Disclaimer: All copyright and trademarked items mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. The remaining content is mine.

AN: this is a series of future-takes and extras that were written from prompts, or for fundraisers, or as gifts to my dear fandom friends.

1. Rose and Emmett future-take

We're stroking and swizzling to Donna Summer at the outdoor ice rink downtown. I love ice skating; it's both exhilarating and elegant. Unfortunately, Emmett's not faring so well. I erroneously assumed that Emmett knew how to ski. He's so athletic—telling me often about his college football career as a defensive end and his senior year, with a career-high 20 sacks.

"You go on ahead, babydoll." Emmett smiles, laughing and gripping the short brick wall for support. "Don't hang back here with my lazy ass."

"I'll just take a few more laps," I tell him. "You can watch," I flirt and flip my hair over my shoulder.

"I will watch." He grins and grabs my hand, pulling it to his lips for a kiss. "And I will love it, because I love you."

I laugh and leave him there, thinking of his constant declarations of love. Emmett told me he loved me on our third date. We went out for a slice, saw District 9, he walked me home, we kissed goodnight, and he told me he loved me on my front porch. I didn't say it back.

Bella and Edward are disgustingly adorable on the other side of the rink. Edward is strong and graceful, and Bella's tiny, lithe figure tucks easily into his side. They flow across the ice, doing nothing extraordinarily complicated, but looking like a couple's routine nonetheless. They're even wearing matching colors. Gag.

The first time I saw Edward Cullen making goo-goo eyes at Bella, I was scared and I ran away with my tail between my legs. Stark contrast to my reaction to Jacob when I thought he was going to hurt Bella.

In retrospect, I realize my reaction to Edward's presence was more about my pride than anything. Edward had never given me cause to believe he would ever hurt a woman the way his fraternity brothers hurt me, but it had been ten years since I'd seen Edward, and his sudden appearance threw me for a loop.

The Morning After, as we sometimes refer to it, she uncharacteristically dropped several F-bombs regarding her evening with Edward Cullen. On the floor, against the wall, in her bed… Wow.

I love Bella like she's my own blood. I would literally kill for that girl. So, yeah, in light of my angst regarding Cullen and his possible intentions, I was a tiny bit freaked at her confession, but I decided to continue to take these moments one at a time. Seeing Edward wasn't the first, nor would it be the last, time I felt panic as a result of my rape.

Before I arrived at Edward's office to threaten his ability to reproduce as well as the likelihood of any future orgasms and wild sex with Bella Swan, I thought he felt sorry for me. I assumed that like every other halfway decent man in my life, Edward looked at me with guilt and shame.

There was guilt in Edward's eyes that day, but not like he was looking at a sideshow freak. He told me he felt guilty for not being my white knight. From what I remember of Edward and what Bella has told me, that fucker was so used to saving the damsels in his life that he felt responsible or something. I was at once annoyed as shit and kind of charmed.

Seven months later, Bella and Edward are stronger and kinkier than ever. That dirty hooker is buying an Anal Sex 101 kit for him for Valentine's Day. A kit. I cannot help but roll my eyes every time she tells me about their little escapades.

First of all, anal sex—that's all I'm going to say about that. Second, Valentine's Day is a month away. I haven't thought that far ahead, but I'm sure Emmett and I will just have a quiet dinner or something.

No matter what we do together, it's right. Being with Emmett makes me think of that old Foo Fighters song, Everlong. There's a line in the song that says, "come down and waste away with me." I never placed any significance in the comfort of that simple line until I knew Emmett the way I know him now.

"WOOH!" Peter hollers, pulling me from my reverie. "I see London! I see France! I see Emmy's underpants!"

I spin on my skates to see Emmett bent at the waist, his pants split down the back.

"Oh, my God!" I skate across the outdoor rink to where Peter, Garrett, and Eric are laughing maniacally at poor Emmett's expense.

"Don't worry, Rosie." Emmett grins and grunts as his blades slip and slide underneath him. "Goddesses need not worry about such trifling things."

"Help him up." I smack Peter in the arm as I carve to a stop.

Emmett takes everything in stride. He has such a gentle and attentive nature—he'd make the perfect boyfriend, husband… or father. He's always smooth and smiling, diffusing any kind of alarm that may have been caused. And he does his damn well best to remind me that I am revered.

"Good evening, my beautiful queen!" Emmett greeted me at his front door after my yoga class. His arms were open wide, and he looked like Superman—all broad shoulders, dark curls over his forehead, dimples, and blindingly white smile. He kissed me soundly and took my bag and the bottle of Prosecco I had picked up at Grape and Grain earlier in the day.

Emmett bought a loft just three blocks from my condo in downtown Forks. Edward was so fucking happy to be rid of him, and Bella openly expressed great joy that she and Cullen could get freaky in the dining room whenever they wanted—all they had to do was ask Heidi to take Delia to a movie or something.

Evidently, the court and Tanya had agreed that she needed just a bit more time to herself and her recovery, so Delia and Heidi moved to Forks to live with Edward full-time.

"Get comfy, babe." Emmett tossed my overnight bag into his sleeping quarters as we moved through the loft to his kitchen area in the center of the place. He set the bubbly on the kitchen island, grabbed two flutes from the set of stemware Esme Cullen bought for him as a housewarming gift, and proceeded to unwrap and uncork the bottle.

"How is my lovely lady this fine New Year's Eve?" Emmett quirked a brow and grinned lopsidedly as he filled our glasses with Italian sparkling wine.

"I feel good." I smiled and nodded. "Relaxed and ready to ring in the New Year with my man."

Emmett slid my flute in front of me and raised his glass in a toast.

"To the New Year," he said, and we touched crystal to crystal before taking our first sips.

Peter and I each grab one of Emmett's arms to help him to his feet, and Emmett's fingers brush my neck. He's laughing. He fell on his ass and split his pants in front of 900 cackling gay men. And yet he is completely unaffected.

"Oh, Emmy," Peter coos. "You are just so precious." Peter laughs and mock-pats Emmett on the back. Emmett wobbles unsteadily and takes a deep breath, puffing his chest. His cheeks are flushed and his dimples are in full force.

His smile is warm and his eyes are blue and blazing.

We would have the prettiest babies, I think. I bite my tongue before I accidentally say it out loud. He's said he loves me, but I need to be patient. Wait for just the right moment.

"Now..." Emmett set his glass to the side, then pulled a bowl of grated cheese across the counter toward a pot of steaming beer. He had set the island with coarsely chopped Granny Smith apples (my favorite), cubes of cranberry and cinnamon bread, and veggie crudités. "Sit back and watch the Cheese Master do his craft."

"Well, there's no question how well you can do cheese." I winked and popped a piece of green apple into my mouth, chewing, before sipping the tangy, fizzy wine.

"Oh, doll…" Emmett rapidly stirred the sauce with two dinner forks. "You are not going to believe how delicious this is going be." I watched him froth the sauce and it smelled fucking amazing. "And it's not just cheese. I have horsey sauce, too!"

I giggled in a way that even my best friends would never hear as Emmett settled the cheese sauce over an open flame and turned to the refrigerator to retrieve two trays covered in plastic wrap.

"I have lemon butter, curry, barbeque, and cocktail sauce." Emmett nodded to the trays in his hands, indicating an array of dipping sauces and meats. "Lobster, filet, chicken, shrimp… Edward's not the only sensitive cooking dude in the family."

Emmett winked and set the plates on the island.

Emmett referred to himself as the Cheese Master about eight more times before we finished eating the cheese-dipped bits of bread, fruit, and veggies. He then proceeded to emphasize the timing of cooking each kind of meat in the prepared pot of wine and broth.

"Most importantly, do not take the chicken out before three minutes." He eyed me seriously. "I have no interest in giving you salmonella." He grinned and those fucking dimples had a life of their own.

My favorite dipping sauce was the curry. I liked it on chicken, shrimp, and especially the lobster. I did not love the salmon, but you can't win 'em all.

Emmett and I dumped the dirty dishes in the dishwasher and then stretched out in front of the fire with a light cotton throw and tons of pillows.

"Thanks for being my boyfriend," I whispered, sounding like a middle schooler and not giving a shit at all, as I nuzzled into his forearm.

"Well, you smell good," Emmett mumbled, shrugging and curling tightly around my back. He kissed my hair and I heard him inhale, his breath warm on my neck. "I can't help myself."

"You must like hippychicks," I teased and squirmed against him. "I didn't wash my hair after yoga."

"It's got nothing to do with hippies or showers, Rosie." He dipped his head and ran his nose around the shell of my ear. "It's just you."

Emmett's hands are big, meaty. His skin is smooth, though. You might look at Emmett and think he must have calloused, rough hands, hands of a workingman.

But, no, I was amazed as always to have his soft, warm hand lightly palm my hip, fingers stroking my skin just under the hem of my t-shirt. I wanted both hands on me.

"Mmm," I moaned, rolling away from him long enough to resituate myself to face him. "Keep going."

Emmett's eyes sparkled in the firelight. His fingers skimmed the hem of my t-shirt again. I was wearing my favorite Ben Harper t-shirt that I'd bought a few years back at Jazz Forks/Snowmass's June festival and an old pair of sweat pants. So comfy.

He grinned brighter and bit his bottom lip. He kissed my mouth, and his fingers encircled my waist, twisting in the fabric of my shirt and pants. My arms wrapped around his neck, and I sighed as his lips traveled across my jaw and down my neck.

"Come on, Pete." Garrett grabs Peter by the arm and pulls him toward the refreshment stand. "Let's go find something warm and alcoholic to drink and leave the love birds alone."

"Rose, darling." Eric sidles up to Emmett and I, straightening Emmett's jacket and smoothing his hair over his ears. "Maybe you should take Superman here back to your place. He looks like he's ready to call it a night."

"Eric, baby," Emmett smirks and his eyes light with mischief. "Don't act like you're trying to get rid of me. I know you love me, man." Eric rolls his eyes, but I know he has a soft spot for Emmett. "I mean, my heart belongs to Rosie here. I love this woman. But, you…" Emmett wags a playful finger at Eric. "If I was into dudes, I would totally ask you out for pizza."

Eric laughs loudly and rolls his eyes. He kisses me goodbye and skates backward, winking, before spinning and joining the rest of the Mafia, leaving Emmett and I alone.

I loved these times with just the two of us. Whether we were exchanging childhood stories or making out like teenagers, I loved being alone with Emmett.

His knee slowly slid up between my legs, gently nudging my apex. His mouth closed over my cotton covered nipple, warm and intent on pleasing me.

"Em?" I breathed in and out. "I want to be naked with you."

"You must've read my mind." Emmett chuckled, wasting no time removing my t-shirt. "Being naked with you is one of my very favorite things in the whole world."

He pulled the drawstring on my sweatpants and slid the heavy cotton down my legs.

"As a matter of fact, you should just never wear clothes at all."

I laughed and helped him pull his t-shirt over his head, then ran my hands down his bare chest, grinning. Emmett is a fantastic specimen, as Peter would say. Well muscled, smooth. But I knew in my heart that he could look like Principal Snyder and I'd blush and shiver at the sight of him. Well, maybe not Principal Snyder. He was a creepy little troll.

I popped the button on Emmett's jeans. His skin was so warm. My fingers ventured into the denim and his zipper glided down with the motion of my hand. He was hard under his boxer-briefs. The fabric was stretched tight and I couldn't resist the urge to grab.

"Babe," he whispered and pulled one of my earlobes between his lips. I could feel his smile against my jaw as he nibbled my ear.

My other hand found its way to the back of his hair. I tugged his curls lightly and Emmett laughed, rolling to his back. I was suddenly straddling him, bare against his denim and cotton, because I never wear panties with my sweats. His hands wrapped around the tops of my thighs as he hitched my legs firmly around his hips.

"I am at your mercy, m'lady." He released my thighs and threw his arms wide. "Do with me what you will."

I released his hair and pulled my hand from inside his pants, giggling. Again.

Always with the giggling when it's just the two of us. I sat up straight and scooted back, tugging his jeans and boxer-briefs down his legs. Slipping further back, finally settling myself between his knees, I kicked his pants behind me.

I smirked and leaned forward, lowering my head to kiss his stomach and the musculature formation that looks like a "v". My eyes briefly flicked to his gaze. He settled his hands under his head and watched me with an amused expression as I slid his cock into my mouth.

