Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight.

But she doesn't own sex.

Swing Low Sweet Chariot

Excerpt from Chapter One: Theatre of the Night

Lucky vampires had guard dogs. Bella was luckier than most, she had Jacob. He appeared to be in his mid-twenties, stood over six and a half feet tall and had long dark straight hair that complemented his olive complexion. As a man, his kind face betrayed his hulking mass, but when enraged, he became a wolf twice his size and the transformation alone was famously frightening.

Jacob's loyalty was fierce and he served Bella in many ways. Tonight he was a bouncer.

His usual duties included protecting Bella during the day while she slept, procuring and disposing of her gentlemen callers, and some light cleaning and maintenance on the theater.

You know…the dirty work.

He was well paid for his services but owed Bella his life and would never leave her side. Except, of course, when she hit the higher notes on stage. His hearing was even more acute than hers and, coupled with a particular sensitivity to higher frequencies, he often slipped into the lobby or even onto the street to escape the piercing invasion. Since the performance had just begun Jacob was still in the auditorium and he too heard "Bella Voce."

He watched as Bella looked for then found her prey. A moment later she looked at Jacob who obediently waited for her command. A hint of a nod confirmed that he was to invite the unfortunate bastard to meet his maker.

The show was a remarkable experience for those congregated. Bella was as skilled as she was beautiful and she hypnotized the crowd with ease. Literally. She learned recently (within the last fifty years) that she had developed certain abilities. Hypnotism was the first and easiest skill she cultivated. Even mass hypnosis required little more than her presence. The tricky part was to provide and institute a 'release' for anyone inadvertently mesmerized. Without direction, a dazed person might just sit in their chair after the show or might go out into the street and get trampled by a horse.

Bella was becoming more powerful every year but since she planned to retire after a decade or two and move to America she felt that she could handle the unintended side effect of her performances. She had never taken advantage of her control and developed a release cue in her last aria: Mozart's Queen of the Night from The Magic Flute.

That night she felt very antsy on stage and wanted badly to be alone with her unkempt beauty. She even cut a few numbers much to the delight of her rapidly sobering orchestra. Bella liked to look at the pretty boys but never touched and never allowed herself to be possessed by anyone. She was a maid when she was transformed and although she recognized stirrings and desires she didn't get along well with other vampires and humans were out of the question.

As the ovation spilled out in a wave that threatened to make Bella almost blush for the second time that night, she drifted to the back of the stage, opened one of two closed doors and disappeared inside where she waited for Jacob to bring her dessert.

The crowd rose almost as one when the curtains slid together again and Jacob was already en route. He could not exactly see who Bella had chosen but he knew the general area she was focused on and, besides, he knew her type.

The gentleman was exactly what Jacob had expected, shy and shaking. At closer inspection, Jacob realized he was a bit young for his mistress but appeared strong and handsome and quietly alert. Oh yes, he was her type alright. Jacob approached the boy.

"Excuse me, Mr. ah?"

The young man gazed up at the giant dark man and stammered. "Cul-Cullen. Edward Cullen." He remembered his manners and hastily included, "and this is my sister, Rosalie."

"Mr. and Miss Cullen please forgive the imposition." He turned to face Edward. "Miss Swan has asked to meet you, Sir."

Edward became so wide eyed that Jacob had to discretely cover his grin with an errant playbill he recovered from the floor on his way down. Rosalie, who was threatened by all beautiful women, rolled her eyes and countered with "No. Thank you. We have to get home."

Jacob hadn't anticipated the complication but knew exactly what to say to part the two siblings for the night. He took her hand in his massive paw and said, "My dear Miss Cullen. I would not dream of delaying you a minute longer and, if your brother will permit me, I should like to see you to your door by way of my private carriage."

"I'm not sure." Edward said, obviously torn. "I should accompany my sister home."

Rosalie fixed her brother with a well practiced glare that said, "Don't you dare ruin this for me."

"Don't be such a prude, Edward! Shall we?" Rosalie breezed by her brother and took Jacob's arm. She was secretly thrilled as she had just saved herself a miserable walk with her insufferably boring brother. And now she had the opportunity to make friends with this very large and attractive beast.

Edward shrugged his shoulders.

"Splendid!" Jacob cheered, his smile almost as big as his hands. "Mr. Cullen, would you please go through the double doors at the rear of the stage? Miss Swan will be expecting you shortly."

With that, Jacob and Rosalie were gone.

Jacob led her up the aisle by the hand. She was stunning with blond curls framing dark blue eyes. Her red lips parted as she told him something while they moved through the lobby but he did not hear a word of it. This was a rarity for Jacob, a side effect of the blood pounding in his head.

His desire for her was undeniable and was ignited the moment he took her hand. It also took him quite by surprise. Jacob had never indulged in the pleasures of a woman since the death of his beloved, Leah. The absence of physical love was not a sacrifice that pained Jacob, he simply had not been compelled to act. After a few centuries, he had all but forgotten about his libido but now, within mere moments, it came roaring back. Jacob quickened his step to deliver the young woman safely inside the coach before he could lose control and tear the dress from her glorious body in a passionate frenzy.

