet heat, my actions eliciting a desperate moan from deep within her. Curling my fingers forward like a snake sinking its fangs into its prey, I twisted them and pushed hard against the bumpy skin that lay deep inside her. My other hand reached around and pulled harshly at one, and then the other piercing, causing her already pebbled nipples to become rock hard.

I could tell she was already on the verge of coming, the way her body tensed and pulsed around my probing digits. It would be so easy to allow her release, but I wanted to prolong the agony, so I reluctantly removed my fingers, her whimper of protest causing me to smile as I licked off the copious amounts of her sweetness.

"Not yet, girl. Now take off those shoes, then climb up and straddle this donkey, arse hanging off the end here," I ordered while tapping my fingers against one end of the apparatus.

Stepping out of her shoes and hoisting herself up, she let out a long, loud moan as her perfectly shaped legs straddled the donkey. The thin rubber layer of the vibrating mat that covered its surface did little to stop the pain that I knew was now washing through her. The already swollen lips of her soaking wet pussy were spread wide apart as the sharp edge that ran the entire length of the top threatened to split her in two. I picked up the manacles that were anchored to the floor and locked them around her ankles before doing the same to her wrists. By the time I'd tightened the last of the four pulleys, her arms and legs were stretched wide, every muscle tight and straining, while venom leached from her mouth and ran down her heaving chest.

She looked spectacular.

My pet let out a surprised shriek as I grasped her hair and roughly pulled her head to the side, exposing her pulsing throat. Unable to resist sampling her, I quickly latched onto her neck and scraped my bared teeth against her delicate skin, piercing it just enough to draw a tiny amount of blood.

"Yes!" she cried as I lapped up the tiny droplets of heaven, her response causing me to seal the wound, let go, and take a step back.

"Must I gag you? Now, lower your eyes, and do not utter a sound! I won't repeat myself again," I barked, making sure she complied before I moved toward the armoire. Slowly stripping off every item of clothing before hanging it neatly, I took my time in order to allow her to regain her composure. Next, I moved to the credenza and pulled out the custom made flogger and remote control, my hard and leaking cock bouncing against my stomach with every movement I made.

Standing before her, flogger in one hand and remote in the other, I whispered in a low voice, "Look at me."

Her already darkened eyes immediately met with mine, and venom began to flow freely from my cock and mouth, her own sweet-smelling juices doing their damndest to leach down the mat and drip onto the stone floor.

Swishing the flogger through the air before brushing the ends of over the inside of her thigh, I watched as she clenched her teeth while the jagged metal barbs scratched the surface of her skin.

Moving closer, I whispered in a dark voice into the shell of her ear, "Prepare yourself, girl. I'm about to flay you within an inch of your life." Her entire body shook in response to my words.

Circling my prey several times until I finally stood behind her, I flicked the flogger through the air, the swishing sound causing her to let out a needy whimper. At the same time the jagged tips of the metal made contact with her right shoulder blade, I switched on the remote to its lowest setting before setting it down on the end of the bed.

"Ugh," she grunted and threw her head back while attempting to thrust her hips forward. The minute amount of movement she was able to make caused the plug to lodge deeper inside her, and I was certain the vibrations against the base would only add to her pleasure.

"So responsive," I muttered as I struck her more firmly, this time changing the angle so the flogger caressed her back and wrapped around her torso. Red marks were already blooming on her skin, and with the increasing strength of my strokes, I knew that I'd have her bleeding and begging for mercy in no time. "But there's something missing."

Picking up the weighted nipple clamps off the floor, I deftly attached them to the piercings and let them drop, each weight dragging her nipples downward as they dangled either side of the donkey.

"Mmmnh!" she cried, panting through the pain as I tugged on one, and then the other chain before slowly twisting the end of the plug.

"Now that's much better," I said with a wicked smile. "Are we green? Nod your answer."

Trying to calm her breathing, her face already crinkled with a mixture of pleasure and pain, she nodded quickly.

Circling her once more, I licked my lips at the sight of her venom continuing to flow freely from her mouth and pussy, mixing deliciously with the beads of sweat that coated her body.