"Are you ready to go?" I ask Emmett. "I'll buy you a beer at Bentley's. I'm over the skating anyway."

"You don't have to buy me a beer." Emmett straightens his posture. "I think I just need to get out of these skates. I don't want you to quit because I'm not so agile on the ice, ya know?"

"What you lack on the ice, you make up for in other areas." I lick my lips and grin, crossing my heart so he knows that I'm being honest. "I'm done. I promise."

We make our way to the edge of the ice and Emmett hurls himself toward the bench seating, plopping down with a loud sigh of relief. He bends over and unties his skates, pushing one off his foot.

"What's everybody else doing?" he asks, looking around for Bella, Edward, and the bois.

I don't really care what everybody else is doing. I don't need anybody else but him.

"Well, it looks like Bedward's headed out to do what they do best." I nod toward Bella and Edward who have also left the ice and are now turning in their skate rentals. Edward seriously has his hand on Bella's ass. And not just a little pat. He looks like he's trying to decipher a secret message from the stitching on the back pocket of her jeans.

"Those two are always making the Ninja getaway." Emmett smirks and yanks his other skate from his foot. "Crafty, horny bastards."

In the periphery, I could see Emmett's chest expand, and I heard him inhale deeply. I swirled my tongue around his cock and felt him grow even harder. I used my hands and fingers to stroke the sensitive spots where my tongue couldn't reach all at once. I took him all the way inside and down my throat. He was warm, salty, and so, so smooth.

"Come up here, babe." Emmett entwined his fingers with mine and pulled gently.

His voice was just above a whisper, strained and sweet. "Lay with me."

I stroked him once more and kept a firm grasp, sliding up his body. Emmett and I lay on our sides, face to face. He slipped my black camisole up my body and over my head, then tossed the top over his shoulder. He spun us, so I was on my back, naked underneath him.

"I love you, Rosalie," Emmett murmured. He propped himself up on his elbows and my face was in his careful hands. I brought my knees up, cradling his hips in the juncture of my thighs.

"I want to make love to you," he muttered, nuzzling my chin. I closed my eyes and reveled in the feel of him against me.

He shifted slightly, and his fingers trailed from my face down my torso and between our bodies. He slipped a finger inside me and massaged my clit with his thumb. I was already wet, ready for all of his "intents and purposes." But he loved to take his time.

Emmett balanced on one elbow and brought his wet hand to his lips. He grinned, took his fingers in his mouth, and licked them clean before gently kissing my bottom lip.

"Condom?" I asked, running my hands up and down his sides.

Emmett reached for his discarded jeans and dug into one of the pockets. He retrieved a foil packet and rose to his knees. I remained on my back, propped up on my elbows, watching as he rolled the condom down his length, smiling, muscles flexing in his forearms and shoulders.

Once he completed the task of encasing his ever-enticing appendage in latex, he settled back on his haunches between my open legs. He lightly grasped my knees, tickling me and urging me toward him. I scrambled to a kneeling position then hoisted myself up to straddle his thighs.

"Nice and slow," Emmett breathed as every inch of our bodies fully connected. I guided him inside me and settled into a slow and steady rhythm.

I worked us into a low boil. Emmett's hands were in my hair and our tongues were dancing slowly. I rode him increasingly harder.

"Fuck me," Emmett whispered through his kisses. He licked my bottom lip and groaned.

Emmett is the only man I have ever been able to make love to and fuck at the same moment. As a matter of fact, he's the only man I've ever been able to make love to at all.

I gripped his shoulders and squeezed my thighs. His hands rested firmly on my hips. My back arched and I pushed my breasts into his face. He gently pulled a nipple between his lips, and I exploded.

"Fuck," Emmett rotates his ankles one at a time, shaking his head and laughing. "Who'da thunk ice skating could be such a humbling experience."

The first time I saw Emmett after his arrival in Forks, it was similar to the night I saw Edward with Bella. I panicked, just slightly, inside my head when Bella invited me to lunch. But I bolstered my courage, braving my past. I expected to deal with Emmett's pity, that look of guilt or shame.

Emmett stood up when Bella and I approached the table. He smiled, broad and welcoming. No pretense, no sympathy, just an invitation to engage. Since that moment, I've been hooked. There stood a guy who knew me, knew my demons and my ugly past, and didn't appear to judge me in any way. He wanted to know me better.

Of course, I spoke with Laurie about my feelings for Emmett. As pleased and relieved as I was that he hadn't treated me like a broken doll or some other object to be coveted or mended, I was cautious. It was ingrained in me, a defense mechanism, but I wanted to try to be with him.

Emmett reaches under the bench and grabs his boots. His eyes light with concern as they meet mine. Judging by the look on his face, I must be acting strangely. I certainly feel a little strange.

"Babe?" Emmett drops his boots and takes my hands in his, scooting closer to me. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah." I smile reassuringly and squeeze his hands. He's so good to me. And I love him.

"Hey, guys!" Bella shouts from the rental booth. "We're headed over to my place for a little downtime."

Emmett and I briefly turn our attention to Bella and Edward. Edward is halfway onto the sidewalk and pointed in the direction of Bella's studio, dragging her with him and waving goodbye to us impatiently.

"Give us a call if you want to-" Bella scoffs and yanks her hand away from Edward. "Edward, chill the fuck out. I'm saying goodbye to your cousin." She sighs, rolls her eyes, and it looks like she's trying to be all badass and firm, like some kind of school marm, scolding him. I swear to God he stomps and whines. I don't even want to know if this tantrum is part of their evening's foreplay.

"Anyway." Bella turns back to us. "Give us a call if you wanna hook up later, cool?"

"Sure." I smile and wave. "We'll call you."

Edward practically throws Bella over his shoulder to run to her apartment and do God knows what. I turn my attention back to Emmett who's pulled his boots on and is eyeing me patiently with no expectations of anything.

"Ready, babe?" His hands rest lightly on his knees and he tilts his head. Always so patient with me. Loving me. Giving me space, but supporting me at the same time. Perfect for me in every way.

"I love you," I whisper, blinking, and then I look right into his eyes. "So much, Em."

I'd seen Emmett smile. He smiles most every second of everyday. But the smile on his face in this moment is priceless. Had I known those three little words could garner these results, I… Oh, never mind. I couldn't say it before now.

"I love you, too." He pulls me into his arms. He hugs me, releases me, and then he grasps my face in his hands and kisses my lips. "So, so much." He kisses me again, and again.

"I'm still wearing my skates," I mumble, and I realize that I'm crying. Not sobbing, but I feel hot tears on the cold skin of my cheeks. "I want to take my skates off." I rest my head on his shoulder and breathe into his neck. "And then I want you to take me back to your place and make love to me."

Emmett's hands sink one into my hair and one around my waist.

"Sounds good to me," he replies.

After we return our rental skates, Emmett and I leave the rink. We walk three blocks, hand in hand, to Emmett's loft. I tell him I love him again while he undresses me. I say it again while he's going down on me, and again when he enters me. By the time we drift off to sleep, I've told him I love him as many times as I've ever thought I wanted to tell him. It's not as hard as I thought it would be. Of course, this is Emmett. He makes everything easier, more fulfilling, and full of possibilities.

2. Edward, Bella, and the Amazing Anal Vibe

AN: I think this was for a Smut Monday prompt thing at Twilight a few years ago.

Rose made fun of me when I said I wanted to buy Edward an anal sex kit for Valentine's Day.

"Is it one of those boxes with a picture of Kobe Tai on the front?" Rose laughed one bitterly cold December afternoon while we were running on the Rio Grande Trail. "Is it purple with those big bubbly letters outlined in gold glitter? Anal Sex 101! WOOT!"


So I did more research—weeks worth of it. I googled, wikied, and then made phone calls to sex shops in Port Angeles. I learned that we would need to experiment, not that there's anything wrong with that. I learned that we would need to play with toys, which I was so looking forward to (because Edward turned me into a big, horny slut.) And I learned that we would need lube. Lots of it.

Googling anal lube is something I never thought would garner such vast results. Who knew there were so many different brands and consistencies? Thicker, water-based lube is best for anal sex, apparently. And nonporous, easy-to-clean silicone is the best material for butt plugs, vibrators, or dildos; a flared base will prevent, uh, slippage.

I made lots of notes. I decided to order basically one of everything. I mean why the hell not, right? Surely we'll get to it sooner or later. I wanted to be prepared in the event that Edward might want me to "stimulate his prostate" like all the materials I saw recommended. On the final day of my information-gathering phase, I decided to call in the big guns.

"Honey, two or three plugs and a vibe and you're good." Peter types with purpose on my little MacBook. "You're just starting out, right?" His fingers hover above my keyboard and he eyes me over the top of his reading glasses.

"Well," I squirm in my seat next to him at his kitchen table. "I mean, he's touched me there." I shrug and feel so naïve compared to when I strode confidently through the door with my meticulously researched shopping list of anal pleasures.

Peter slumps to the side and looks at me like I'm on glue. Or totally clueless. Or maybe I'm just paranoid.

"Kitten," Peter sighs and whips his glasses off, twirling them in one hand. "You two have got your whole life ahead of you." He tosses his hands in the air. "There's no need to rush or overwhelm each other. I mean, every man should get fucked in the ass at least once before he dies, but I doubt Mr. Cullen is ready for the strap on."

Peter points to my neatly printed list of items.

He turns to face my laptop once again and pushes his glasses back into place. I feel like a tool, watching Peter continue to abuse my keyboard with his big, stupid, butt sex-knowing fingers.

"Okay, here's what you're going to do." He scrolls and clicks and fills my virtual basket with goodies. "You're going to give him this book." Peter turns the screen to show me a picture of a book called The Ultimate Guide to Anal Sex for Women.

"How do you know about this book?" I sulk and motion to the screen. "You're a dude."

"Please tell me you don't honestly believe you're the first hag who's come to me for anal advice." Peter gives me that look again. "You came here for a reason, darlin'. I am here to help, so stop feeling inadequate." He returns to complete the task at hand. "Remember last year when I had that hair-brained scheme to start a singer-songwriter festival?"

I roll my eyes and make a face. Peter thought the city would just hand over fifty grand to him to bring a bunch of no-name pretty boys with acoustic guitars to Forks and call it a festival. Luckily, he listened to my reasoning before taking it before the grants committee.

"Exactly," Peter acknowledges my look of distaste and batters more of my precious keys to print a receipt. I finally get to see all that he's ordered for my boyfriend's Valentine's Day present.

The Ultimate Guide to Anal Sex for Women

Three plugs in graduated sizes, light pink

Silicone anal vibrator

ForPlay Toy Cleaner

Maximus lubricant

"Wrap the book separately," Peter instructs, looking very pleased with himself as he closes my laptop. "Then put the toys and accessories in a gift bag or a box." He slides my computer across the table toward me. "It'll be the sweetest gift ever!"

"The Ultimate Guide to Anal Sex for Women." Edward reads aloud, looks at me, and blinks.

There is a brief moment of silence wherein I consider laughing hysterically and telling him the book is a gag gift for Rosalie, which I wrongly handed to him as his Valentine's present. But then I recognize the look on his face. He's turned on.

"Anal sex?" he asks, his eyes locked with mine. I chew my upper lip and consider my answer.

"Well, I've really enjoyed it when you've touched me… down there." I swallow the excess spit that's building up in my mouth before continuing. "And I thought it would be something we could try together." I shrug.

Edward's eyes soften. He tilts his head, reaches out for my hand, and pulls me toward him, pushing the book and the wrapping paper from his lap. I settle sideways across his thighs, my feet dangling. I can feel his erection against the side of my hip.

He wraps an arm around my waist and settles his other hand in my lap, twisting our fingers together.

He takes a deep breath, preparing to have one of our notorious relationship changing conversations, like the condom conversation and our debate over my use of Xanax. I stare down into my lap at our hands and listen to his voice calm and soothe me.

"I love sex with you Bella," Edward starts. "It's real, satisfying, and intimate. I love you and you love me." He pauses and I nod in agreement.

"You and I have tried some things that we liked and some that we haven't." I nod again, thinking about the handcuffs perpetually clamped to my headboard for easy access and the time Edward sucked on my toes for almost three full minutes before I finally burst into giggles at the non-sexy silliness of it all.