"Where am I taking you, Miss Cullen?" he asked, his dark eyes locked onto hers and his voice was low. He needed directions to her house but felt that when he heard her voice again he might whimper with need.

"Can we take a ride around the city first?" she asked without a hint of shyness or nervousness.

"Sure we can." Jacob did not know if it was a good idea to prolong his encounter with her but the words were out before he could stop them.

And so the deed would be done.

Rosalie took one look at the carriage and knew that she would be in for a nice ride. It was sea cave black and had many ornate carvings that turned it into a rolling work of art. This was an original and, judging from the smile on his face, Rosalie could tell that Jacob had built it. It was obviously built for a specific purpose but she could not tell what that purpose was. Its design was contrary to all other carriages of the day. Where they were open and simple, his was covered and showered in detail.

Rosalie thought it was indeed beautiful but would have loved to see some nice big windows in it instead of the tiny square openings on each door. The two horses attached to the coach were gorgeous and their hair was as black and shiny as Jacob's. They matched the coach right down to the wheel spokes and, paired with the horses, made it look more impressive.

If the carriage was a stunning work of art, than the man leading her to it was a temple for her to worship at.

Preferably on her knees.

He was devastatingly handsome, with just the right amount of youth in his face and man in his body. His smile was genuine and she could tell immediately that he was a loving but mischievous person. Rosalie, herself, had a chip on her shoulder the size of Montmartre but immediately felt it crumbling in his presence.

Rosalie was a very modern woman.

Even for Paris.

Even for bohemian Paris.

She had been with three other men but had at least half a dozen past beaus. Rosalie kept her reputation intact as a lady as her former lovers would never do anything to jeopardize their chances to have her again.

Rosalie wanted Jacob in ways she had never imagined. He was certainly the most beautiful man she had ever seen and his quiet charm had been a refreshing change from the garish brutes who usually attempted to woo her.

Jacob opened the coach door for Rosalie and she stepped in, taking his hand and making him pant in the process. She sat on the lush emerald green cushion that lined the entire back of the carriage and put her feet up casually on the opposite cushion as Jacob closed the door.

"Just let me know when you have seen enough and are ready to go home," he said through the window. "It's quiet enough on the streets tonight that I'll be able to hear you."

He could have heard her breathing, of course, and caught himself doing just that as they traveled over gray streaked stones that made his horses' footfalls ring out like hand claps carried on cooling air.

Rosalie peered out the windows on occasion but mostly lounged on the soft interior fantasizing about the magnificently handsome driver whom she wished was in there with her.

She knew how men appreciated her and, although it may have made her arrogant, it did not make her wrong. Rosalie had only known Jacob for minutes and was not sure if she had captivated the dark haired coachman's fancy like she did so many before him. Fully understanding her attraction for him, she acted impulsively and decided to make a small gesture to see if he was interested or not.

When Rosalie gave Jacob her address twenty minutes into her late night tour, he was relieved and saddened all at once. He was not sure if he could resist her a minute longer. He was aware that she began breathing heavier after he had seated her. He was also aware that she had labored over something or other for the better part of a minute but could not work out what had her so focused.

The birds, hoodwinked by the electric lights available only in Paris, sang short sweet songs as the carriage snuck through the sleepy streets and rocked Rosalie back and forth. She was ready to go home alright and now knew she was not going to take 'no' for an answer when they arrived.

Rosalie had already loosened or removed much of her complicated undergarments in preparation for her bold seduction and was feeling flush with excitement. When the carriage rolled to a slow stop, she held her breath while she listened for him to jump down, murmur something to the horses and approach the door.

Jacob noticed immediately that the shutters had been closed on both windows as he opened the door and eagerly offered his hand to the waiting beauty inside.

She grasped his hand quickly but, instead of standing up, the woman pulled him inside.


Jacob ducked his head just in time as he allowed himself to be tugged inward and he sat down heavily on the bench opposite

Rosalie. Her cheeks were red and he could see a small pile of delicates resting on the cushion next to her. Jacob was surprised, but he was not stupid. He closed the door firmly and moved over to join her.

He accepted long ago that he had become a creature of instinct and most of his instincts were good. In this moment, they were overwhelmingly strong and he instantly decided that if fate was going to cross his path with a randy fair headed siren then he was not about to question or reject his impulses.

"I didn't dare hope that you would be this bold," he whispered roughly as he closed the door, leaving them in total darkness.

"You haven't seen bold yet," came the throaty and sensual response.

Jacob reached under the bench and opened a small door in its base. He pulled out a small lantern and hung it on a hook nestled in the ceiling of the coach. With a few expert strikes of a flint, warm candlelight caressed the interior. Jacob's eyes were still readjusting to the softly lit space when he was accosted by a pair of large white breasts capped with dark nipples, rising up in hard anticipation.

She had wiggled out of most of her dress in the dark and the rest of the garment was peeled away quickly over the next several minutes while frantic hands stripped both parties down to their quivering skin.