The thwacking sound as the flogger came into contact with her right arse cheek followed by my pet's accompanying hiss when I used a bit more force was nothing compared to the sight of the row of tiny droplets of blood that rose to the surface of her skin and seeped out.

Her arousal increased in potency, penetrating my every pore as I struck her once, twice, then thrice in succession, blood and welts blooming across her upper back and left hip.


"Ahhhhh!" she cried as her cheeks puffed with exertion and her toes curled while her entire body shook as more blood appeared and began to run down her back.

She was teetering on the edge – of that I was certain – the pain my mate was now experiencing giving her what she had craved all these long years. I wasn't far behind her, the smell of her blood, sex, and sweat never failing to arouse me beyond rational thought.

I had mastered my control at the very sight and smell of her essence over the past weeks; the desire to drain her dry was a long-distant memory, the need to sample her as though she were the finest of wines now far more prevalent. I had learned a way to channel my animalistic urges into not only taking just what I needed of her blood, but also pleasuring my mate in the best ways possible. As much as I loathed to admit it, since meeting this beautiful creature I had begun to embrace my humanness. Not only had I not taken a single life since meeting my mate, I realised I had gained a respect for those whom I'd once treated as nothing more than a means to an end.

Isabella had bestowed so many gifts upon me that at times I felt unworthy.

Turning up the settings on the remote, I slowly traced my fingers over her wounds before I grasped my cock and tugged at it mercilessly. Mixing her blood with my venom, I quickly released my aching shaft and shoved my bloodied digits into her open and waiting mouth.

"Taste us," I commanded.

Closing her lips around my fingers before sucking them as hard as she could, she moaned as her razor-sharp fangs scraped my skin, swallowing every last remnant of our leavings. Removing my fingers, I crashed my lips to hers, one of my fangs slicing open her bottom lip just before I thrust my tongue into her mouth with wild abandon and hungrily lapped up everything she gave.

I did not relent until the blood had clotted and she was panting for air.

"You may verbalise what you feel, but do not come," I instructed, knowing that it would be impossible for her to hold back from this moment on.

"Th-thank you, Master," she answered, wheezing breathily, her chest rising and falling as her lungs screamed for oxygen.

When I struck her inner thigh with the flogger, the primal scream she let out as one of the jagged thorns caught her swollen clitoris and drew blood was music to my ears.

"Ah, yes!" I groaned at the very sight of her pink, glistening pussy becoming bathed in red.

"Oh, fuck!" she roared, her teeth snapping and head thrashing about as I marked her other thigh, and then struck her chest and stomach until satisfied she'd had enough. I dropped the flogger, the metallic sound loud as it clattered to the floor, and watched in wonder whilst blood began to appear on her already straining and elongated nipples. I could not resist tugging on them one by one before releasing the weights.

"Agh!" Isabella cried as the blood began to drip down the surface of her reddened and abused peaks.

"Need more," I moaned, craving to drink of her from the source, my shaft leaking and dripping copious amounts of venom onto the floor.

"Please!" my submissive begged, lust and pain mingling beautifully in her voice as her entire body shuddered.

Closing my lips around one of the hardened nipples and biting down, I drew her deep inside my mouth and suckled on her like a babe would its mother.

"Fuck, girl, you taste so good." My voice was muffled by her nipple as I continued to drink greedily, her delicious venom-laced blood coating my chin and lips. Tugging harshly on the other nipple with one hand, I reached down with my free one and pressed my index finger hard against her clitoris.

Letting go of her breast I quickly moved behind her, and my body shook with so much need that I felt as though I could implode at any moment.

The need to conquer her.

The desire to have her give in to the feelings I knew nobody else but me was capable of bringing out.

Without warning, I tore the plug free from her and tossed it away, and she yelped in response.

"And now...to claim that tight little arse that's been teasing me all night," I growled in a low, throaty voice as I pressed my chest to her back, the blood and sweat that poured from her causing our skin to slide together deliciously.

"Master!" she shrieked at the top of her lungs when I thrust inside her in one swift movement, my venom providing ample lubrication to begin pounding inside her mercilessly without thought of allowing her to adjust.

Her entire body was a livewire, and as she screamed and thrashed her head and begged to come, I continued to deny her – all the while trying to stave off my own release.