"And trust me when I say, fucking your ass is definitely in the Top 5 things I wanna do to you."

Oh, Edward. You never mince words when we talk about sex.

I laugh quietly, and predictably, his words make me squirm in his lap. I feel damp between my thighs. His hand on my waist squeezes lightly and his other hand releases my fingers to draw patterns on the bare skin between the black leathers of my boots and my skirt.

I turn my eyes to the side and up to look him in the face. He's smiling at me. I love him in his plain white Henley and black jeans. He looks like James Dean with boots and a leather jacket.

"Thank you for the book." He doesn't whisper, but his voice sounds as soft as if he had. He leans forward to kiss my lips. We nibble, lick, and make small cooing sounds for a few minutes. Then I remember the rest of his gift.

"Oh!" I jerk upright and Edward looks dazed. "I have more! For your present." I wiggle out of his embrace and reach for the little gift bag containing other surprises.

I turn and settle on my shins beside him on my red couch, handing him his gift bag. Judging by his expression, Edward is slightly amused. He pulls wispy pieces of white tissue paper from the bag and I watch them float to the floor. He removes the first bundle and rips the loosely wrapped paper to reveal the little pink vibrator.

Edward laughs deeply, conspiratorially, shaking his head. His eyes flick to mine, he drops the vibe to the cushions of the couch, and grips my wrist lightly. He pulls me toward him again and sucks my bottom lip into his mouth. "Baby, this is going to be so much fun." He kisses me gently and continues to chuckle.

"There's more in the bag," I mumbled around his lips. "Open it."

Edward sighs and releases me. He's been wound up since he picked me up for dinner an hour and a half ago. When I answered the door, he looked me up and down, licked his lips, and told me he wasn't hungry for anything they serve at L'Hostaria. I wore this outfit because he loves me in leather and silk, and he bought these thigh-high boots for me for Christmas. They just aren't practical in Forks, so I haven't worn them yet.

"Have you done it before?" I ask, as I watch him pull another gift from his bag. "Anal, I mean."

"Yeah," he answers quietly, eyeing me sideways as he unwraps the lube from its tissue thin packaging. "A few times, but I'm no expert."

He smirks at the bottle of Maximus then his eyes meet mine once again as he sets the little bottle on the leather ottoman. He takes my hand in his and pulls it to his mouth to kiss my knuckles one by one. He's always a gentleman, making me melt, turning me to goo.

"Come back here, baby." Edward encourages me to straddle him with a nod, a pat to his thigh, and a light tug at my wrist.

I feel crazy right now—horny and jealous at the same time. I really wanted this experience to be unique for both of us.

"Bella, listen to me," Edward says as I settle into the comfortable, familiar position of him hard and hot against my silk-covered crotch. "Nothing else matters." His face is so perfectly shaped, his eyes are so sweet. "I get that you're curious and I'll tell you anything you want, but don't let past experiences change how good this can be for us."

How does he just fucking get me like this? How did he know?

I nod and feel his hands slide under my skirt and grip my hips. His fingers splayover my backside, curling around my cheeks through the silk; the promise of what's to come. I grind down over him a little bit because I want to hear that groan-y sound he makes when I do. I know I'm the only one who has that affect on him. At least I am right now.

"So can I ask questions?" I settle my hands on the leather covering his shoulders and I get the front of his jeans wet. His cock is nudging me right where I need it and I'm greedy. "If I ask, you'll answer?"

"Ask me anything." One of Edward's hands leaves my skirt and reaches up behind my neck to unfasten the closure of the cowl neck halter I'm wearing. I'm not wearing a bra, since the top has a hidden one, and Edward fucking digs the shit out of it when he knows I'm going braless. So when the red silk falls down my front between our bodies, he groans and grips my thigh tightly with his other hand.

"I'll tell you anything you want if you just let me touch these for a little while." The hand that started to remove my top abandoned its task before unzipping the side, leaving just my chest exposed. He cradles one breast in his hand and pinches a nipple.

"Have you ever… received?" I pant out my question as Edward dips his head and closes his mouth over my other nipple. He slides one hand back up into my hair and pulls my head back. Then he brings the skirt-bound hand around the front of my hips to invade the wet silk.

"Yes," Edward answers without hesitation. His confidence has me wishing he were inside me right the fuck now.

He continues to lick and suck my nipples as he works a finger inside me. His thumb takes up its time-honored tradition of servicing my clit as he begins to tell me about the first time he felt the pleasure of anal stimulation as a receiver.

"I was at the bar where my band played in college and met a girl named Nicole."

Edward breathes heavy as I pull my nipple from his mouth long enough to yank open the fly of his jeans. If he's going to get me off while he tells me about some girl sticking her finger in his ass, I'm going to have his cock in my hand while he does it.

"She was a roommate of one of the bartenders." I reach behind me and grab the lube from the ottoman, thinking it'll make this whole hand job situation kind of snappy.

"We flirted, did some shots, I dedicated a song to her." I dump a bunch of lube in the palm of my hand and wrap my fingers around his hard cock. Edward gets that far away look on his face like he's remembering. His jaw is slack and his eyes are hooded. But I'm the one jacking him off, not Nicole. "She was so sweet."

I use both hands, slippery and slick, one hand running up and down his cock with the time his finger has set inside me, and one hand cupping, squeezing, and rubbing his balls. His thumb rotates around and around on my clit and I rise up to my knees, thinking I'm giving him better access, but it's probably more about me not being able to sit still.

Edward pulls my head down to his face and presses harder on my clit. "God, I love you," he whispers into my mouth as he kisses me with so much force. "I can't wait to fuck you."

He stops pulling my hair and fingering me long enough to move me from his lap and remove my useless, messy underwear. Once I'm free, he invites me back to his lap.

"Come on," Edward says. I straddle him once again and he wastes no time getting inside me. I'm still torn between feeling jealous of sweet Nicole and being totally fucking turned on by his reaction to all of these new developments.

"Tell me more," I breathe.

I gasp at the sudden roughness of his hands under my skirt. He has a tight grip on my hips and he's working me up and down. His thumbs graze the front of my pelvis until he rests them on either side of my pussy. The momentum of our fucking creates the most awesome friction between his thumbs and my clit.

"I went home with them," he continues to paint a picture for me, while kissing my lips and ears and throat. His voice is strained like he's ready to pop. I hope he doesn't come right now. I want this to last and I want to hear the rest of this story.

"Nicole gave me a hand job and Will—fuck… Are you getting off on this?" Edward returns a hand to the back of my head and leans back to gaze into my eyes. "I don't think you've ever been this wet this fast."

I am getting off on it, I've decided. Fuck being jealous. What he's telling me happened years ago. It's hot as hell, but he's not reminiscing. He's sharing it with me.

"Yeah, it's…" I shake my head and close my eyes. I'm right fucking there. "Edward, I want you on top of me."

He doesn't make me beg. I'm on my back on the floor before I can say, "fuck me hard."

Edward is kneeling between my open thighs, pants bunched at his knees. He's still wearing his clothes. I don't know why, but I love fucking with our clothes on.

He has one of my leather clad knees in each of his hands. He pushes my legs up to my chest and opens me further. My arms lie limply on the rug and I can feel my hair a mess around my head.

"Just think about what I'm gonna do to you." His hands grip tighter around my knees, bruising and loving. "You can have me anyway you want. Anywhere." He groans and I whimper at the thought. "I'll do anything you want to make you come, make you feel good."

He strokes in and out of me and my hands tangle in my hair.

The second Edward tells me to think about what he's going to do to me, images of him licking me with his tongue and sliding that vibe into my ass, bending me over the bench in his steam shower to fuck me, cuffing my hands to my headboard as I sit down and down and down on his cock over and over—I explode.

Edward doesn't come right away. He releases my knees, and I hook my booted feet around his long, lean body pulling him into me. I hear leather squeak and groan against leather. He rests his hands on the floor on either side of my head as he fucks me, and we kiss until he comes inside me.

"Fuck we're good at this." Edward touches our sweaty foreheads together, pulls out of me, and settles on his side next to me. It's become kind of a joke between us.

Even when we try to have quick, functional sex, we always end up making it some kind of epic experience. I won't delude myself to think it will always be this way, but I sure will enjoy it while it lasts.

We got our dessert to go and we have a delish bottle of Zin that Esme sent us to share for Valentine's Day. I swear to God, I love that woman. She and my mother are nothing alike, but together they make the perfect mom.

"I want chocolate," I say as I roll up to the sitting position and pray that my silk halter hasn't been too badly mangled by Edward's and my hormones. I unzip it at the side to remove it completely, toss it toward my closet area to later be cleaned, and crawl across the floor to my chest of drawers.

"Mmm," Edward hums and rolls to his stomach, grabbing for my ankle. "Come back here, I want to use that vibrator on you."

I kick playfully at his grasp and try to shimmy my skirt down, stifling the sexathon long enough get out of these boots, put on something comfy, and eat my dark chocolate cake with ganache.

"Those boots are the best fucking investment I have ever made," Edward declares as I stand and look over my shoulder to see him resting on his stomach with his head propped in his hands. "Take your skirt off, but leave the boots on for dessert."

"You have a shoe fetish," I accuse, rifling through my chest of drawers for a pair of boxer shorts and a tank top. "My red pumps, my silver docs, these boots." I find what I'm looking for and turn to face him, unzipping and slipping out of my skirt.

"Seriously. It's all about the footwear for you, isn't it?"

He groans and rolls to his back. His pants are still trapping his knees and I can see now that he's not entirely erect, but he's less than flaccid. He's thirty-five fucking years old. He's not supposed to have this kind of refractory period.

He lifts his hips and pulls his jeans up, barely fastening them. He's acting all grouchy, like his girlfriend didn't just tell him she'd let him fuck her in the ass. I pull my black cotton boxers over the boots and my tank top over my head, seeing him stand in my peripheral vision. I cross the room to sit on the couch and remove the boots, but Edward stops me mid-stride.

"You really have no idea the affect you have on me, do you?"

His intense and very serious expression gives me pause.

"I love you, too." I place my hand on his and squeeze. I do love him. More than I can even explain. And a lot of times it makes me feel irrational and crazy because our extreme reactions to each other are completely illogical.

"No." He shakes his head and shoves the fingers of his free hand into his hair. "I mean I love you, but I'm just so crazy about you." He laughs once, nervous and unsure, and then looks at me in wonder.

"Yeah," I whisper. The spark hasn't faded between us in these seven and a half months. It's only become stronger. "You kinda take my breath away, too."

Cheese! Oh, man. I hope I'm not being Punk'd.

Edward's face splits into the most beautiful smiling thing, and he pulls me into his warm embrace. He rocks me side to side and hums.

"I can leave them on," I mutter into his chest and run my hands over the cotton of his shirt under his leather jacket.

"Nah," he laughs. "We'll do it again some other time." He takes my face in his hands and kisses my forehead. "But I wasn't kidding about the vibrator." He grins down at me before turning toward the kitchen where our dessert sits waiting to be consumed.

"I have no problem with that," I admit as I sit on the couch to pull my boots off and toss them next to my closet. I reach for my flip-flops and watch Edward remove his jacket, hanging it over the back of one of the pub chairs. "Open that wine, will you?"

Edward nods and mumbles, "yes'm".

I shuffle past him into the bathroom to pee and tie my hair up. When I come out, Edward has set the table with a few tea lights, two glasses of Zin, and Tiziano's Chocolate Ganache cake.

"He was ogling you, Bella. He always does," Edward argued five minutes into our dessert and wine. "And stop calling him that, it wigs me out."

Tiziano is the pastry chef at L'Hostaria. He's had a thing for me since I moved here, he's 100% pure Italian – libido and all – he makes the most amazing chocolate desserts, and his nickname is Tiz, which is pronounced "tits."

"Edward," I roll my eyes at his jealous words and the utter deliciousness that is Tiziano's Valentine's Day special. "He's like, three feet tall. Plus, he isn't you, so my love for his ability to make desserts to rival all desserts is a moot point."

Edward looks thoughtful as he savors the irrefutably perfect ganache. He sips his wine then takes a deep breath.

"Fine," he concedes and pushes his empty plate to the middle of the table. "Come on. I wanna play with my new toys." He smirks as he stands and extends a hand to me, inviting me to join him.

