Stephenie Meyer created them. Then I made them do stuff like this.


The hotel's room-darkening shades were altogether too effective, Bella decided. She had slept well into the morning after a restless night.

She hadn't been able to shut off her brain. It swirled with unanswered questions about the intimate stranger lying next to her, his features dimming as the candles burned themselves out one by one. She couldn't stop wondering about Edward's past. Wondering how the events of his life had led him here, to her - and to all the nameless, faceless females before her. Did he treat them as well as he had treated her? She couldn't bear to think about the others - couldn't face that particular ugly truth.

She was still curious if Edward was his real name. If so, maybe it had been passed down from his family. Maybe he was an Edward, Junior, or an Edward the Third. He did look rather regal. His angular features were softened by sleep, but the high cheekbones and square jaw still gave him an undeniably aristocratic appearance.

"My Prince Charming," she'd whispered into his softly snoring countenance sometime during the night. She was only half-kidding. Compared to what she was used to, he had certainly treated her like a princess.

She liked the feel of him lying next to her, holding her, even if it kept her from sleeping. She suspected she could get used to it easily enough. Sleep was overrated anyway. She clung to him every bit as tenaciously as he did her, and hoped the morning would take its sweet time coming.

Edward, on the other hand, slept unusually well. The few times he'd opened his eyes, he was more than happy to see Bella's pretty face close to his. He couldn't seem to let go of her. Her delicate scent and soft skin brought him a peace he rarely found in the other strangers he'd bedded, but he was too weary to wonder why. He simply allowed himself to enjoy a good night's rest in her arms.

When he awoke, he simply enjoyed her being there. Unlike most mornings, he was in no hurry to leave his date's side, or wake her and oust her from the room. He liked the warmth of her arm across his chest and her leg draped over his as she lay facing him, sound asleep. Her unconscious touch served to harden his morning wood and make him want to wake her for reasons far different than asking her to leave.

But he doubted her body could handle any more sex, so he settled for studying her instead. She looked exactly the same as she had last night, save the smudged eyeliner, which only made her appear more sultry. She didn't wear much make-up - she didn't need to. Hers was a quietly feminine beauty: heart-shaped face; full, slightly pouting lips; rounded, freckled nose; precisely plucked but subtly arched brows. He longed to see her porcelain complexion fresh-scrubbed after a shower. Better yet, maybe she could be convinced to shower with him. He imagined bathing her, running soapy hands over every inch of her alabaster skin, and his dick only got harder at the thought.

He should have been careful what he wished for while he was waiting for her to arrive at the hotel last evening. He had prayed he would find her attractive, or at least find something appealing in her personality. He had never counted on being so utterly charmed and perplexed by her, in equal measure. She intrigued him, amused him, exasperated and challenged him.

He didn't need any more challenges in his life. This wasn't the first time he'd had to deal with a better-than-expected date. No matter how attracted he was to a client, he was always able to walk away. He had to.

But he had no idea how he was going to walk away from Isabella Swan.

She stirred, then sighed, her breath fanning across his neck. She snuggled into him, and his arm instinctively tightened around her. He was surprised at how naturally intimacy came to them. He felt comfortable with her when he should have felt anything but.

He watched to see if she would wake up, but her breathing was deep and slow. He absent-mindedly stroked her hair as memories of their night together sifted through his brain. He normally sorted and filed away only the important details of a client's background - the ones that would come in handy should she ever hire him again. He even kept written notes in the back of his day planner, like a crib sheet to help him prep for his next exam.

But every detail about Bella Swan seemed weighted equally in importance, from her likes and dislikes to her past troubles with boys; from her bashful grin to the sounds she made when he kissed her, touched her, fucked her. He relived in vivid detail the moment he'd made her come, mentally cataloguing everything he had done to bring her to that point of release. And then he recalled how incredible it felt to come inside her - how her body seemed designed to give him the most intense pleasure imaginable. He wanted to give that back to her so badly he could taste it, could feel it throbbing in between his legs.

He was rock-hard now. He wanted to wake her and beg her to relieve his misery, one way or another. Or maybe he should just slip out of bed and go relieve himself in the bathroom. If he did, that would certainly be a first. He couldn't remember the last time he'd jerked off. He usually had more sex than he wanted, though most guys would probably scoff at that complaint. He couldn't help it - in his line of work, he'd come to value quality or quantity. Maybe the latter was enhancing his discernment of the former. These days, very few women turned him on the way the girl lying next to him did.

