"Don't you ever, ever dare leave me, or I will hunt you down and won't let you sleep at night," she whispered in a husky, sultry voice. She sounded serious and intimidating, but for some reason, I found it soothing and reassuring.
She was on top of me, our breasts pressing tightly to each other. I could feel her heart beating so strong, so fast. I thought for a second that it was my own.
Her warm, shaky breath in my ear sent tingles to the very end of my spine, igniting a new heat to my center. She nibbled at my earlobe, licking the innermost part teasingly with the tip of her tongue. I moaned as her wet folds glided smoothly along the full length of my clammy thigh. I rocked her hips, following her steady rhythm.
"Oh, yes, baby," she said and I smirked. I always loved hearing the lust, and a bit of frustration, in her voice.
She pulled herself up, propping her left hand on my shoulder. Her other hand was moving her silky blonde hair to the other side of her neck, so I could fully see her beautiful, flushed face. She looked at me like a hunter eyeing its prey. She pulled my thigh higher. Panting heavily through her mouth, she lowered her head while building up her motion. She let out a throaty moan, gripping at my shoulder harshly. She was getting rougher by the minute. I felt her body shiver and I knew what was coming next.
"Fuck," she said, and I pulled her body against mine. I grabbed her smooth, well-rounded ass, kneading it the way I knew she would like it. "Oh baby, please," she said, biting at my shoulder.
I had known her for too long that I knew that I needed to take action soon. She groaned in frustration before she grabbed my right hand from her butt cheek. She looked at me, narrowing her beautiful green eyes in an irritated manner. She thought I was just teasing her to death, which I was.
She pulled my hand to her mouth and smirked at my reaction. I stiffened at how hot, and sly, she was at that moment. We had been doing this in regular intervals since last year, but I still could not get enough of her. She was like milk to my cereal or butter to my pancake. We were close. Extremely close. There was nothing in the world that could break us apart.
She stopped gliding on my thigh. She moved her body, straddling her legs over my pelvis. She fixed her gaze on me as she sucked at my two fingers, slowly, teasingly. She was licking at my fingers until her tongue reached the tip. After making them fit for penetration, she pulled my hand out of her mouth, making a sexy sound. She smiled at me, as if she was so lucky to have the most beautiful girl in the world. She was wrong, though. I was the one who got so lucky to have her. Everything in her was perfection. She was insanely beautiful with a body to die for. Her legs, her abs, her skin, her hair would make the goddesses cry. I could live just by looking at her angelic face all my life. She had all the things I want, and more. I was crazy in love with her.
She maneuvered my hand to her center and slowly slid my two fingers in between her two folds. She rolled her eyes when my palm brushed the pink, bulged knoll.
"Yeah . . . so good!" she groaned, rocking her hips against my hand. "Please, baby, go inside of me," she said as she arched her buttocks. She leaned her upper body forward so it would be easy for me to sweep my tongue and suck at her proud nipples. With a single swift movement of her wrist, she pushed my fingers inside of her. I couldn't stop the moan from leaving my throat. She was so tight and wet. She jiggled over me while I was pumping in and out of her. "Harder," she demanded and I gladly did as told. "Yes, baby, that's it. Ah! It feels so good."
She was driving me crazy with her moans and the words she breathed. Every thrust made her moan louder. I was not bothered by it since Renee, my mother, was out of town for a week with a man called Phil. So I was all alone at home with my beautiful, sweet girlfriend, Quinn.
"Isabella," my girlfriend said. The way she called my name made me stop and look at her. "No, baby, please don't stop." She reached for my arm to make me move again.
I grabbed her face with my left hand, catching her lips with my hungry ones. She bit my bottom lip softly, brushing it slowly with her tongue. As I slowly parted my lips, she darted her tongue into my mouth. I met hers halfway and explored every inch of her mouth. Though I had already memorized every part of it by heart, it was still one of my favorite places to delve into, aside from the part where my fingers were buried.
After a moment, she broke off our kiss. She tilted her head backwards with long, lecherous moans. She fastened her pace, which urged me to match up her performance. "Yeah baby . . . I'm coming. Al—most—" I hastened and deepened my thrusts. One deeper, harder thrust and she convulsed, yelling my name in the height of her rapturous orgasm. I stroked her throbbing mound in circular motion while giving gentle, slower pumps to relieve her from her ecstatic tremors.
I pulled my fingers out after she got off me and leaned her head back on my chest.
"That was nice," she said, breathless.
Nice, I thought, mentally shaking my head. That was more than nice, in my opinion. But after going out with her for two years, I knew it would kill her to admit it. She was never honest with her feelings. That was one of her imperfections that I loved to hate, but I learned to love anyway.
There was nothing that I did not love about her. But these five were my favorites:
5. She's a tough girl. She would never give in without giving you one hell of a fight.
It taught me to be conscious and wary, because mercy was never in her vocabulary.