I scrape the last little bit of chocolate heaven from my plate and lick my fork clean, moaning and batting my eyelashes at Edward.

"Bella," Edward warns and straightens his posture. His eyes are hot and he places both hands on the back of his abandoned pub chair.

"Okay." I roll my eyes again and hop down from my chair. "I'm kidding. You know that."

I pass him and make my way to my futon to unfold it. Edward pushes the ottoman out of the way and removes the bedding from inside. Together, we fluff the comforter and the pillows. When we make eye contact, Edward is smiling like the devil he is.

"You might as well take your clothes off, Bella." He pulls his Henley over his head and then grins at me. "They're just gonna get in the way." He sits to untie his boots and kick them over to my chest of drawers. He pulls his socks off and stands, unfastening his pants as he walks to the couch to retrieve the vibrator and pick the lube up off the floor.

"Did you put batteries in this and everything?" He turns it on and the room fills with an invigorating buzz. Angel pops his head up from his little kitty puff bed in the window, squeaks, blinks, and then buries his head back in the puff to ignore us.

"Inspected, cleaned, and loaded," I confirm.

As I watched him prepare for Step One of our Anal Excursion, I got rid of my shorts and tank and climbed under the covers. Now he's walking toward the bed, shirtless and barefoot with his pants open, staring in fascination at the buzzing contraption in one hand, and twirling the bottle of Maximus with the long fingers of his other hand.

"You might as well take your pants off Edward," I paraphrase his earlier words.

"Smart mouth," Edward mutters. He doesn't even look at me as he tosses the lube to the mattress and finishes pushing his jeans down. He turns the toy off, but doesn't let it go as he flops down beside me on the bed.

"Let's see," Edward wonders aloud, pulling the covers away from my body down to my hips. He's lying on his stomach next to me on top of the comforter. He taps my bottom lip with the vibe and then traces my mouth with its tip. "Open up."

I open my mouth and he slips the silicone inside. It tastes like, well, silicone – fake and sterile – but it's worth it to watch Edward's face change as I suck the phallic looking toy into my mouth.

"Get it nice and wet, Bella," he instructs. He kisses my shoulder, never taking his eyes off the thing invading my mouth. I close my eyes and moan, just for him. "Good girl."

I don't like the taste, but I love the connection this little piece of silicone gives us.

Edward is incredibly turned on, and as I start to think about what we're going to do and what we talked about earlier, I'm getting pretty fucking ramped up.

Edward removes the wet vibrator from my mouth and lightly draws it over my chin, my collarbones, and a nipple. He flips the switch and my fingers clench the sheets.

"So I was saying," Edward speaks casually, teasing me. "Nicole, the girl I had a threesome with in college? Was giving me a hand job and Will- are you comfortable, Bella?"

I'm squirming in the sheets, clutching the cotton in my fists, and rubbing my thighs together. Edward is making tiny circles around my areola with the fucking vibrator and he won't fucking finish the goddamned story.

"Yes!" I snap. "I'm fine, just fucking… tell me already."

Edward chuckles and kisses my other nipple, trailing the vibe down my torso.

"Well, Will just thought I needed a little help." He pulls my nipple into his mouth and slides the vibrating silicone cock between my pussy lips. "So he started massaging me. I felt lube on his fingers. Nicole was using it, too." Edward slips the toy inside me and I pull my right knee up and open wide.

"Fuck," I breathe. I reach my hand up and pull Edward's hair, kiss him on the lips, and I think I might be purring.

"He slipped his finger inside me," Edward whispers, fucking me with the vibrator and thumbing my clit. "And I just fucking came in Nicole's hands." He breathes heavy and hard.

"Do it," I beg and whimper. "Do it, please, Edward."

Edward pulls the toy from my body, switches it off, and sets it next to my head. He opens the little magic bottle of lube and coats his fingers, then walks on his knees to settle between my open legs.

"Spread your legs a little wider, baby." Edward reaches down with his left hand and slides his thumb in where the vibrator just left as he uses two fingers to spread the lube between my cheeks. Then, very slowly, he slips one finger into my back opening.

I don't really know what to do with my legs or my hands or anything at all. I kind of just loll around for a few seconds until Edward tells me to relax and think about the story he just told me.

"I promise I'll be good, Bella." His finger strokes inside me, and I feel tight and try to relax a little more. "I promise you'll like it so much."

I stop flopping around like a fish and feel another finger enter me and I moan.

He's used his fingers to massage me before, he's even slid the tip of his index finger inside, but two fingers is just…

"Holy fuck," I groan and punch the mattress.

Edward removes his thumb from inside me and works my clit. His fingers slowly pump in and out of my body and I'm going to come if he says one more word about Will.

"Did you kiss him?" I ask, my voice tight and high. My back arches off the bed when I feel his knuckles moving inside me. I'm fucking delirious.

"Yeah," Edward's voice hangs in the air, and I picture him kissing a boy.

I shout and come, wishing I was coming on his cock, wishing he had two, thanking Peter and the sex shop and women's liberation or whoever made it quasi-acceptable for me to purchase the vibrator that is soon to be in my ass, and hoping that Edward fucks me again very soon.

"I want you so much." He pulls his fingers out and reaches for the hand wipes that I leave on my desk next to the bed. "All the time, baby. Just you." He's telling me a story about fucking a couple of strangers while reassuring me that he loves only me.

Edward stays on his knees, discards the used wipe, and lifts my right leg to rest my ankle on his shoulder. He pivots my body and straddles my left leg on the mattress, reminding me of the first night we were together. That night he had us in this position and ran his fingers down the crack of my ass. I thought then I'd do anything he wanted. I wasn't wrong.

He guides himself inside the more traditional entrance to my body and reaches for the lube. I pick up the vibe and hand it to him and he smiles. He covers the vibe with Maximus and with his left hand he lowers it to the general vicinity of where we are currently joined.

"Ready, baby?" His eyes meet mine, and I nod and breathe and flutter.

I am about to be double penetrated.

Edward slips the toy into my ass, slow and easy. It's cold and wet and a little clinical feeling. But then he starts to move his cock inside me, and he's not cold at all. He leans forward and his upper body is hovering above me, the hand that isn't moving the vibrator in and out of me is braced next to my ribcage.

Just as the toy adapts to my body heat, Edward flips the switch.

"Jesus," we breathe in unison. It's overwhelming and the word mind-blowing runs across a marquee in my brain.

He alternates his cock and the vibe. I still don't know what to do with my hands, so I just reach for the headboard and hold on. He kisses me deeply then rests his forehead on mine.

This experience is wiping him out, physically and emotionally. He's so into it, enjoying it, but doing his level best to make sure I love it, too. I do love it. I love the way this feels and I love that he's telling me about one of his experiences, making our experience that much more fucking awesome.

"Did you fuck him?" I ask, out of breath and out of focus.

"No," Edward admits, his voice straining and tense. He's being so gentle, and I can tell he just wants to plow into me. But this all feels unreal and totally real at the same time. I can't believe it's so good and it just makes me crazier for him.

"I can feel every fucking inch of you," I groan and kiss him again.

"Fuck, I know. And the fucking vibrator..." he whispers and kisses me back. "I'm gonna come, Bella. Just lose control."

He means that he's losing control and he's inviting me to do the same. I nuzzle his face and grip the headboard tighter.

"Harder?" I whisper back. "Just a little?"

Edward braces himself and fucks me harder, like I asked, keeping pace with the vibe. He's going to come any second. I can feel him pulse and twitch inside me and it sets me off.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he chants along with his rhythm, and I shout his name.

I don't know how long I was out. But when I come back to reality, Edward is lying semi-diagonally across my body. He's removed the toy and turned it off. He's still inside me, though, and his hand is over my heart.

"Wow," I say. I'm kind of stunned. I've never blacked out from sex. That right there was some intense fucking. But if it can be topped, I'm sure we'll do it.

Edward slowly pulls out of me and rolls to his back. He grabs my hand and kisses it about a million times.

"So," I sigh. "Ready to switch the vibe and your cock?"

Edward stops kissing, but leaves his lips pressed against my skin. Then he starts to laugh. He tugs my arm and I roll to my side then over on top of him, our legs entwined. Now I'm laughing, too.

"Sure, baby." He chuckles and shakes his head, nudging my jaw with his nose. "Just give a minute or two to recover. I'll be ready and rarin' to go."

I'm kidding, of course. I'm fucking exhausted. But we'll try the switch. Soon. Tomorrow. Or maybe the next day.

3. Edward's College Threesome with a Dude

AN: This was a b-day present for Moojuicey in the spring of 2010. It is set somewhere in the early-mid 1990s, when Edward was an undergrad. Will may seem familiar to some of you Whedon fans.

"Oatmeal Cookie shooter," Will announced as he pushed two shot glasses toward Nicole and I from his station behind the bar. "Goldschläger and Irish Cream." Will lifted his own shot in a toast, arching one scarred brow, and we clinked glasses. "It's Nicole's favorite."

"It's beautiful." Nicole sighed and touched the glass to her heart-shaped lips. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back, sipping more than shooting the thick, rich drink. I watched her throat undulate as she swallowed, a look of pleasure spreading across her lightly freckled face.

Nicole was nothing at all like Tanya. She was quick-witted, not afraid to speak her mind, and absolutely adorable. She was barely five feet tall with soft, reddish-brown hair, and the bluest eyes I'd ever seen.

"Cullen," Will called to me, and I switched my eyes to his gaze. "You gonna take that shot, or drink Nicole dry?" Will's ice blue eyes roamed my face knowingly, a wry grin on his face.

I laughed then shot my Oatmeal Cookie. I heard Nicole giggle and saw her delicately swipe the corner of her mouth with her middle finger in my peripheral vision.

"Good, right?" she asked. Her voice played in my ears, but not annoyingly so, as I set my shot glass on the bar and nodded.

Will's fingers brushed mine when he took the empty glasses to wash. It wasn't the first indication to me that he might be interested in me as more than a bar patron, and it wasn't the first time I quietly welcomed the advance.

He rang the bell to announce last call and I heard the patrons groan and whine against their impending expulsion. I continued to stare down at the wood of the bar, digging my thumbnail into the groove of a large "B" that was inexplicably carved into the surface.

"Thanks for the song, by the way." Nicole's smile was evident in her voice. She was friendly, but not too flirty; secure, without being smug; and really fucking sexy.

"I like The Ramones."

"We haven't played that one in a while." I shrugged, grinning at her sideways. She knew my act of nonchalance was a hoax; I was sure that Will had told her that I asked about her weeks ago.

"I see." She nodded and smirked, reaching for her water glass to take a sip.

I had seen Nicole several times, sitting at the end of the bar, but was always too late or already too engaged with another girl to have a real conversation with her. When I asked about her, Will told me her name, that they were roommates, and that she liked The Ramones.

I saw her at the bar, I told the guys in my band that we were going to do "I Wanna Be Your Boyfriend", and they didn't argue. Jasper liked the brief break on the skins - slower, softer song - and Nate was always too stoned to care what we did.

While the bar clientele filtered out, Will closed down, and Nicole and I played Gin Rummy. Jasper and Nate left, giving me a thumbs-up and wagging their eyebrows at Nicole. I wanted to go home with her, yet, I knew this night would be unlike any other night I had gone home with any other girl. For one thing, there was Will.

Will had twinkle lights strung around his small, untidy bedroom. As he was lighting incense, the sweet scent filling the air, I popped the top of a Summit and hung in the doorway.

Nicole mumbled something to Will and he laughed then, crossed the room to the single-sized futon mattress on the floor. He fluffed the bedding and I turned my eyes back to Nicole, watching her sway and sip her red wine in the middle of the room.

"I'm gonna hop in the shower, Will." Her voice was clear, but quiet. She trailed her fingers across his shoulder and chest as she made her way to the door. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

I flattened my back to the doorjamb as Nicole passed me. She barely brushed against me, seeming suddenly shy, not making eye contact.

"She's nervous," Will said. He shrugged then cast a cautious glance at me over his shoulder. "She's fantasized about it, being two guys at once." He flipped through stacks of totally unorganized CDs, flicking his gaze to mine between the random slaps of the cases. "But she's never done it before."

And there it was. Out in the open. This is what we were doing. I knew, he said it, and Nicole was thinking about it.