Jacob was the last to be completely undressed, Rosalie kneeling patiently to remove his boots while he sat on the soft cushion and scooted his trousers down his legs. When Rosalie had him devoid of clothes, she regarded what she had uncovered.

She was intimidated by what she saw.

He looked like a brown schooner with a single great mast piercing the clouds and, even after Rosalie grabbed onto him placing one hand above the other, she still looked like she was wielding a giant club.

Jacob leaned his head back against the dark wood at the back of the coach while Rosalie leaned into the dark wood in front of her. She covered the remaining exposed flesh with her mouth and diligently worked herself up and down until he was slick and ready for what she wanted next.

He had never experienced this kind of attention from a woman. It seemed so scandalous yet was beyond any pleasure he was aware of. The combination of the attentive suction and the ability to watch her take him in was maddeningly surreal, and he had a feeling that it would serve him well for the rest of his life. Given what Bella had planned for Edward he doubted that he would ever see her again and that realization cost him a moment or two of joy as he accepted the disappointment.

Satisfied that she had made a lasting first impression, Rosalie stood up and turned around, giving him a leisurely inspection of her compact behind, then preceded to sit down on the slippery mass that she had been grasping with one tight fist as a guide.

She inhaled sharply as his enormous and silky smooth offering filled her so completely that she squeezed her eyes shut with the intensity of it. Jacob likewise was struggling with the sharp and immediate pleasure that gripped him and fluttered around him as she slowly pushed herself up and down.

Jacob's big yet soft hands held her by her sides loosely so that her smooth skin could glide beneath his fingers and her blonde curls cascaded into his upturned face. The carriage began to shudder with the force of her piston movements and she moaned softly as he reached his hands around to cup her ample breasts. They were plumb in his large hands and he held them gently for a while but when she placed one hand over his and squeezed it, he began rubbing them and pushing them together.

She loved how big his hands were. His skin was rough but his touch was light, even when he was kneading her yielding flesh.

She could hear soft grunts of pleasure coming from the man behind and beneath her as she leaned forward and continually bobbed up and down with her hands on her knees. After several minutes, his soft grunts turned to stark gasps that mirrored her own.

Rosalie sat up straight and his hands found her breasts again hungrily, finding and squeezing her plump nipples. As they climaxed he pushed his hips up hard to meet her and she almost bumped her head on the ceiling, the lantern momentarily blurry with its proximity.

She collapsed backwards against his sweaty chest and felt his heart pounding into her back. When the raspy cadence of his breathing began to ebb, she slowly removed herself from his anchor.

"I'll give you ten minutes," Rosalie informed him, moving to the other side of the coach, not bothering to get dressed. "Then we go again."

Jacob would have laughed, perhaps nervously, but the desire in her voice and the searing passion in her eyes communicated that she was not kidding. They remained seated across from one another in silent regard and admiration until Rosalie wordlessly sprawled out on the wide bench putting her feet flat on the ceiling. Jacob obediently swept over to her, covering her and proceeded to shake with pleasure as he filled her with a thick heavenly heat. He buried his face in her neck, slowly working his kisses up to her cheeks, eyes, chin and, finally, her mouth.

When his lips met hers for the first time, she sighed hungrily, urging him on harder and faster.

He held himself up with strong arms that now glistened with perspiration and his long black hair was a curtain Rosalie never wanted to leave. Sometimes he smiled down at her as he thrust with intoxicatingly controlled strength and sometimes he stared at her wavering breasts as they bounded up and down with the force of his gait.

They made love until the interior of the carriage grew warm and humid then took another break before their third venture. It began and ended with him flat on his back on the floor and her straddling him and using both cushions to tantalize him, hovering over his hard body and brushing his skin with her velvet pink flesh before gobbling up the stiff result of her endeavors.

She felt him climax in this position, a pulsing rush of heat that left her giddy and ready for bed. Jacob even wondered if he would sleep for the first time in centuries. That third time really took it out of them.

By the forth time, Rosalie was in love.

After his introduction to Bella, Edward floated home. The narrow streets of Paris were well traveled, even after midnight, and he had plenty of people to beam at as he strolled in the moonlight. As he turned onto his own street, Edward spotted Jacob riding towards him. He was sitting in the bucket of a huge chariot made of black polished wood.

Rosalie must have invited him in, Edward thought as he raised his hand in a wave.

Upon seeing Edward, Jacob's impassive face was suddenly consumed by a look of confusion. When he had escorted Rosalie home, Jacob expected he would never see her brother alive again. He had only expected to return home to retrieve Edward's body from a stainless steel tub deep in the bowels of the theatre. Various scenarios rapidly began running through Jacob's mind. How had Edward escaped? Had Bella let Edward leave on his own? Or, least likely of all, had Edward harmed Bella? As this last question entered his mind, Jacob's heart began to race. He tried desperately to conceal his worst fears.

Edward, unaware of Jacob's conflict, stopped when he saw Jacob pull back on the reins.

"How are you this evening, Edward?" Jacob asked cautiously.

"Wonderful. How are you?" Edward's bright smile was dazzling.