He wasn't sure anyone ever had.

He had just come to the conclusion that he was going to have to go take care of business himself when Bella stirred again, making a little moaning noise that nearly made him do the same. She squeezed him more tightly to her and the groan he'd been stifling escaped. She smiled a little and her eyelids fluttered open, her gaze unfocused in the muted morning light.

"Hey, sleepyhead," he teased, ruffling her messy hair.

"Hey," she mumbled groggily, lifting her head and squinting at him. "What time is it? Is it late?"

"Not really," he answered. "About nine a.m."

"Oh." She looked like she wasn't sure if that was late or not. To him it was, but he remembered his college days. This time of day might be tantamount to the crack of dawn for Bella.

"I'm sorry if I overslept," she said, apparently hedging her bets.

He chuckled and ruffled her hair some more. "I'm not in any hurry." He had to be out of the hotel and on the road by eleven o'clock, but he kept that bit of information to himself. He was already uneasy about how quickly the next couple of hours would pass.

She nodded and laid her head back down on the pillow, facing him. He rolled onto his side to face her as well.

"How do you feel this morning?" he asked, reaching gentle fingers to the side of her face.

"I feel great," she said, a slow smile lifting the corners of her mouth.

"So you're okay? Not too sore?"

Her smile grew at his concern. "Not really." She felt fine now, but she suspected that if he touched her down there, she would feel the sting of last night's sexual awakening.

"It'll be better next time, I promise. And then every time after that. It's only going to get better for you from here on out. You got the worst of it out of the way."

She nodded, but felt no reassurance. He was speaking as if he had done his job, and now she was free to go on and have great sex with other guys. She realized with sickening clarity that she wanted her second time - and third, and fourth, and probably fiftieth time - to be with him.

But sex with Edward Cullen was a luxury she couldn't afford.

It suddenly hit her that she'd had no plan for her love life after hiring a professional to dispense with her hymen once and for all. Her goal certainly had not been to sleep around with every guy on campus. So what had she hoped to gain by dropping the "virgin" disclaimer from her name? She supposed that she'd wanted to lose her fear of the unknown, and gain some self-confidence in preparation for meeting a guy with whom she really wanted to share herself, in every way.

But what was she supposed to do when that guy was already here, staring at her from across the scene of the crime? The escort was supposed to be her starter guy - the warm-up horse to prepare her for the actual race. She should have known by Edward's photograph that she'd never find a finer stallion than him. She'd set the bar too high. Now she was going to have to go back to her old corral and settle for far less than the beautiful thoroughbred she'd mounted last night.

She grimaced at both her realization and her bad metaphors. Edward interpreted her expression as dread, and he began to worry that last night was something Bella would rather forget than repeat.

"I'm sorry if I hurt you," he apologized in a hushed voice. He didn't know what else to say. Was the first time bad for all girls, or was he solely to blame? He'd certainly never had any complaints before, but the stakes had never been so high, either.

"You didn't hurt me," she said emphatically. "I told you, last night was great. Amazing." She could see that he was unconvinced. "In fact, I'd be willing to do it all again right now if I didn't have morning breath," she added with a laugh.

"You don't have morning breath," he contradicted her. "And that wouldn't stop me anyway, just so you know."

"Oh, my morning breath might. And everyone wakes up with bad breath. You're just not close enough to me to suffer the full effect."

"Is that so?" he said, scooting nearer. He reached under the sheet and slid his hand around her hip to the small of her back, pulling her to him. "Apparently you don't know the rule, then."

"What rule?" she asked with a grin, craning her neck back so as not to breathe on him.

He wasn't having any of that. His arm tightened around her and he bowed his head to hers.

"Two cases of morning breath cancel each other out," he informed her.

She let out a laugh, but turned her face so her exhalation wouldn't hit him in the face. "Sounds like wishful thinking to -"

She was cut off by his kiss. Stale wine breath and cottony tongues tangled together despite her feeble struggles to avoid it, but she soon discovered she didn't care. She remembered what Edward had said last night about leaving her inhibitions at the door, and she decided she wanted to leave all her self-conscious hang-ups there, too.