"What do you want to listen to, then?" He turned to look to me askance.

I was still getting used to the reality that I was about to have my first threesome. I had no idea what a person listened to for their first threesome. With another guy.

Will held up a Massive Attack CD and waved it in his hand, staring me in the face with an impatient look of "make up your mind already."

"Massive Attack is cool." I shrugged and tightly gripped my beer bottle. I took a deep breath and one big step inside the room.

Several months ago, I had stayed after Will closed the bar, doing shots with him and talking cars. At one point, I spilled a bit of Ouzo and licked my fingers. Will asked me if I needed "help with that" with an unmistakable look in his eyes. I doubted what he wanted was more Ouzo, considering we were both fucking hammered off the shit. That night, I left the bar thinking about what it'd be like to let him "help me with that" or anything else for that matter.

"So..." I took another deep breath and a few more steps into the room. "How does this work?"

There were lots of rumors about Will: he was gay, he was bi, he was a porn star. I knew a girl who dated him for almost a year. She once told me he had an arsenal of sex toys to rival Jenna Jameson. To say I was intrigued with Will was an understatement.

Will chuckled and sipped his own beer before lowering it again, letting the bottle dangle between his black-tipped fingers beside his thigh. Yeah, Will painted his fingernails black.

"Well, you're obviously into little Miss Nicole." Will raised his bottle, pursed his lips, and tipped it toward the door where Nicole had exited just moments before. "And while I am most definitely into the both of you, you're not required to reciprocate any of my advances." He lowered his head, but kept his eyes on me, serious. "You and I don't have to even speak to each other, let alone touch-"

"What if I want to?" I asked and shifted my weight, but never broke eye contact.

"Well, then…" Will smirked again. "That's a different story now, isn't it?" He sipped his pale ale and his eyes twinkled. "We can play it by ear, yeah?"

"Yeah," I mumbled. "Anything I need to know about Nicole before we get started?"

Just then Nicole entered the room. Her hair was damp and she smelled like vanilla and lavender. She was wearing a partially buttoned, light blue, men's oxford shirt, which I assumed was Will's, and I could see a pair of cotton shorts peeking out from under the shirt. Will was average height and average build, but Nicole was swimming in the shirt.

"She likes to be undressed," Will answered, grinning at Nicole and crossing the room to meet her. She smiled up at him as he buried a hand under her hair at the back of her head and pulled her in for a kiss. He then walked around to stand behind her. His hand never left, but trailed across her collarbones to settle on her opposite shoulder as her head rested against his chest. Her eyes were closed as she stood in front of him.

Will turned slightly to set his beer bottle on the nearby dresser then rested his hand on her hip. His other hand slowly traced from her shoulder down the placard of the randomly buttoned shirt Nicole was wearing.

I took another gulp of my beer, set it aside, and walked closer to them. Nicole was so pretty and so tiny, I couldn't help but think of her as delicate and fragile. But she was a strong girl. She was smart and funny, and she knew what she wanted.

Nicole opened her eyes, lazily taking in my approach. She reached a hand up to touch my face.

"I like you better when you're clean shaven." She smiled and cupped my jaw, urging me toward her. "You have such a pretty face."

I stifled an eye roll, not wanting to do anything to ruin a moment as heady as this, but I kind of hated being the "pretty boy." Pops told me that one day I'd appreciate it, but being told that I was pretty always made me feel a little less than masculine.

"You like being undressed, huh?" With one finger, I toyed with the hem of her shorts touching her creamy, smooth skin. I watched my finger stroke her flesh and goosebumps began to appear. I raised my eyes to make eye contact with her and she grinned.

"Yeah," she whispered, reaching up and running her hand around the back of my head as I stood a mere two inches in front of her.

"Spread your legs," I ordered. Will stopped kissing her neck and looked up at me with surprise and fire dancing across his face. Nicole arched a brow and slowly widened her stance. I ran my fingers up under the hem of her shorts and grazed the wetness at the juncture of her thighs.

"Good girl," I said, before cupping one hand against her face and kissing her full on the mouth. She still tasted sweet from the shots we did earlier.

"Sweet," I mumbled into her mouth as my finger stroked her inside her shorts.

Her hands reached for my hair again and we were suddenly kissing like our lives depended on it, gripping each other's hair and skin.

"She's sweet everywhere," Will said, chuckling, stepping back, and pulling his shirt over his head. "Mind if I kick back and watch for a bit?" He turned and wandered to his chair in the corner of the room, retrieving an unopened beer from the 6-pack we brought into the room. He popped the top off the bottle and perched on the edge of the recliner. "Course you don't." I heard him laugh lightly as he took a swig of beer.

I kept one hand in her hair, pulling her deeper into the kiss. My other hand left her shorts, and I smoothed the back of my hand up over the front of her belly, her chest, and her shoulders. I paused to feel her nipples tighten through the men's shirt. I remembered her joking earlier in the night about being small chested. I didn't see anything wrong with her. It was turning me the fuck on, feeling her breathe and shudder. Knowing my hands were making her tighten and gasp.

"Pretty," I whispered and pulled the front of the shirt open to reveal her hard, little nipples. "So pretty."

I smiled so big I think my jaw cracked. I pinched her lightly and she hissed through her teeth. I didn't really want to stop kissing her mouth, but I wanted to taste her everywhere else, too. I wanted her nipples between my lips and on my tongue.

"Yeah," Will muttered from somewhere on my left. "She is, isn't she?" He took another gulp of his beer and I heard it slosh in the bottle as I pulled Nicole's nipple into my mouth and ran my hand down to her waist.

My fingers found their way into the opening at the bottom of the shirt where she hadn't finished buttoning it. I hooked them into the front of her shorts, just below her navel, and felt that it was pierced. I loved that. I ran my thumb up and around the little, steel hoop through her bellybutton and she giggled, her hands traveling down my torso to the hem of my shirt.

"Not that I want you to stop playing with my piercing, but I'd kinda like to see you without a shirt on." Nicole bit her lip when I looked into her face for further clarification. "So unless you want this totally awesome London Calling t-shirt torn up the front, you're gonna need to back up a little so I can have better access."

I conceded, biting my own lip and lifting my arms over my head. She quickly yanked my t-shirt and the white, long-sleeved thermal that was underneath away and tossed them somewhere near Will.

I didn't hesitate to get my hands back on her body. I reached for her hip and the buttons on the shirt. I flipped several of the top buttons open and took one of her tits in my hand and the nipple into my mouth.

"Fuck," Nicole moaned. My other hand slipped around her waist and down to cup her ass, bringing her lower half close to me again. She was arched slightly backward over my forearm, so I had unrestricted contact with her taut nipples.

Will was watching us intently. I heard his zipper and saw him reposition himself in the chair. I released Nicole, just slightly, to steady us both and move to the futon that sat on Will's floor. I pulled her with me and settled on the edge of the mattress, my knees bent on either side of her standing form.

"All this talk of undressing you and you're still wearing your clothes." I reached up to slip her tiny cotton shorts down her legs. Looking back up at her, I asked, "Will you talk to me, Nicole? Tell me how this feels."

"It feels good," she breathed, and kicked the shorts away from our bodies. I wasn't sure if she wanted to talk a lot, but I liked her voice and I hoped she would tell me what she wanted and didn't want.

"Good." I kissed the exposed skin of her hip between my thumb and index finger. "Keep talking."

Each of my hands slid to wrap around the backs of each of her thighs, and I urged her toward me. Her shirt was bunched at my wrist and she balanced her fingers on my shoulders. I explored the backs of her thighs and the opening between her legs. I licked her tentatively, keeping her steady with my other hand and feeling her wetness gather around my finger as it slipped in and out of her from behind.

"God." Her voice shuddered, breathy and light. I was so fucking proud to be able to do this to her, make her react this way.

I'd been eating pussy since I was fifteen. I loved it, loved having that affect on a girl's body, give her pleasure. I loved the taste and I loved the sensation. There was nothing in the world like making a girl come with my mouth and my hands. I loved getting off just as much as the next guy, but I could eat pussy for hours and never tire of it.

My thumb settled firmly next to her clit as I licked along the other side. Nicole's hands became more demanding, grasping my shoulders and digging into my hair.

"More," she whispered. "Inside."

She was telling me, not asking or begging. Her voice was quiet but strong, not whiney or whimpering. I knew I shouldn't think it at that moment, but Tanya always used that pseudo-porn star voice when we fucked, and it always made me think she just wasn't in the moment.

I pulled my finger away from where it was fucking Nicole from behind and transferred her balance to that hand, sliding two other fingers inside her from the front. I never stopped licking her and I used my thumb to work her clit with my tongue. So fucking tasty.

Nicole came against my face quietly and more quickly than I had anticipated. She sighed and slumped forward, resting her slight weight against my upper body, over my shoulder. I pulled my fingers from inside her and used both hands to bring her down next to me on the mattress.

She smiled at me and we kissed. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Will jacking off in the chair across the room. I finished taking her shirt off and pulled one of her nipples into my mouth.

We kissed and touched, and she told me about the cat that lived with her parents. She wished she could have him with her, but Will was allergic and their landlord wouldn't permit it. I didn't know why she was telling me about her cat, but it was sort of endearing. She was also fiddling with my button fly and staring at my chest.

"Was that good, Ducks?" I heard Will ask Nicole, and I felt the mattress sag behind me. I turned to look over my shoulder and saw that he was naked and hard. I realized he must not have come yet. He rested a hand on my hip and stretched out behind me on the small futon mattress. Nicole was also nude, but I was still wearing my jeans and boots.

"I should…" I sat up to undo my pants, maneuvering myself from between their bodies. There was a shuffling sound at my side and I saw Will move forward to kiss Nicole sweetly. I crawled toward the head of the bed, opposite Nicole and Will at the foot of the bed, and swung my legs to the side to unlace my boots. Then I stood to kick them off and completely rid myself of my pants.

By the time I turned back around, Will was lying on top of Nicole, between her thighs. I crossed the room wearing nothing (because I had stopped wearing underwear in college, much to my mother's dismay), and reached for my beer. I really wanted a cigarette. I didn't know what was going to happen next. I thought about jacking off and watching, like Will had done, but I couldn't not touch her.

Will knelt upright between Nicole's thighs and pulled her legs up to drape over his forearms. At some point, he had put a condom on and before I knew it, he slipped inside. He pushed into her hard and slow, his feet anchored against the pillows and blankets that were piled against the wall. With each thrust, Nicole inched gently toward the end of the mattress, until her head hung off the end.

I walked back to the bed and knelt on the floor facing Will in front of Nicole's head. I sat on my haunches and bent to kiss her upside down mouth and jaw. I held her face in my hands and caressed her as we kissed. Then her hands grasped mine and she whispered, "I want you in my mouth."

I wanted to be sure she wanted it, but I also wanted to see her face – the confirmation that she wanted me - so I looked into her eyes. I wanted to dive in and swim in the ocean blue. I kissed her lips as Will kissed her ankle then her knee before he rested her ankles on his shoulders.

I knelt upright again, resting my hands on either side of her face. I looked at Will and felt Nicole's small, warm hands grab my cock. Then I felt her tongue lick me and her lips encircle me. Will and I were still looking at each other, but I blinked lazily as Nicole took me all the way inside her mouth.

"Fuck, yeah," Will groaned, fucking her hard and steady. The pace he set established the rhythm she used as she sucked and licked my cock. I broke eye contact with Will and gazed down at Nicole's face. I watched as my cock slipped in and out of her mouth.


I groaned and reached for her hands, pulling them away from my body. Leaning forward, I spread my legs a little bit to gain a more solid stance, more leverage. I placed our joined hands against the sheets on either side of her ribcage. I was fucking her mouth, and we were holding hands.

Will moaned and swiveled his hips. He gripped her calves, removing her ankles from his shoulders, and re-placing her feet on the mattress. He placed his hands close to Nicole and my joined hands, and leaned forward. His face was close enough to mine that I could kiss him, if I wanted. "You like getting fucked, don't you?"

Will's voice was light and teasing, and Nicole hummed around my cock. Her knees swayed and Will reached down between their bodies to massage her clit, balancing himself on one arm. I wanted to come, but I was so fucking fascinated by what I was seeing.