Jacob studied Edward's response and body language carefully. Edward appeared very relaxed. He did not come across like someone who had just fought with and possibly killed a vampire. As startling as Edward's presence was for Jacob, he simply could not imagine this boy hurting his mistress. Nevertheless, Jacob needed to piece together the facts.

"I'm fine." Jacob kept his voice measured. "Did you have a good time with Bella?"

"Oh yes, and she's invited me to come play for her tomorrow evening."

Jacob's confusion now intensified but he also found himself filled with relief. "Wonderful. I'll be looking for you."

Edward watched as Jacob gathered the leather reins in his gloved hands. "You left with Rosalie so long ago." Edward observed. "Did she invite you in?"

Jacob smiled, a trace of humor reaching his eyes. "Why…yes. Yes, she did invite me in. Good Night."

He tapped the lead horse on the hip with a riding crop and the horses trotted him past Edward. The two men exchanged farewell waves at they passed closest to each other and Edward thought how nice it was that Rosalie had met someone as friendly as Jacob. If she had asked him into the house, it must mean she was interested in him as a suitor. True, Rosalie had never lacked for male attention but Jacob seemed different from her usual choices. And given her persistent bad mood, Edward was suddenly hopeful that some of Jacob's goodness would bring out his sister's lighter side. They rarely saw eye to eye, however, Edward wanted nothing but the best for his one and only sister.

Up On the Roof

Excerpt from Chapter Seven: The Pit

Sunday, as usual, was Edward's biggest lesson day. Esme made pitcher after pitcher of lemonade for the endless stream of houseguests assisted by Rosalie, who joined her in the garden that afternoon. She was secretly admiring her brother's technique as he taught and enjoyed his talent when he occasionally trembled the floorboards with his ferocious abandon. Edward's musical maturity far exceeded his physical years and he held a confidence that allowed him to take risks musically. Rosalie heard him mixing elements, pushing tempo, and dynamically stripping down a song to a layer so thin she caught herself holding her breath.

She would never admit it out loud but, when Jacob sang his song out over the Seine the previous evening, Rosalie had been overjoyed to find someone who shared her brother's talents. As she reflected over the fine memory, she smiled and wondered what other surprises Jacob had in store for her.

When he arrived in the late afternoon, Rosalie was softened up by the delicate caresses of music that had played in the garden since mid morning. She gladly walked between his outstretched arms and pressed herself into his massive chest. His black hair was just long enough to stroke her cheek as she melted in his strong embrace. She had never known happiness like this.

Esme offered him a drink, which he accepted. Jacob was then introduced to Madame Maurice who was waiting for her daughter, Claudette, to complete her lesson. The four of them sat in the shady courtyard and enjoyed the practice of a focused and advanced student. She and Edward were playing complicated duets, both of them luring brilliant sounds from the polished instrument.

When Edward escorted Claudette out to meet her mother, Jacob gave him a polite wave and a subtle nod of his head that suggested he had something to discuss. While he and Esme walked both women to the front door, Jacob spoke to Rosalie in a warm voice.

"Hello my Rose." He scooted closer to her on the stone gargoyle bench.

"Hello, Jacob." She smiled. "Another message for Edward I take it?" She breathed wearily.

"I don't need to have a message for your brother to spirit me to your side, Love," he said reassuringly.

"Oh," she said, embarrassed. "Thank you, Jacob." She rested her head on his meaty arm as Edward strolled back into the afternoon shade.

"Hello, Edward," Jacob said as a grin tugged at his mouth. "I have a message for you."

Rosalie protested noisily and slapped Jacob's arm before storming off in faux fury.

"What was that about?" Edward asked watching his sister through the windows as she continued her tirade indoors.

"Just keeping her interested that's all." Jacob stood and nudged Edward hard in the ribs and laughed like a kid at a carnival.

Edward looked at him seriously. "Don't push her too far, my friend. Rosalie has a line and if it's crossed there is no going back."

Jacob accepted the advice with sincerity and informed Edward that his presence was needed at the theatre for that night's rehearsal. Initially, Edward was thrilled but then briefly reflected on the orchestra's reaction to his banter with Bella. Despite his nervousness, he decided to trust her and focused on the opportunity to look at some of the newer and unusual instruments in the pit. Edward was fascinated with the music science that Bella brought to her stage and, of course, was eager to see her again under any circumstances.

Edward accepted the invitation and Jacob went inside to seek out his wounded flower. "I'll be back at ten," he said as he walked into the house.

Edward was playing the piano and waiting for his next student to arrive when Jacob snuck Rosalie up to the flat sand roof that perfectly demonstrated how the Cullen house appeared as a white horseshoe from above. It was covered in beach sand which soaked up the rain and kept the house's wood frame insulated. It was a trend of the era that did not last long, as it had to be replaced too often. For this afternoon's purposes, however, it was as if it had been written for a fairytale - a private beach in the middle of Paris.

Carlisle first told Jacob about the anomaly when they were discussing insulation techniques over breakfast one day. Jacob investigated the roof soon after and discovered an oasis where he could sun bathe with his beauty.