4. She was smart, and foxy. No one could outsmart her.
This made me a staunch believer of the saying, 'Honestly is the best policy.'
3. Her beauty was a killer.
Indeed, she was a murderer. She killed me, and all of the high school boys—and some girls, and teachers, even our principal—over and over with a flash of her smile.
2. She's a true sex goddess.
Did you ever hear of WTF sex position? She invented it.
1. And the best thing I absolutely loved about her was her selfless and undying love for her girlfriend.
Yep, that's right. That's me, Bella Swan.
I was dating Quinn Fabray, the most popular girl at McKinley High. She was the captain of the Cheerios, our school's legendary cheerleading squad, and Coach Sue Sylvester's favorite. She could sing and dance like no other. Aside from her God-given beauty and talents, she was a consistent straight-A student. She aced every test easily, without batting an eye. She was everybody's darling and fantasy.
I knew people were wondering, and freaking out, when the news of us dating swept the entire town like plague. People were talking here and there, giving me weird looks. Even her closest friends gave me a disgusted look from time to time, especially when I was alone, or when Quinn was not looking. I didn't have to read their minds or hear their whispers to know what they were thinking and talking about. I knew exactly what it was. I even asked and thought of that myself.
Everyone's question was, "Why her?" Why me.
Why of all people in Ohio, Quinn Fabray had fallen in love with me, a loner and a no one. Why did she choose me to be her girlfriend? She could easily pick any famous hot guy, or girl, at school. Considering how perfect she was, it would be easy-peasy. And they would be the hottest couple in town.
I was nowhere near her line. She was this cool, fresh air in the greenest place on the planet while I was merely a bubble of poisonous gas making the world more polluted. She was the angel in heaven and, well, I was this sad, undiscovered creature feeding on some plankton on the bottom of the ocean floor. No one knew who I was. I was basically invisible before she met me. That was how different we were in physical attractiveness, in social status, in everything. Maybe she found me smart, or funny and easy to be with. Maybe that was the reason. Because every time she laid her eyes on me, she always had this glow on her face and a wide smile that never left her lips, like I was everything to her.
"Hey, baby," she called softly, breaking my thoughts. When I didn't reply, she tilted her head up, eyeing me suspiciously. "What are you thinking?" Her voice sounded concerned, but I knew damn well that she was curious, and prying.
I was thinking of how perfect you are and how amazing you are in bed, I wanted to say, but told her instead, "Nothing, babe, just a bit tired."
I wasn't fully lying. We had spent the entire day eating each other out, so of course it wore me to a frazzle. But just like the rest before this, I could never tell her that. She would be upset and get suspicious of me again. The last time I softly complained about our activity, I ended up losing my voice after spending the evening delivering my apology speech at her driveway because she was ignoring me for two days at school and wouldn't answer my calls and texts. I almost got arrested for allegedly disturbing her neighbors' peace.
She was overly protective, and possessive, of me than my father, who was the Police Chief in a small city in Washington State. She would easily get jealous. She would get mad if people she did not know would approach and talk to me. She always had this absurd feeling that I would later leave her for someone else. She had little to no reasons to worry, because like I had told her a thousand times, she would always have my heart. I would never leave her for someone else. I was hers, and would always be hers. No one, not even the universe, could ever change that fact.
"B, honestly?" she said and pulled herself up. Her face hovered a foot from mine.
I met her gaze and sighed inwardly at the annoyed expression she did not bother to hide.
This is not happening again, I thought to myself. I hurriedly pushed myself up, propping my arms on the mattress. I put a sweet smile, hoping I would appear innocent and she would forgive me for zoning out after our lovemaking.
"Well, tell me what's on your mind, baby," she said with a smile on her lips, but it sounded so dangerous in my ears. "What is it?" she urged softly, menacingly. "I swear if you're thinking of someone else other than me right after fucking me"—she ran her finger from my lips to my throat down to my chest—"I'm going to rip your heart out"—she looked at me in the eye—"and make your bitch's life a living hell."
I cringed at the thought. There was no doubt in my mind that she would do that. She looked like an angel, but she was the devil inside.
I laughed nervously. "You wouldn't do that," I said, flashing my sweetest smile.
She narrowed her eyes and thinned her lips. I knew that sexy, dubious look. I giggled and grabbed her by the waist, tugging her against me.
She yelped and laughed, tickling my sensitive spots. I screamed louder and squirmed underneath her. She had this lusciously seductive smile and eyes that sucked out all the oxygen in my lungs, leaving me breathless.
"And why is that?" she asked, coquettishly. Her voice told me that she was still in the mood for another round.
"Because you love me," I said, not intending to say it in a question.
She furrowed her brow and pouted her lips. She removed herself from my body only to lie down beside me. She sighed loudly before she grabbed my hand, intertwined our finger, and rested it on her firm, smooth stomach.
"Isabella," she said, wearily.