"You will not come until I command!" I roared while wrapping my arm around her and pulling harshly on her piercing. The fingers of my other hand began to circle her clitoris hard enough that I felt even more blood flow from the swollen nub and drip onto the mat.

Pressing my forehead into her shoulder I watched, fascinated as my thick, glistening cock continued to thrust in and out of her tiny body with such force that I swore I could hear her muscles and joints groan in protest.

"Master, please! I can't..." she begged, her arse suddenly pulsing around my cock, the lust and pain in her voice driving me to the edge.

I could stand it no longer. Balls drawn up tight and my entire body shaking, I yelled at the top of my lungs as I continued my assault on her arse, "Come, girl!"

"Aaaaaaaaaah!" Isabella yelled as she let go, her tight little tunnel repeatedly squeezing my cock with such force; it was as if she was trying to strangle me to death.

And what a way to go.

"So. Fucking. Good!" I panted in between each thrust, knowing I was on the verge of emptying my balls deep within her. Her head lolled to the side, and as I sank my fangs into her shoulder, taking long draws of her ambrosia at the same time I came deep inside her arse, I continued to abuse her blood engorged nipples and clitoris at the same time.

Releasing my mouth from her soft, buttery skin, blood flowing down my throat and chest, I had never felt so sated.

So euphoric.

So alive!

"Oh, Isabella," I sighed, panting harshly against her throat. I listened as her breathing slowed, her constant heartbeat music to my ears, her presence always bringing me back from the rabid animal I was to where I needed to be.

Still, her head was leaning unnaturally to one side, and as I pulled out of her body and brought her face up to look into her blackened eyes, I knew.


For the very first time Isabella was experiencing sensory overload: her eyes rolling within their sockets, her mouth gaping, body shaking uncontrollably.

Smiling, I quickly released her from her binds before carrying her to the bed, happy I had been able to transport her to the place she had always craved to go, but until now had never reached.

The place only I was capable of taking her to.

Watching as her fangs slowly retracted, I kissed her sweetly, and then stroked her damp and tangled hair while whispering words of comfort, gently coaxing her back to me.

I rolled her onto her back, and then laid next to her so I could lick her wounds until they were perfectly healed before doing the same to her front, all the while talking to her in hushed tones. Slowly, worshipfully, I soothed her with my lips and tongue, making sure her breasts and clitoris received extra special attention.

"Mmmm," my girl moaned as her fingers tangled through my hair and tugged while I lapped at the delicate skin of her opening and drank her venom laced come before crawling up her body and pressing my lips against hers. Her eyes still closed, she kissed me slowly, languidly in return before her tongue lapped up the blood that covered my jaw and throat.

"Scene over," I announced softly, looking into her beautiful, bright and blinking eyes as they opened and looked deeply into my own. "How do you feel?"

"Oh, God, Edward, I – I can't explain ..." She shook her head, unable to articulate what she was feeling in that moment. "Thank you."

"You are more than welcome," I said with a light laugh, pressing a kiss to her sweet lips once more. "May we do that again please, Mistress?" I asked eagerly, unable to hide my desperation.

Rolling me over, she lay on top of me, giving me a warm, sated smile. "Is a frog's ass water tight?"

I laughed heartily at her quip, thrusting my hips upward as I grabbed her lush arse cheeks in both hands, loving the feel of her under my fingers, relishing her heat as my cock slid between her slick folds.

"Well, I don't know about a frog's arse, but your arse, my naughty little vampire," I said, slapping her left cheek, "is very tight indeed!"

Her responding giggle was music to my ears, and I couldn't help but grin as I watched her face light up with mirth while she threw her head back and let go, but once our eyes locked, all fell silent.

"I love you, Edward," she proclaimed in a melodic voice, her declaration causing my heart to soar.

"As I love you, my sweet, beautiful Isabella," I countered, wrapping my arms around her and holding her close, never wanting to let her go.

As I kissed her and slid inside her tight, welcoming heat, her steady heart beating against my long-dead one as we made love, we promised we'd always be...forever as one...


A/N: I hope you enjoyed. Now, please, click that little love button and let me know your thoughts. Until next time! Much love xx