Since meeting Rosalie, Jacob tasted sugar in the very air. There had been several erotic encounters with her - their first time in his chariot and, more recently, in Bella's private box during opening night of her Salsa show.

They had also shared many emotional moments and their chemistry was magical. Rosalie trusted Jacob, sharing her mind as well as her body and he felt like he could be himself around her.

There was still the matter of his wolf form but Jacob had impressive control of that particular skill and rarely used it. A transformation hurt like hell and he never got used to the pain. He knew that his fate walked hand in hand with Rosalie's but wanted to make sure she was ready to handle such a unorthodox omission.

Rosalie never hid a thing from him. She even told him that her parents had discovered their indiscretion in the carriage the night they met. She told him the day he brought Edward's first letter from Bella after he fell through the stage. In response, Jacob had surprised her by immediately asking her to marry him. He also insisted on addressing both Esme and Carlisle to state his request and present himself as a worthy husband.

Rosalie told him that marriage was not necessary but that she was flattered for the proposal. As consolation, he was allowed to speak with both Carlisle and Esme in the garden. The sun was pouring over his long black hair as he told them how he would spend his life caring for Rosalie. He also told them that he would rather be asking for Carlisle's permission to marry his daughter but how Rosalie declined him.

Jacob told her father that his proposal was sincere before he turned to Rosalie. He held her gaze and told her that he would love her forever and wait forever for her to say 'yes.'

Rosalie and her parents thought it was one of the sweetest things they had ever seen. Carlisle damn near cried and Esme was inconsolable for ten minutes.

The memory of that day sprinted through Rosalie's mind now as Jacob led her upstairs to her room where they would climb her balcony to the roof. He lifted her up first and then scrambled after. He had a feeling that this was going to be a memorable afternoon.

"Your mom said that you like pumpernickel bread and jam," Jacob said, as he kicked off his shoes to let the warm sand massage his rough feet.

"I do," Rosalie replied and looked around nervously.

"No one can see us up here," he reassured her as he set the loaf of bread and the jar of jam down on blanket he liberated from Edward's room a few moments earlier. "Your house is the tallest in the neighborhood and I don't know anyone who can fly."

Rosalie gave him a wide grin and quickly stripped down to her bloomers. Her large breasts jiggled and Jacob watched as her large strawberry nipples hardened in the light breeze.

"You look beautiful," Jacob said breathlessly. He was still so surprised by her reckless nature and her fervid pursuits.

Rosalie grabbed the waist band of her ruffled pantaloons. "I will if you will," she said, pulling hers down in one swift action that exposed the blonde curls between her legs and cast tiny lines of shadow lace on her smooth skin.

Likewise, Jacob pulled his trousers down creating a stir of activity as he settled back into position. The shadow cast on his skin looked more like a log rather than lace. Rosalie felt a flurry of nerves inside her cry out for his deep embrace but she kept a cool facade as she spread herself out luxuriantly on the blanket.

Jacob carefully knelt between her legs and kissed her belly with a tender brush of his plump lips. Rosalie let him tease her, secretly plotting revenge the next time their positions were reversed. Jacob's hair was thick and it felt like twine as it glided over her chest. As he moved his lips to the hardened tips of her shaded breasts, Rosalie grabbed his head and held his mouth to each one while he nursed and murmured his delights.

Rose brought her legs up and wrapped them as far around his waist as she could but, alas, they were unable to cross let alone meet. With her feet prostrate to the sky, she felt his lips and tongue explore her breasts and stomach. He was speeding up.

Rosalie did not want to squander his vigor so she pushed his head down until it was cradled between her legs. She grabbed his rope like hair loosely; she wanted to let him pursue his own avenues but liked the feel of his head in her hands as he worked so hard for her. She put her legs back down and even rested her head on her laced fingers as she looked up at the cloudless heavens. Her sun splashed breasts still gleamed with his wet kisses.

She languished in the never ending swirling, flicking, fluttering and penetration that accompanied Jacob's efforts. He was grunting with satiation and effort and Rosalie only had enough time to think, my my, his tongue is strong, before she was taken by a heavenly rush of breathless pleasure.

The late afternoon sky was the kind of blue that started out very pale on the horizon but graduated into a rich and royal blue straight over head. Rosalie was staring at that sapphire shade so intently that for a moment she thought she was falling into it. Jacob had reduced her to foggy sensation and giddy reaction but he called her into focus as his swirling tongue conjured a growing swell of tidal pleasure that flooded Rosalie's body.

Several times.

The blue sky was traded for the inside of her eyelids as Rosalie convulsed with gratification over and over again. When a shadow fell across her, she opened her eyes to Jacob's soft and smiling face, his brown eyes as penetrating as a fever.

He opened his mouth to say something but did not get the chance as lower down he effortlessly slid into her waiting silk pocket and they were both swept away as if a hillside breeze picked them up and flew them over Paris. Jacob held himself up with strong arms as he moved slowly and looked into her eyes with an awareness that made her wonder if she looked as in love as he did. Their eye contact was a testament to their intimate emotional connection and they allowed themselves a moment to study each other.