Nicole's tongue was pierced and it felt insane. The extra stimulation made me want to jam my cock right down her throat on instinct. But I knew that was an asshole move and if I did that, the feeling of the little steel ball would go away. So instead, I was thrusting gently into her mouth, occasionally down her throat, as she writhed beneath Will and I both, moaning and gripping my hands. I looked up just in time to see Will lose himself inside her, and that did it.

"Nicole," I breathed. "I'm gonna come."

She stiffened slightly. I was not going to make this girl swallow my cum if she wasn't into it. I gently pulled out of her mouth and quickly spilled over the mattress, our entwined hands, and the side of one of her breasts.

I bent to kiss her again and apologized for getting her messy. I didn't even realize Will had left the bed because Nicole and I were giggling like a couple of school kids. Will returned with a hand towel, a washcloth, and a small basin of water. He handed Nicole and I the washcloth and we cleaned our hands and her body.

"Well," Will handed us each a fresh, opened beer. "That was fun."

"It was nice," Nicole said and sat up. She had a little grin on her face as she started to straighten the sheets and blankets. "But I don't know why were doing this in here. You're such a fucking pig, Will. Look at your bed." I wondered if she had come again with Will. I hoped she had.

I reached out and touched the skin inside her damp thighs. Of course, I saw the tattoo before, I just didn't know what it was until right then.

"Is that… a bite?"

Will and Nicole both laughed, and she shook her drying hair over her shoulders.

"Yeah," she answered, rotating her legs outward to shed more of the dim light onto the tat. "It's a vampire bite. Do you like it?"

"Wild." I'm sure I looked at her in awe. She and Will chuckled again, looking a little bit like Sid & Nancy, cozied up on the messy mattress on the floor.

"Let's go to your room, love." Will stood and walked across the mattress toward his dresser. "Your bed's bigger."

Will and I gathered our beers, and I handed Nicole the discarded shirt from the floor. Will was walking around naked with absolutely no apprehension, and I wasn't exactly shy, but I could tell that Nicole wasn't looking forward to waltzing through their apartment without anything on. She thanked me for the shirt, slid her arms into it, scooted off the edge of the bed, and stood up, pulling the shirt around her middle, but not buttoning it.

She stopped in the bathroom along the way as Will and I wandered to the end of the hall where Nicole's much larger and cleaner room was located. Nicole joined us moments later, quickly lighting a row of pillar candles on a silver platter, which decorated a low, antique-looking dresser. Will plopped down onto her bed, cross-legged, and scooted back so he was propped against pillows and the headboard.

"Come and sit," Will spoke to Nicole, and patted the lavender-colored comforter in front of his folded legs. "I want to comb your hair."

Nicole switched off the lamp beside the bed and grabbed a brush from the drawer. She then handed the brush to Will and climbed into his lap. He started to gently comb her hair and she smiled.

With the exception of the brief moment when I could have kissed Will, and his fleeting touch to my hip, we hadn't had much contact. I wondered if we would. Not that I wasn't enjoying myself. Just the thought of him being there with me, with her, was stimulating. I was already getting hard again.

I sat on the edge of the mattress, very aware of my nudity and my erection. Nicole was relaxed in Will's lap, her back to his chest, and her thighs lightly open. I reached out a hand to see how wet she was, stroking her with one finger, and she moaned.

"Do you want us both, now, love?" Will murmured into her ear. Nicole's face flushed pink and she nodded "yes."

"I do," she breathed.

Will dropped the brush to the surface of her bedside table and opened the drawer. I thought he was going to replace the brush, but instead he pulled out a small plastic bottle.

"Get up on your knees, then," Will instructed, and Nicole complied. He was still propped up against the pillows, giving him easy access to her body. Her shirt fell open and I lost my mind as I turned and knelt on the bed in front of her.

Will stretched out his legs and Nicole straddled his thighs. I moved between his knees and pushed the shirt from her shoulders, kissing her everywhere, pulling her nipples between my lips one at a time.

I slid my hand into her hair, cradling her head, and looked over her shoulder at Will. I watched him relax into a reclined sitting position against the pillows, and coat his fingers with the slick substance from the plastic bottle. His hand disappeared under her and she sighed.

"Another," she whispered. He must've been penetrating her with his fingers. And she wanted more.

I had read about anal sex, and I really wanted to try it, but I never felt like there was an appropriate time for it. But these two knew what they were doing. At least I could enjoy the show.

I reached between Nicole and my bodies and stroked her clit. God, she was so fucking wet, slick, ready. I wanted her, but I knew I'd have to wait for my cue. And I also wanted her to come a million times for the beauty and grace that she was.

As I kissed her lips and her neck and listened to her sounds of satisfaction, I looked to see Will, still sliding his fingers into her ass, reach for a condom and bring it to his mouth. He tore the package open with his teeth, then removed his fingers from her long enough to roll the latex down his cock.

I cannot tell a lie. It was fucking hot watching him handle himself with confidence and purpose. I wanted to touch him like that.

"Sit back, now." Will gently pulled Nicole's thighs further open and back. "Sit on my cock, just the way you like."

I helped her balance and I watched in fascination as she hovered, kneeling above him, straddling his angled hips like a reverse cowgirl, and then sinking slowly down into his lap.

"Fucking Christ," Will breathed and grinned ear to ear. "You are such a beautiful, dirty girl."

Nicole slowly rose up and settled down twice before she finally looked at me, wantonly inviting me in. I moved closer, between Will's outstretched thighs, which were encased by Nicole's knees. Will handed me a condom and I didn't hesitate to rip open the package and roll the fucker on. I wanted in. Immediately.

Nicole wrapped her arms around my neck. She was suspended in front of Will as he held her hips and she rode him. I planted one hand beside Will's hip on the bed and guided my cock inside her with my other hand.

Fuck, I wanted to drive into her hard and fast. I pitched forward, feeling her grip me, and feeling Will slipping in and out on the other side of her wall. I buried my fists in the comforter on either side of Will's hips and my face in Nicole's neck.

"Can you feel me, Cullen? I can feel you. Fuck, that's good."

I stopped kissing Nicole's neck and started kissing Will's mouth. I liked his words, but I couldn't decide if I wanted to consume them or hear them.

Nicole gasped and bit my shoulder. She said "fuck" and "slower" and "harder" and "FUCK." I rotated my hips, mindless to everything but her pussy and Will's mouth. I did what felt good, thrusting and sucking, groaning. I felt her tighten around me, felt Will's fingers dig into my hip, heard her groan loudly and Will grunt.

I don't remember much after I came. We cleaned up, exhausted and smiling. We all piled into Nicole's bed. I was the middle spoon, with Nicole tucked into my chest.

At some point before dawn, I woke to Nicole languidly stroking my cock, kissing my neck and my chest, and licking my nipples. I felt Will's hands on me, too. His hands were slick and wet. In a blissful haze, I felt him slowly work one lubed finger into my ass. I came all over Nicole's hands and belly before rolling her to her back and burying my face in her pussy. My last memory of that encounter was Will lying on his side, jacking off while Nicole came in my mouth for the second time.

The next morning I awoke alone. I smelled coffee and there was a note beside me on the rumpled bed.


Nicole had to work and I'm going to the gym. Help yourself to coffee or whatever.

Thanks for last night. We loved being with you. If you'd like to do it again sometime, just say the word.

See you at The Bronze,

Will and Nicole

The previous night had been my last gig at The Bronze. Two weeks later, I graduated college. I never saw either of them again.

4. Happy Birthday, Edward

A/N: This was originally written for Kassiah because A) she is a princess, B) she loves these two dirty perverts as much as I do, and C) she bid on me to kick cancer's ass in the 2010 Support Stacie auction. I love you, Kass.

"Happy Birthday."

I hear her husky voice before I see or feel her. Bella's been out of town and I wasn't expecting her back until tonight. Not that I'm disappointed.

"Hey, baby," I greet her, trying to gather my bearings, sitting up in my bed.

I really am happy that she's home early, especially when I get a look at her.

Bella's wearing a trench coat and black, strappy heels. Her long, dark hair is full and curled around her pretty face. The coat is white and it falls just below her knees. It's heavy, but tailored to fit her petite frame, cinched tight around her tiny waist. When I recognize her furtive grin, my morning wood is suddenly tree-like.

"You're home early," I mutter and rub my face with my hands, discreetly checking my breath. It smells like shit, so I grab the glass of water that I filled at four AM when I stumbled to bed. I take a few gulps, swishing it around in my mouth.

"No Girls Allowed," is what Emmett said last night. He, Jasper, and the Gay Mafia took me for sushi, then we played poker at the club, where Eric offered (threatened) to give me a lap dance. Twice.

"C'mere." I try to swing my legs around to get up and out of bed, but Bella stops my movement with the toe of her stiletto-encased foot placed delicately against my chest. Her opposite hand is braced on my headboard and the delicate fingers of her other hand dance lightly at her throat.

"Stay," she whispers and her face flushes pink. Her eyes flick briefly to mine and I can see the indecision dance across her face. She's into this, but she's used to me driving the train.

Bella drops her foot to the edge of the mattress and tosses her hair back as I slowly lean on my side, into my pillows. She rolls her shoulders and the opening of her coat reveals her beautiful chest.

Fuck me.

I can see white lace covering her breasts and black satin on her shoulders.

"Just… relax." Her voice is small and quiet, raspy. It's an aphrodisiac all its own. If Bella hadn't had aspirations for other things, she could have made a fortune as a phone sex professional. "It's your birthday. I don't want you to have to work too hard."

"What if I want to work hard?" I smirk. No matter how hung over I am, I love working Bella hard.

"There'll be time for that later." She's gaining confidence as I push her, which is how this usually works with us. She starts off shy and intimidated, I antagonize her, and she's suddenly huffy and bossy. I dig bossy Bella.

"Right now, just sit back and enjoy the show." She smiles sweetly and her dimples pop, making me chuckle with delight.

Bella slowly unties the belt, which is the only thing keeping her coat closed around her, and runs her fingers from her throat down the front of her body. I can better see what she's wearing now. Her bra and panty set looks like an abbreviated French maid uniform or a mock tuxedo, and I could not be more fucking thrilled.

I moan and grab a stray pillow, bringing it to my chest. I'm perpetually turned on when I'm hung over.

Last month, Bella and I finally agreed – after ten months of packing overnight bags and sleeping at each other's places – that we would take the plunge and buy a ranch together. We went out and celebrated with shots and too much beer.

Thankfully, Heidi kept Delia busy the morning after while I took Bella in every way imaginable for hours on end between brief naps, sips of water, and bathroom breaks.

Bella drops the coat to the floor, kicks it aside, and backs away from the bed. Her hands roam lazily over her body as she starts to tease me with her words.

"Edward…" She pauses and fidgets, eyes glued to the floor. "Have I ever told you how much I love your hands?" she asks, raising her eyes just enough to meet mine through her lashes.

I don't answer Bella's question. I know she's trying to talk dirty. She's trying to get herself warmed up to say something really dirty, but the dirtiest thing she can think of right now – or ever, really – is to talk about my hands.

"See that iPod?" she asks, as her fingers move absently over her skin. I briefly break our eye contact and turn my head slightly to spy Bella's familiar green Nano in the docking station next to the bed. I return my gaze to her perfect little body and rake my eyes up her form to meet her eyes again. I nod "yes."

"I want you to use your hands, Edward." Her voice is quiet and it lilts as her thumbs hook in the edges of her tiny, frilly panties. I lick my lips and watch her slowly stretch and slip the silky waistband up and down her hips like a tease. "I want you to push play. On the iPod."

I'm enthralled by all that skin and her sweet voice. It takes me a good three seconds, which doesn't seem like long, but she's looking at me like I'm slow. It finally registers that she's – half-naked and turned on – given me a command, and my eyes snap to hers.

She slowly swivels her hips and licks her lips, then brings a hand up to the strap over her shoulder and snaps it at the front.

"Now," she demands with an arch of her brow.

Fucking shit.

"Yes, ma'am," I answer and turn to press play.

Music fills the room. The beat is slow and sultry. A woman's voice sings along with a familiar melody. A man's voice joins the woman's voice, and Bella is smiling, swaying, her hands doing all the things mine want to be doing.

The man says he's a man and the woman says she's… a lot of things, from a bitch to a geisha to a little girl—things that Bella would never say in a situation like this.