That name again. She's the only person, living or dead, who would utter that name to my face. Even though that name was in my birth certificate, I got irritated when people called me that. She knew that, of course, but she just loved teasing me. She knew I would never get mad at her for any reason.
"You know how much you mean to me, right?" she said, turning her head to glance at me. She smiled when her gaze landed on my lips. "You're my soul mate. You're my life. I will always and forever be yours." She lifted her gaze to my amber eyes. "No matter what, I will never leave you. I will stick to you like a barnacle sticking on rocks . . ." I giggled and she moved closer, lifting her upper body so that her head was inches over my face. "So promise me," she whispered, "you will love me and only me for the rest of eternity."
I kissed her lips and said without hesitation, "I promise."
"Hey there, beautiful," I said, my voice dry and hoarse from the lack of water. I was not eager to taste a single drop of liquid the entire day.
Not averting my gaze from the name 'Lucy Quinn Fabray' engraved in golden paint, I placed the bouquet of white roses beneath her gravestone. I smiled sadly as I squatted opposite the grave marker.
"Happy Anniversary, baby," I said. My words were full of grief, remorse, anger, longing . . .
Today was our third anniversary as a couple, and sadly, her first year of death.
I shut my eyes tightly at the memory of that drastic day. I was there yet I couldn't do anything to save her. I was paralyzed, miserably helpless, as I stared at her seconds from death. I couldn't do anything. I just stood there and watched her die.
I opened my eyes as tears began to fall. "Quinn," I said, and my whole body shook. I was crying in hopelessness, in pain. It was nothing new to me.
I was biting my lower lip hard, harder that I tasted a dewdrop of iron. But the physical pain was never enough to comfort me. It would never ease the longing, the emptiness that I felt. I was dying and rotting inside, faster than her decaying flesh.
I continued to cry until I had no more tears to shed. I promised myself this would be the last. Since her death, there wasn't a day that I was not on my knees, bawling myself to exhaustion. Renee would never leave me alone after my countless suicidal attempts. This was the first time she didn't accompany to the cemetery. She must have noticed the change in me when I talked to her last night. I told her that I wanted to live and be happy for mine and Quinn's sake.
I pressed my lips as I wanted to cry again, but I restrained myself.
"I miss you, Q. I miss us," I said and sat on the sodded ground, crossing my legs. I propped my elbows on my inner thighs as I brushed my long, brown hair through my fingers. I tilted my head, looking tearfully at the marble headstone. "Quin," I whispered sadly. Although it had been a year since she passed away, I still talked to her like she was still alive. I had this feeling that she was still here, listening and watching me somehow.
I smiled weakly, imagining Quinn's face. "You're so cute when you pout, scrunch your nose, or pucker your face whenever I do something stupid." I chuckled at a certain memory that flashed my mind. My throat tightened so I cleared my throat, my hand instinctively rubbing my vocal cords.
"I'll move back to my birth town in Forks tomorrow," I said, still gazing at her name on the headstone.
I didn't want to leave her, but it would be impossible for me to move on if the only thing that I wanted to do since her death, other than killing myself, was visiting her grave every day.
Moving to Forks was my decision. I would try to move on with my life, but that didn't mean I would forget her. Forgetting her was impossible. That would never happen.
I closed my eyes and silently prayed that I could, even for once, hear my girlfriend's voice or feel her ghost. But as expected, nothing like that happened. I was a skeptic and disbeliever of supernaturals, but there was nothing wrong to hope.
I sighed and opened my eyes. "Don't worry, baby. Charlie will take care of me. Everything will be fine." Which I highly doubted, I thought with a grimace. I smiled, picturing her smiling back at me. "Um . . . do you have anything to say before I go?" I tried my luck one more time, but the only thing that I felt and heard was the chill and the howling of autumn breeze. I chuckled at my stupidity. "Right," I said and grazed each letter of her name, which was superbly engraved on the marble stone, with my fingertips. "I will visit you soon," I promised to her.
I was so absorbed in the moment that I did not notice the time. It was getting dark and, not to mention, the frightful place was getting creepier. I looked skyward, to the heavens, and decided that I should go. I stood clumsily, almost tripping myself to the ground. Good thing I had a good grip at the headstone before I completely fell and injured myself again.
"It's like you don't want me to leave yet," I said playfully, smiling at the eerie feeling of déjà vu.
As I leaned closer to the headstone, I closed my eyes and whispered a prayer for Quinn. I slowly opened them and blew the headstone a kiss, imagining it as Quinn's smiling face.
Then I heard her voice whisper in my ear, "I love you."
to be continued.
This chapter is a rewrite. I have decided to give this another chance. It has been five or four years since I updated this story. Now, I'm rewriting the whole thing while I still have the time and inspiration to do so.
I'm sorry if I had kept you hanging for the past years. I will do my best to give you a good story to fantasize about.
Please, don't forget to review or comment. It's my driving force to write and update and finish this story once and for all. He-he.