Rosalie, fresh from several climactic episodes was stifling cries of surprised satisfaction as Jacob's movements became more urgent. He was getting that dreamy look which Rosalie knew signified his own impending release and, true to her previous intentions, teased him by gently pushing his chest until he rolled off of her.

"Lie down," she purred. He did so without hesitation.

On his back, Jacob looked like he could double as the break handle of a steam locomotive. Rosalie grabbed the mid-point of his lever and gripped hard as she began to pump him slowly, up and down.

The sunlight made the remaining moisture on his shaft very shiny and Rosalie became fascinated with the light playing off of his considerable surface. She admired his muscular thighs as he was already tightening his muscles in reaction to her aggressive handling.

Not wanting to end their encounter just yet Rosalie placed both hands on the blanket, one on either side of his stomach, and lowered her mouth over his jutting spire. His intake of air was a hiss of a sound that made Rosalie happy.

She liked when he was vocal.

She was a gifted lover with an impressive capacity for the task and Jacob pulled himself up on his elbows to watch. Her blonde hair gave her movements a masquerade quality that he enjoyed, but soon he was flat on his back staring up at the same deep blue empty sky that she had so admired moments before. He closed them and allowed her to be his only sensory input.

Wetness and suction plucked at his hard flesh as she spread her affections all over the landscape of his excitement. Sometimes she took as much of him into her mouth as she possibly could and just held him there. Sometimes she kissed him along his length, down to his tight damp curls and back up to the smooth pink rosebud that practically pulsed before her eyes. She took him into her mouth again like a plump strawberry and covered it.

Jacob arched his back and his eyes flew open in disbelief.

Rosalie then grabbed him low with a tight fist, his hair tickling her fingers, and worked her hand up and down at twice the speed of her mouth. She squeezed and milked him into a frenzy while her lips patrolled his upper half. It was an indiscernible sensation. Rosalie was a flurry of motion and Jacob was a volcano of readied passion.

He began pushing up to her as she brought her mouth down and that cued her once again to stop.

Yes. She actually stopped again.

Jacob looked at her with desperate eyes but Rosalie was not looking at him.

She was turning backwards and straddling him.

When she positioned herself over his mast, she used his slick skin to aid her as she plunged down onto him with gleeful force. She bounded like a ship at sea and held her breasts still as she used her strong thighs to move her body up and down. Jacob watched himself disappear and reappear from deep within her and, as she sped up, and pounded him like a railroad spike he had an explosion of a colossal release that Rosalie felt as a tremendous rush of heat.

Rosalie leaned back with care and gingerly slid off of him. She then stretched out in the sun on her stomach with her lips pressed to one strong arm.

They let the sun claim their bodies and Jacob watched Rosalie in awe as she napped amidst the lazy afternoon sounds that found their way up to the secret couple. He heard Edward's piano lessons, distant bells on the river, horse hoofs on the stone streets and the rustling of leaves in trees located far and away.

A short time later, Jacob spread raspberry jam on a slice of pumpernickel bread and tore off bite sized morsels for her. She popped her mouth open every time a shadow flew across her face and he tucked one in on top of her tongue. She reminded him of a baby bird and he smiled at the real fragility of his mortal lover.

Jacob had a secret he had not told her yet and their relationship was quickly becoming the kind where secrets were not allowed.

At least he hoped it was.

He was profoundly in love with her and did yet not care he was risking extreme heartache when he eventually lost her to time.

She turned onto her side and stuck her finger in the jar of red preserves. Jacob obediently licked it off. Rosalie loved that. She loved it so much she spent another twenty minutes strategically painting her own body in smears of jam that Jacob graciously licked from her tender skin.

Very soon he found something even far sweeter than jam and Rosalie deliriously arched her back in the sun several times before he was sated. His tongue was strong and he used it like it was his duty.

By the time the two of them dressed one other and climbed down onto the balcony in Rosalie's room, Edward had finished lessons with two piano students. They walked through the bedroom and exited silently into the hall.

Her bed, as usual, was untouched.

After all she was a lady.

What would people think?


Excerpt from Chapter Ten: A Game of Chess

They toured the rest of the rooms at the Queen's hamlet in Versailles and were so filled with wonder that by the time they returned downstairs they felt windblown. Jacob went into the kitchen and brought back a tray of pumpernickel bread, white cheese and purple grapes. They ate on the rug because they were afraid to sit on any of the furniture.

"Thank you for the food Jacob, I was famished." Rosalie ate daintily, but quick.

"Me too, and I know how much you like pumpernickel." Jacob expected to see her eyebrows rise and waited for the prophecy to come true. "Your mother told me when I asked about picnic ideas for that lunch we had on your roof." He blushed at the memory.

"Pumpernickel and jam," she mused. "I remember well." She did not blush but shifted her position on the carpet, as if she was suddenly tickled.

"Do you know how pumpernickel bread got its name?" Jacob asked, willing to bore her with trivia rather than destroy a nice meal with lustful urges.

Rosalie, who had just plopped a few grapes in her mouth, shook her head.