So she kissed him back, with relish. She pressed herself against him and soon felt the heat of his erection poking her belly. Her body reacted in exactly the same manner it had last night, despite her soreness today: her skin tingled, her stomach knotted, her sex pulsed and brimmed with cream. How did he do this to her so quickly, so easily? Her pelvis moved rhythmically with his, her thigh taking great pleasure in rubbing between his legs. He groaned and grabbed her ass, then ran his hand down her wayward thigh, encouraging it at first before lifting it to fit snugly around his hip. It was only a matter of seconds before the tip of his cock nudged her wet opening with intent. He was more than ready to take her again, condoms and sore vaginas be damned.

"You've got to stop doing this to me," he begged, half to himself.

"Doing what?" she taunted. She needed to hear him say it, as if the words would make his desire real.

"Making me want you so badly," he murmured between heavy breaths. "I can't do this to you again."

"Why not?" She pouted, tilting her hips to take him in. A mere inch or two of his girth had entered her when she gasped sharply and winced at the rawness of her skin.

"That's why not," he said, pulling away from her gently.

She stubbornly reached out for what her body couldn't handle. "It's not fair. I want you. Let's try again - you said it would be better the second time."

He groaned in frustration as her lips brushed along his jaw, her fingers stroked his back, and her goddamned perfect thigh teased his cock once more.

"Your second time will be better - in a couple of days. Not now," he tried to reason with her.

"But you won't be around in a couple of days," she whispered. Their eyes met and shared the same disappointment. Perversely, this only encouraged Bella, now assured of his feelings for her.

"You're here now," she stated. Her thigh rubbed; his cock throbbed. "You're ready now. I can be ready, too, I promise you." She brought her hand down between them and slid her fingers over his erection, stroking and then gripping more firmly. The brown eyes gazing into his were plaintive. "I don't want to disappoint you."

"Oh, baby," he sighed regretfully. He wondered why he called her that. He never called anyone 'baby.' But he'd done it last night, and now he just did it again. Bella wasn't the only one experiencing some firsts.

"Listen. Junior down there wakes up ready every morning. That doesn't mean he gets what he wants every morning. In fact, he is disappointed on a regular basis. He'll live."

Her grip became firmer, and so did he. She pumped him slowly, her fingers enjoying the texture of smooth skin over increasingly rigid flesh and blood.

"He doesn't have to be disappointed today." She released her grip and palmed him instead, fingertips reaching down to the soft skin of his scrotum, then cupping underneath his balls, massaging them. The shaky breath he exhaled belied his impending surrender. If she really wanted him, who was he to deny her?

The corners of her mouth twisted in triumph as her hand continued its seduction. "And Junior won't be offended by my morning breath, either," she posited, as if her argument needed more justification.

Edward couldn't help but chuckle. "I don't think there's much you could do to offend either of us right now."

She smiled and leaned in to kiss his neck, then his Adam's apple. She liked to tease the sensitive bump that gave him that heavenly speaking voice, so deep and soft and sensuous. Even more, she liked the gravelly sound he emitted when she gently licked its contours.

She moved her mouth down his throat to his clavicle, her tongue tracing its rigid outlines before drifting to the coarse tufts of hair scattered across his chest. Her hand finally left his cock for a moment to slide up his belly, examining the warm skin covering taut muscle beneath. God, she loved his body, long and lean with just the right amount of fleshiness to feel substantial beneath her, and above her.

She grinned again at her memories of last night. She wanted to make more now. She intended to study and memorize him, for this might be her last chance. Her smile faded at the thought and she scooted down a bit, kneeling next to him so that both hands were free to roam over his body. She pushed the covers down to expose him to her eyes and fingers and lips.

"You're so beautiful," she whispered, her self-consciousness forgotten. There was no point in keeping her thoughts or feelings to herself now that their time together was nearing its end.

Edward's chest tightened at her earnest words, her hungry gaze. His insides twisted with some kind of emotion he didn't recognize, and his cock ached with maddening want. Bella was the epitome of her name, her slender form crouched over him, curtain of ebony hair tickling his torso, petite tear-drop breasts pointing at him, begging to be tasted.

"You're the beautiful one," he told her, reaching out to stroke her hair before settling his hand on the nearest breast. He softly massaged and squeezed its nipple until it pebbled beneath his touch.

She appeared as if she were trying very hard to believe him, and he wished she didn't have to try so hard. But at least she didn't argue with him. She merely lowered her face to his chest and kissed him, then licked and teased his own nipples until they hardened along with hers. He brushed his fingers through her hair, then trailed them down her arm while she massaged and kissed him in turn. He closed his eyes for a moment, concentrating on the delectable sensations flooding him from her touch. By the time she had reached his cock again, it was straining against his torso, desperate for the feel of her tongue and her fingertips.