She'd say these things jokingly with a drink in her hand, self-deprecating and laughing, but never with any kind of seriousness or intent.

There's moaning and sighing in the song. I know this is a remake of that old Berlin song, but I don't care where it came from because Bella's hand is in the front of her panties and two of the fingers of her other hand are in her mouth.

She isn't saying a word. She's leaving all the dirty talk up to the couple on the porn soundtrack, which is fine with me since her mouth is otherwise occupied with glorious licking and sucking. She gives equal attention to both sets of fingers once she switches her hands - the hand that was in her panties is now in her mouth and the wet fingers from her mouth are in her panties.

"Mmm," she moans.


I shouldn't be objectifying my beautiful girlfriend, who I love, as she writhes around like a stripper, doing all the cliché things that people mock in mixed company. But fuck, she looks hot. Like I've never seen. And Bella is fucking crazy hot.

And I am fucking crazy horny. My dick is so hard I'm about to come in my pajama pants watching her finger herself – which, by the way, I have never watched her do. Not that she's never touched herself with me in the same room, but I've never sat and watched her get herself off like this.

"I'm a slut," the woman coos, and I swear to fucking God, Bella moans back.


She pulls one of the cups of her bra down and pinches her nipple as she sits back on the settee. I just now notice that she's dragged the piece of furniture around so that when she leans back I have a perfect view of her from my position on the bed.

She's sprawled open with her hand between her legs. She's slouched, looking debauched and wanton. I want to fuck her, but I want to watch her do this. I want to record it and review it whenever I'm sad or lonely or scared, because Bella with her hair a mess and her tits spilling from her bra, making herself come with her own hands on my settee is a beautiful thing.

She throws one of her legs over one of the red upholstered arms then settles on her side, keeping one leg dangling toward the floor. Her legs are open wide enough for her to reach what she wants to touch. She has both hands in her panties now, and I'm gripping the pillow for dear fucking life. I watch her back arch and her dangling, black, strappy sandal scrape at the floor.

I listen to the music change as I watch Bella relax into the cushions. She pulls her legs together and her hands from her panties. She puts her fingers in her mouth again and opens her eyes, burning into mine. She lays curled on her side, sucking her fingers and humming along with the song.

The new song is If Loving You is Wrong by Faithless. Bella's picked some filthy lyriced music for this little adventure, but I'm not complaining.

"…I swear you look wicked with your panties in your hair,

Eyes half closed,

Cute little nose,

And like a pound of self-raising I just rose and rose."

Bella rises to her feet and fumbles with her bra as she slowly walks to the bed. She pulls her straps over her shoulders and caresses and bounces her rounded flesh. She pinches her nipples again and then reaches around behind her to unclasp the hook, slowly removing it completely and quickly tossing it to the side.

She continues to approach me in those fucking gorgeous shoes, because she knows I love fucking her with her shoes on.

God, I hope she lets me fuck her with her shoes on.

She rounds the bed at the foot and climbs onto the mattress, crawling toward me, reaching for the pillow then tossing it away. She pulls the sheets down and drags my pajama pants over my hips.

"Oh." Bella gasps and sits back on her haunches, straddling one of my shins. She bites her lip and tilts her head to the side, feigning innocence. The soft curls of her hair fall gently around her face. "What's that?"

I moan and fall completely back into my pillows. I love this game she's playing.

She falls forward onto all fours, pouts her lips, and kisses my cock, sweet and slow.

"Fuck," I chucklegroan and thrust. I want inside her mouth. I want to push hard and slow, sink my fingers into her hair and fuck her throat. I want to stand up and bend her over and take her from behind. I want to fuck her till she can't breathe. I am so fucking hard, and I might still be drunk. And Bella is going to make me come so fast.

She places a gentle hand on my hip and calms me, smirking, settling me into the mattress. I relax slightly, but my hands grip the sheets. She looks into my eyes and I see so much love. God, I love her.

She shakes her head, then dips her chest toward my groin, teasing my cock with her tits. She's barely even touching me, but the visual is stunning. She's not tightening her cleavage or squeezing my dick between her tits. She's just gliding across my hips and her taut nipples are whispering over my skin.

I jacked off in the shower once thinking about Bella in a position very much like this one. In my fantasy, I fucked her tits and she loved it when I came on her neck and face.

It never occurred to me that she would consider such a scenario. I lie back in awe as she lightly grasps my cock and alternates between sucking me into her mouth and teasing me with her nipples. The whole time she watches me, batting her eyes.

This innocent act is killing me. My mind is void of thoughts that aren't directly related to Bella's skin and hair and her wet mouth.

This is going to be messy. I'm going to come hard and loud and, holy fucking…

"Shit," I whisper. I look down and see Bella jacking me firmly, and then I spill across her shoulder, her collarbones, and her pretty, pretty tits.

I wake and Bella is curled into my side. She's breathing slow and steady. She's asleep. I spot a fresh glass of water on my nightstand, pull slowly away from her so I don't wake her, gulp the cool water down, and get up to use the bathroom.

That's when I remember.

"Fuck, baby, you look so good with my cum all over you…"

I shake my head and wander to the bathroom to relieve myself. I brush my teeth and wash my face. I feel less hung over and smelly after I brush my teeth a second time. When I walk back out into the room, I see that Bella hasn't moved. I notice that she's pulled her hair up into a ponytail, but she's still wearing her heels and her panties with the ruffles and bows.

I swiped a finger between her tits and said, "lick."

I crawl onto the bed behind her to spoon. I want to make everything up to her and talk to her with tenderness and be everything she is to me.

"Hey," she whispers into my forearm and kisses my skin with her pretty mouth.

"Hey," I whisper back. I try not to feel like a dirty piece of trash for treating her with such disregard after she offered me the best birthday gift ever. I am such a fucking asshole.

"I love you so much, Bella. You know that, right?" I squeeze her hard, trying to convey my feelings of love and regret, and she grunts from the pressure.

"I love you, too, Edward." Her voice is tight, but she laughs. "But please stop squeezing me so hard, you'll break a rib."

"I'm sorry, baby." I release her just enough to allow her to breathe, but I refuse to let her go. I'm not just sorry for squeezing her too hard. "It's just… You're so good to me. So beautiful and perfect and I…"

"You're beautiful and perfect." Bella turns in my arms to face me. "Edward, I trust you. And what we do together is us. Together. Like…" She rolls her eyes and closes them, then swallows hard. I'm afraid she might cry, but she's trying to make a point, so I need to shut the fuck up and let her make it.

"Don't try to make excuses for what happened earlier. Don't apologize for wanting me and showing it." When she opens her eyes, they are fiery and so full of love I can barely breathe. "I was scared as Hell to do that dance..." She laughs nervously and her lip quivers. "But when you just… let go like that." She takes a deep breath. "I was fine with it – turned on, even – that you were so turned on by me."

"Bella." I hold her close to me, trying not to crush her. "How could you think after all we've been through that I wouldn't be turned on by that? Christ."

"Pretty hot, huh?" She giggles into my chest. "But do you think I could ever do that for anyone else-"

"Please say you will never do that for anyone else-"

"No." She pulls away from my chest and looks me in the eye, her lips quirked into a grin. "Only you. Just you and me."

I kiss her tenderly, then not so tenderly. Then I turn her so that her back is to me and lay her flat on her stomach.

I straddle her hips and kiss her soft skin. Bella has the smoothest, prettiest, best smelling skin of anyone I have ever known. Her body is flawless and lithe, but her skin is what makes her absolutely perfect. Her skin and just… her.

Keeping my legs on the outside of her body, I scoot backward and settle my ass between her knees. I explore her backside and knead the skin of her thighs, and she sighs. She rests her head on her hands and arches her back, raising her ass up. I pull her panties down over her ass, halfway down her thighs, and cup her perfect little cheeks, one in each hand, my thumbs slipping down the crack of her ass, skimming until I reach her center.

I slip my thumbs back upward and caress the curve where her ass meets her thighs. I love that spot, she always squirms and whimpers when I touch her there. I run my thumbs back down to her wet lips, then roll my wrist to slip my fingers inside. My fingers fuck her slowly and my wet thumb nudges at her back opening.

I'm getting hard thinking about all the things I've done to her body and all the things I could do to her right now as she lays there vulnerable.

I don't feel guilty anymore. Go figure.

Her hands grip the pillow and I hear her moan when I pull my fingers out to get her wet all over, then slide my fingers back inside. I leave my hand between her legs – fingers inside, thumb rubbing and pressing in the back – and sidle up beside her to brush her hair to the side and kiss her neck. She's panting and rolling and ready to come.

"You gonna be a good girl and come on my hand, baby?" I ask, and I'm breathing right along with her.

She rises up on all fours and slams back onto my hand. The frills of the panties are bunched around her thighs, ruffling and shaking with the force of her thrusts. Her hair is in my other hand so I pull it, turning her head to the side. She's riding my hand hard, and I feel her throb around my fingers.

"That's right," I encourage her, nibbling her neck and stroking her hair. "That's good."

She slowly settles into the mattress on her side, her chest rising and falling. She's covered with a light sheen of sweat and I want to lick it off.

"Roll over." I nudge her. "On your back."

She nods her head and rolls to her back. I climb backward off the bed. I pull her panties the rest of the way off her body then grab her by the ankle and drag her to the edge of the mattress. She's almost falling off the edge, one leg dangling and one ankle in my hand. I grab her loose leg by the ankle and plant both of her heels at the edge of the bed.

"Stay." I tap her feet indicating that I want her in this position. On her back, her knees bent and open wide. Her shiny, black shoes, making me harder, heels digging into the mattress.

I rest my knees against the edge of the bed, in between her feet and her hips, balance one hand on her knee, and use my other hand to guide myself inside her.

She moans and takes her breasts in her hands.

God, she's wet.

"I love you, Bella." I start a slow beat, grabbing her waist to keep her opening flush with the edge of the mattress. The buckles of her shoes are scraping my hips, and it feels so fucking good.

I have full leverage, in a squat, thrusting into her. I angle my thrusts to hit the spot I know she likes. I'm gripping her hips and her whole body shakes with the force.

"Fuck," she moans and she looks shameless. Her other hand travels down between her legs and she starts to rub her clit around and around. She's decadent, and I remember again what she looked like with my cum on her.

I groan. I'm not going to make it much longer.

"You liked it when I came on you, Bella?" I ask tentatively.

"Yes," she whispers and gasps. Her fingers are working her clit so fast. "Oh, God…"

Fuck, she really liked it. I love hearing that she liked it. That she loves me. That she would do those things for me, with me, and no one else. The songs, the dance, everything.

I'm a slut…

"Are you my slut, baby?" I whisper, testing. I know she likes it when I talk dirty, but I've never called her dirty names. I want to play with her. I want to do all the things we both fantasize about. But I never want to hurt her or disrespect her.

Bella whimpers and her fingers work faster. She bites her lip and furrows her brow. She likes this too, and she's going to come.

"You are." I slam straight into her, confident in my word choice, and I feel her vibrating around me. "You're my good little slut." I grit my teeth and watch her pull her own hair and raise her hips from the bed.

"Oh, fuck," she whimpers.

I love coming with Bella. In her, on her, with her – it's all so good.

After a moment of recovery, I lift her and push her up toward the head of the bed, resting her on the pillows and staying inside her. We're both sweaty. I love these moments. I've always loved sex, but being with Bella is more than that. It's kissing and laughing and touching and growing.

"You and me?" I ask, breathless, looking her in the eye. I kiss her nose and she giggles that giggle that I love so, so much.

"Yes." She nips my bottom lip. "You and me." She kisses me. "And Delia and Kita. And our ranch. And probably a few horses."

I kiss her back.

"And, ooh! Can we get a llama?" I think she's kidding. I hope she's kidding.

But who am I kidding? I'd trap Jabba the Hut as a pet for her if she wanted. Not just for a birthday present, but because I love her. And I will always love her until the end of time.

5. Erotica

AN: This was originally written for FGB 2010. This is set sometime between the Valentine's Day anal vibe outtake and Edward's birthday striptease – still within their first year of dating.