"Napoleon was invading Germany and was served a kind of dark rye bread for dinner one evening," Jacob began. "Well, he hated it. He thought it should be bread for his horse, Nicole. Pain pour Nicole he said." Jacob smiled as he saw realization steal over Rosalie. "Over time, the words were smashed together and so today the bread is known the world over as Pumpernickel."

"How do you make the dumbest things seem so interesting?" she asked.

Jacob considered the question, unsure if she was making fun of him or truly interested in his answer. After a long pause he said,


By the time the moon was full in the windows, they had christened the bed chambers.


Rosalie and Jacob were ready to take the short walk to the Temple of Love located on an islet where one of the many small rivers around the hamlet divided. It resembled a Roman gazebo with a white marble circular base and twelve columns supporting a dome. Inside, a sculpture of cupid was carving his bow from Hercules' club.

The couple walked up the path barefoot trailed only by the sound of running water and, when they stood inside the temple and under the cupola, it cast them in inky darkness.

Jacob was smiling as he slowly stripped his Little Spoon. She was standing between two columns with her back to the sculpture. At such a late hour, the Temple was theirs alone and the night breeze caressed her naked body only a second before he could.

Jacob was on his knees in front of her as the simple cotton dress fell to the ground. It was all she was wearing and the shadow between her legs shifted as she reached behind her to grab a column. She arched her back as Jacob ran hands up and down her thighs, his lips were inches away from the her belly.

"I love you, Rosalie." Jacob looked up at her and she met his eyes. "I want more than ever to marry you."

"Well," she said with a mischievous smile that Jacob heard as well as saw, "we are at the Temple of Love. Let's get married."

Jacob stood up. "Really? When?"

"Right now," Rosalie answered.

Jacob looked confused.

"We can be married by the moon," she said earnestly, then took his hand and led him to the strip of grass between the gazebo and the river. "And live on Mars."

She unbuttoned his shirt and placed her palms on his smooth chest, then kissed his chin. She could tell that he was disappointed. Once again, he had been quite serious.

"I want to make my own way in this world, Jacob," she explained, "and I can't do that if I'm married."

She knelt down and unfastened his trousers, pulling them to the grass. Seeing that she had nothing left to remove she stood up and took both his hands in hers, allowing him to step out of his clothes. "Let me find my purpose and, in the meantime, I will consider us married in my heart from this night forward." She pressed her body to his and looked up into his smiling eyes. "We can pledge our love with the stars as our witnesses."

Jacob simply adored the idea but he could not enter into a commitment like that, not even one made by two naked people in the moonlight, without telling her about himself.

"Rosalie, you don't know everything there is to know about me…"

"Of course I don't," Rosalie interrupted and ran her hands up and down his back. "That's part of the fun."

Jacob smiled. "I understand that and, believe me, I love the idea of slowly discovering new things about each other as we go but some things…"

"Some things need to wait, Jacob." Rosalie was on the verge of pouting. He knew she was all done talking for the moment and Jacob did not want to ruin the evening. And he had to admit, he was secretly relieved to avoid the truth for now. Jacob was not sure their bond was strong enough for her to accept his condition. She did not even know that he would lay awake every night while they were in Versailles, listening to her breathe as if he were storing up the memories.

Rosalie walked him back over to the marble masterpiece and stood between two columns. She reached up and grabbed onto them as he knelt down and lifted her by the legs up to his waiting mouth. Rosalie parted her legs and he dove into her passionately, devouring everything he found. He lifted her higher and placed her legs on his shoulders leaving his hands free to find and squeeze her upturned breasts. She was holding onto the columns and had hand walked herself up to the dome as he rose to full height with her legs draped down his back.

Jacob thrust his tongue into her and brought it back up against her with a flick. He found and sucked on the tender bud that was already swelling with excitement. Rosalie bucked a few times to take advantage of his spirited exploration and cried out into the marble dome above their heads.

He then lifted her up and flipped her over as she grabbed a hold of the statue's bow to steady herself. Once again, Jacob buried his face into her pink flesh and was now able to penetrate even deeper with the new angle. Rosalie's heavy breasts swayed seductively as Jacob's strong hands gripped her rear and gently shook it with his advances.

They indulged themselves with the pleasantries of a truly wondrous position and Jacob only stopped after she had cried out four or five times. He, himself, wasn't going to be able to hold on much longer.

When he set her down, she surprised him and playfully ran away but he caught her on the other side of the temple. She loved the way the cool grass danced on her feet as she was recaptured by her lover on a gentle slope of the ground.

The moon turned the grass lavender as they sat down on the lawn near the water and regarded one another. Rosalie grinned at Jacob just before she climbed on top of him and began kissing his neck. She held herself up on thin arms, knowing how much he liked to lie beneath her swinging breasts.

Jacob looked up at Mars. It was twinkling brightly almost directly above his head. He began to explain to Rosalie why it looked blue sometimes and she kissed him to shut him up. She spread out on top of him like he was a bear skin rug and sent kisses raining down on his body. The grass was indeed a luxurious blanket and Jacob moved his arms up and down like a snow angel to feel its feathered touch.