His groan was louder than he expected when her mouth finally made contact. His eyes flew open in time to watch her tongue glide down the underside of his cock to the base, then back up again. She was poetry in motion, her mouth taking him in, swallowing him down, then letting him out again. Her hands picked up the slack, one after the other, and she seemed to make a game of it: mouth, left hand, right hand, repeat. By the time she advanced to sucking and stroking him simultaneously, nearly every breath that escaped him was infused with groaning appreciation.

"Why do you feel so fucking good?" he mumbled uselessly. She laughed, her breath tickling his dick and answering his unanswerable question. It was just her, for whatever reason. She was irresistible to him. He reached for her now, running his hand along the perfectly plump swell of her ass and down the curve of her thigh. He pulled at her gently, turning her so that he could see the parting of her legs and the soft, pink lips between them. He had to touch her, had to know if she was anywhere near as turned on as he was. He could be gentle. He would be, for her.

Her breath caught at the feel of his fingers, stroking and then probing gently. She paused and breathed heavily on his groin, which he seemed to enjoy. She felt her back arch and her legs part, marveling at her body's instincts taking over. Her moan had teeth - a guttural reaction to his touch on her tender skin. But she didn't move away. In fact, she found her hips mimicking the pace of his fingers as he dipped them into her opening and then back out again.

She was dripping, he noted with satisfaction. Utterly dripping wet. He spread the moisture up and down, smoothing it over her clitoris, massaging until she moaned again, her breath hot and heavy on his swollen cock. As he brought his sticky fingers to his lips to taste her, he realized that he could very likely make her come again without hurting her. Where his cock and fingers might bruise, his tongue could still give pleasure.

"Let me taste you," he coaxed, gently grasping her thigh and pulling it toward him. A decadent thrill raced through her as she realized what he wanted to do. She allowed him to position her body over his, knees on the mattress next to his shoulders, thighs spread wide in preparation for his face between them. His fingers gripped her cheeks, pulling her open, and she quivered with anticipation. The minute his tongue teased her clit, an ecstatic shudder racked her body and she collapsed upon him. He buried his face between her legs, and she was gone.

Somewhere through the delirium that seized her, she realized that she had completely neglected the pleasure she'd been giving him. She bowed her head and took him in her mouth, only to feel his tongue enter her a split-second later. They moaned in unison and the vibrations only heightened their mutual desire. Hungry mouths attacked even hungrier sex. Heads bobbed and hands stroked in time together, taking cues from one another, giving ecstasy that coiled and tightened and spiraled until it could no longer be contained.

She came first, shockwave after shockwave barreling through her. She cried out, she swore, she gripped his thighs in her fingers and trembled with contractions. He clutched her quaking body to his with possessive triumph until her orgasm slowly subsided. When he was assured of her satisfaction, he allowed himself to let go. He sank his teeth into her right cheek to muffle the groans as his cock erupted into the warm, wet pocket of Bella's mouth. The intoxicating scent of her pussy assaulted him while the sensation of her sucking and swallowing pushed him over the edge. He fought the urge to sob like a baby again, it felt so fucking perfect.

They lay still for a moment, panting into each other's genitals, both dazed and dumbstruck. He had never dreamed he could find this kind of transcendence with any client, let alone a virgin. He was amazed at how much he loved being her first, in so many ways. He knew he was in danger of growing arrogant about it, now that he was reassured of how much pleasure he'd given her.

She was amazed at how good it felt to be this brazen, this wanton. To lie spread eagle atop this man, letting him devour her and make her lose control of her inhibitions. To be completely responsible for making him lose control too, and doing a spectacularly good job of it, at that.

Bella slowly raised herself up and turned around to face Edward. He sat up to meet her gaze. They studied each other, bodies glistening with sweat, faces shining with sex and saliva, eyes heavy with meaning.

They kissed, tasting each other, joining once more in total abandon.

It was the taste of freedom about to end.


Many thanks once again for all the great feedback, youse guise! I'm in awe. You all rock.

Speaking of rocking, my eternal grateful thanks to Betti Gefecht for the great fic rec at the end of her latest "Little Green and Easybella" chapter. That was above and beyond, chica! You are a rockstar, for sure. Bless you and all your readers who moseyed on over to check out my little fic. (And I did buy some extra panties for this chapter, and any future ones like it. ;) xoxoxo