Rosalie moved down his body so that his massive reaction to her playful ways was positioned between her breasts. She squeezed them together gleefully as she moved up and down listening to his breathing. Occasionally, his smooth peach tip would wander close to her mouth and she took each opportunity to take it between her lips. Jacob watched her work in lustful wonder. Rosalie knew she was being watched and smiled up at him with her big blue eyes shining bright enough in the moonlight to show Jacob reflections from the water.

She would have been happy to take Jacob all the way to Mars right then and there with her happy suction, but he was a generous lover and wanted to hear her call out to him with delight a few more times.

After a few more minutes of her interest, he pulled her gently to his side with the hand she had been using to trace circles on his chest. "Rosalie, you are my fantasy," he whispered. "You are a woman I both desire and admire and I want you to be given your own opportunities in this world. But this world is unfair. It has come a long way but it is still unfair. Would you at least let me help you find your purpose or your contribution to it?"

"Of course I will." Rosalie responded. "And thank you for offering."

"You are quite intelligent. I can see that already, but that doesn't mean that others will allow you to think," Jacob stated sadly. "If you aren't going to pursue art like Bella and Edward, and the medical community won't give you a chance than may I suggest that you put your talents toward the scientific?"

"What do you mean?"

"If you contribute to the knowledge of humankind, you are serving a noble purpose."

"I can't go to school," she said, beginning to dismiss the idea before she could become excited by the notion. "Not even in America can a woman receive anything beyond a servant's education."

"Someone has to pave the way, Rosalie," Jacob insisted. They both looked up at the stars and allowed the lavender grass to tickle the backs of their knees until he rolled on top of her. He held his own weight, but their bodies were one as her kissed her on the temple and ran his large hand up and through her hair.

Sometimes Jacob would just stop and breathe her in. She rather liked the animalistic nature of the gesture. He always acted like she was the most fragrant bouquet and he was the luckiest bee in the world.

He began making love to her with his face buried in her neck, kissing her trembling skin. Rosalie grabbed great handfuls of his hair and brought his lips to hers. They kissed while they moved together and took each other's breath away as they poured compliments into one another's mouths.

Jacob liked to tell her how beautiful she was and how good her body felt.

Rosalie often exclaimed at his girth and his muscled physique.

When she had practically howled at the moon, he relented and led her to the shallow manmade river that lounged on the palace grounds.

When they walked into the water, they each expected something different. Jacob was warm-blooded and already sweaty. He thought the river would be tepid, but instead found it cool and refreshing. Rosalie was thin and already feeling a slight night chill. She expected it to be freezing, but the river was as warm as a bath as she swam freely to the other side.

Jacob followed her but he walked. Just his head and shoulders were visible as he marched out. The smooth pebbles massaged hisfeet and the current pushed on their bodies like a breeze as Rosalie turned around and met him in the middle. Her mischievous hands found still hardened flesh and guided it into her.

Ordinarily, she would not have been able to jump up and stay up without his kind hands on her rear end but the current kept her legs floating underwater as he turned up river and began kissing her throat.

He did not need to grab her bottom but he did so anyway.

Rosalie responded quickly and was making waves as her hips gyrated with pleasure. Simply watching her forced Jacob to teeter over the edge into oblivion. When he climaxed, he let go of Rosalie and fell back into the river.

He floated on his back as his long hair soaked up the water. Rosalie swam up to meet him and turned over on her back as well. The river slowly swept them back toward their villa and, in the twenty minutes it took to reach their destination, they allowed the moonlight to paint their naked bodies as they talked softly.

Rosalie eventually crawled up on top of Jacob, lying with her rear pressed into his stomach as she stretched out on his large strong body. She hung her head backwards over his shoulder and let her hair mingle with his. It tickled his back as they floated head first past the slowly revolving water wheel on the back of the Queen's hamlet.

When the familiar path appeared, Jacob placed his feet down on the riverbed. He carried Rosalie up the small hill that led to the back door of the rustic but lavish home. They were both almost done dripping with water as he quietly entered the dark living area and walked upstairs. Rosalie looked like a fairy in his huge arms. Her eyes were closed and she was breathing lightly.

Jacob placed her gently on the bed not wanting to disturb her. Her eyes opened as he was walking back out of the room.

"Where are you going?" she asked in a bright clear voice. "Get back here."

The morning swept in like a ghost and wrapped the couple in a warm cocoon of wispy blue light. They were on top of the sheets to stay cool and Jacob was properly scooted in behind his Little Spoon when her eyes fluttered open. He knew several minutes before she did that she was waking up.

"Good Morning," his voice was a delicious sizzle in her ear. "Would you like to have breakfast in the palace?"

"Yes, please," she said in a rummy voice. "Isn't the temple on the way?"

"As a matter of fact it is." Jacob was happy that she was taking an interest in topography.

"Good. We left our clothes there last night."

So much for topography.


These outtakes were originally written for the 2010 FGB fundraiser for Alex's Lemonade Stand.

Now that Bella Voce and Brutte Parole are complete, I wanted to post them here for all to enjoy.

Many thanks for your support of both stories.