I'm sitting in Peter's living room staring at a book of photography. All the images are black and white portraits of people in various stages of dress and what Garrett refers to as "play". Some of the images are of a man and a woman, some are of women with women, some are men with men, and I'm surprised to realize that the images that intrigue me the most are of one woman and two or sometimes more men. I am even more surprised to realize that the images I like the very best are of a woman who has been blindfolded, bound and otherwise dominated by the man or men in the images.

"See anything you like, princess?" Peter asks, as he wipes down the counter in his and Garrett's kitchen. Garrett is sitting on the couch behind me, me between his knees on the floor, peering over my shoulder.

"We just had a bridal shower for Angela and now we're looking at porn," I state the obvious, clearly disoriented by the situation, as Garrett snickers behind me.

"It's not porn, dear," Peter scolds and wags his wet, soapy finger at me, shaking suds over the counter he just wiped down. "It's erotica, and you should enjoy it. Embrace it!" He throws his hands in the air and bubbles fly everywhere in his kitchen. "You and Mr. Cullen are a couple of kinky birds. That book is right up your proverbial alley."

"Yeah, Izz," Garrett agrees, because apparently it's a well known fact that Edward and I like to fuck. "Maybe you'll even find some new material."

I look back down at the book and take in the image before me. It's simple enough at first, but its implications are subtly boring into my mind. The woman sits blindfolded in a dining chair. She's wearing a short, sheer black cocktail dress. The man stands behind her, pulling the skirt of her dress up to expose her thighs and the gartered stockings that cover them. She looks a little nervous. She seems to be squirming in her seat, but her hands lay relaxed in her lap, at ease.

Eventually, I close the book and finish my apple cider. When I'm finally ready to leave, I quickly kiss Garrett and Peter goodbye, since all the other guests already left. I make my way across the street to my Jeep, fire up the old girl and let her idle for a few minutes, checking my mirrors, adjusting the heat, and fantasizing about the images I saw tonight.

On my ten-minute drive to Edward's house, the image of the blindfolded girl in the black dress blends with images of silk ties and ropes. I start to see the girl with her hands bound behind the back of the chair and her ankles strapped to the wooden legs. I imagine the man sinking his hands into her hair as she swallows him down, and I moan.

"Hey, baby," Edward mumbles around my lips, as I straddle him on the couch and pull his t-shirt up, then over his head. "How was the shower?"

He's clearly amused (and possibly confused) by my behavior, but his hands rest comfortably on my hips, as I lean back just enough to gain access to his jeans. I unbutton his fly and slide from his lap. I ask him, in my own little way, to keep himself "occupied" while I watch and hastily shove my leggings and panties down past my knees to the tops of my red-leather riding boots. My calves are restricted like this, and I kind of like it. I hurry as fast as I can in my limited capacity to settle back over his lap, facing him, then I slowly sink down.

"Not that I'm complaining, Bella, but what the fuck's got you so worked up?" Edward makes a sound that's a cross between a chuckle and a grunt, as he grips my thighs.

I start to ride him hard. I like the sounds of his grunting, but I don't want this practical conversation right now. I just need to be with him. I bury my face in his neck and lick him.

"Tell me I'm your good girl," I whisper. My voice shakes and my breath is hot as it covers his neck and warms my face. I smile and rotate my hips, squeezing as I pull up. I feel him sliding inside me, getting harder by the second.

Edward's hands travel up my thighs and stop at my bare hips. His thumbs brush my hipbones, and I roll my head until my neck is exposed to him. He places a single kiss to my throat before whispering, "You're my good, sweet girl."

His hands remain somewhat passive, languidly stroking my skin and fingering my twisted clothing, as I fuck the living daylights out of him, but his words make me crazy. Words like "harder" and whispered questions like, "Are you gonna come on my cock, baby?"

I think that was a rhetorical question. Regardless, I totally come on his cock. I also may have pulled a hamstring in the process.

Later, as we're climbing into bed for the night, Edward asks me again what got into me since I practically knocked us both unconscious to get him inside me before really even saying hello. I tell him about the book Peter and Garrett have at their house.

"You've never seen anything like that before?" Edward asks, stroking my hair, as I burrow in beside him with my head on his bare chest and sigh.

I love Edward's bare chest.

"Not really?" I don't know how to answer him. Of course I've seen porn before, but I had never seen a collection quite like that, and I'd never been that affected by them. "I guess I just never felt that way about… pictures… before."

"Did you like them?" His hand smoothes over the skin of my arm and my hip, while the other hand toys with strands of my hair.

I weigh my answer carefully, because even though Edward and I have done everything I've ever wanted or thought of, and he has never made me feel unloved or unworthy because of what I like, I'm still not sure exactly what it is I liked about what I saw.

"I don't know how to answer that," I say, and I feel my face flush, thinking of ropes around ankles and black silk covering a woman's eyes.

"Maybe you can just tell me what you saw and then we can talk about it – no value placement, no preferences." He pauses, waiting for that idea to sink in, and I decide that it sounds okay.

I don't respond with words; I simply nod, running my hand over his chest, down his stomach and into his pajama pants. He isn't hard, but he's warm, and I feel him twitch when my hand wraps gently around him.

I tell him about the woman in the chair and the man behind her. I'm not sure if I describe it adequately, but Edward seems to be following along just fine. He doesn't stop stroking my back and playing with my hair as I babble on.

"I can't stop thinking about her," I admit, as his cock slowly hardens in my hand. I touch him lightly with my fingers and say the words that come into my mind thinking of these images. "I keep picturing her in the blindfold and her skirt hiked up… But then I see her with handcuffs or ropes around her wrists, and her feet are always bound to the chair legs."

I'm a little bit confused about what I'm feeling at this point, but the image of the woman is clearer than ever in my mind. Edward and I have screwed around with handcuffs, and he's given me a little smack to the ass on occasion, but this is like… a whole scene, intricate and detailed. It's intimidating thinking about something so involved.

Edward takes my hand out of his pants and rolls us so I'm on my back. I'm easy for him to expose, which he does quite swiftly, because all I'm wearing is panties and an old button-down of his that I only buttoned twice.

"Keep talking, baby." Edward spreads the shirt open at my sides and pulls my nipples into his mouth one at a time, then works his way down my torso, pulling my panties down my thighs. He tosses the satin to the floor and settles between my legs. "Tell me more about the girl."

Edward licks between my lower lips with his flat tongue once then lightly kisses my clit. He slips his tongue inside me and touches me with his fingers and thumb. I raise my arms above my head and start to ramble about the woman and the man and what I want him to do to her.

"I want him to tie her to the chair and..." I moan. "Oh, God…"

I keep talking about wanting the man to do things. I say I want him to stand up and make her take his cock in her mouth. I outline an entire fantasy for Edward as I come. When I settle down, I realize: these are things I want Edward to do to me. It's not the woman and the man in the picture, it's Edward and me.

"I want you, Edward," I breathe, as he settles in next to me. "I want you to do that to me."

Edward's eyes search mine. His fingers tickle my skin and then cradle my face. He closes his eyes and kisses me.

"I'll do anything you want," he whispers between my lips. "But I want to research knots and bindings first."

Edward sounds apprehensive, and when I look into his face, his brow is furrowed.

This is surprising because he's so experienced and we've experimented a lot together not to mention everything he did before he knew me. He told me once that it didn't matter what he'd done before, because everything we did together was special between us.

Oh, man… Maybe I grossed him out!

"Does that gross you out?" I put a bit of distance between us, just to get a good look at his face. The thought of offending Edward is such a foreign concept to me, but if I have offended him, I'll be heartbroken. I never want to drive him away from me. I always want him with me.

"Not at all," he answers softly, pulling me close once more. He kisses my forehead. "It's just new." He shifts his body next to me so we're snuggled in closer. "I want to play, but I want us to be safe."

It never occurred to me that I would want to do something sexually that was new to Edward. I've always relied on his expertise and guidance. I'm stunned silent for a minute, then flustered, then smug.

"Wow." I smirk, propping myself up on my elbow. The covers fall away from my body, and I cock an eyebrow. "I can't believe I came up with an idea that's new to you." I bat my eyes, teasingly.

"Well, if you remember right, you're the one who bought me the Anal Sex kit for Valentine's Day, sassy," Edward drawls and grabs my knee, pulling my leg across his body, trying to get me to sit astride him.

"Yeah, but you'd done that before." I swat his hands, but make no real attempt to resist his pull. "This is new. I think I should get a cookie or something!"

"Silly, Bella," Edward scoffs and settles me over the top of him. He grabs my wrist, pulling me down for a kiss. "I'm not going to give you a cookie just because you asked me to tie you up and fuck your mouth."

"You're so crass," I mumble into the kiss, and he nibbles my bottom lip. He's rotated his hips and is now guiding himself inside me with one hand. "Can't you say 'make love to your mouth'? Jeez..."

A few weeks pass while Edward researches bondage and I browse pictures on the Internet. I Google images of "BDSM", "bondage" and "woman bound to a chair", looking for the image of the girl, but I never find it. Finally, I break down and ask Peter if I can borrow the book.

"See now, I told you you'd find something you'd like." Peter simpers as he hands me the book. I'm drinking his god-awful coffee from a Wolfram & Hart mug in his kitchen, wishing we were conducting this clandestine transaction at the coffee shop where he magically knows how to brew a decent cup of coffee.

"Why didn't you come to me sooner?" he asks, and I accept the proffered book. "Hell, I'll give you the damn book, love. Take it home, study it, let that boy do things to you that you refuse to acknowledge in public." Peter shakes a cigarette from its pack onto the tabletop. "I support you one-hundred percent."

He twists the cigarette between his lips and lights it, making me wish I still smoked. After I finish the horrid brown beverage, I borrow – I don't take – the book, and I show it to Edward when he shows up at my apartment.

"Pretty dress," Edward says with a soft and dreamy lilt. We're sitting on my futon with the book open on the covers, the afternoon light waning through the window.

"You have something like that, don't you? Is that what you want to wear?"

"Yeah," I reply quietly, as I trace the image on the page with my pointer finger. Seeing it again in its simplicity – no ropes, no cuffs – reminds me that my imagination is a vast and wild space. "I think I do. Do you like it?" I look into his face. I'm sure my expression is hopeful – I feel hopeful. I want him to want this as much as I do.

"The picture or the dress?" he asks, smiling down at me, but he doesn't wait for my answer as he lightly shakes his head from side to side, inhaling deeply. "I like them both very much."

As we flip through the book, taking in the sensual images, Edward tells me he feels confident about the research he's done and that he has everything we need for the scenario I've concocted in my brain.

I feel a buzz of satisfaction travel through my body, warming me with the thought that he took the time to research this, to do it right. I don't ask about the details of his findings, but I do look forward to the final result.

Two nights later, Delia has a sleep over with Uncle Peter and Uncle Garrett. I stand in Edward's dressing closet, slipping into a black strapless, satin bra, garter belt and stockings – no panties. I dress in my shimmery black, chiffon cocktail dress and patent leather heels that Edward loves. The straps of the dress are slim chains of crystals and they're cool against my skin.

I can hear Edward moving around in the kitchen, loading the dishwasher, cleaning up after dinner, while I make my way down the back stairs to the main floor. As I enter the kitchen, I hear a chair scrape across the floor in the dining room, and I freeze.

That's the chair. No turning back now, Bella.

When I can move my legs again, I walk the rest of the way to the dining room where Edward has killed the lights, and burning candles cast a warm glow around the space. Edward stands quietly relaxed behind the chair in question. His face is serene and welcoming. He didn't change his clothes when he got home from his meeting, so he's wearing dark wool slacks, a crisp white button-down, and a crimson tie that he's loosened slightly at the neck.

Oh, God, the tie.

"Have a seat." His hand sweeps cordially in front of the chair, and his voice makes me melt.

I comply with his request, listening as my heels click the bare walnut planks of his dining room floor. I reach the edge of the chair then turn to sit. Within seconds, Edward's warm fingers are pulling my hair away from my neck where he scatters three soft kisses before settling my hair back in place.

"I'm going to blindfold you now," he tells me, and I whimper inside my mind. I promised him that I would be very, very quiet. That's all he asked of me when we discussed our plan last night in bed.

"I have one small request." His eyes danced with excitement, and his fingers toyed with my nipples. "When I have you all tied up in that chair, I want you to stay nice and quiet, okay?"

I feel the silk cover my eyes and remember buying the eye mask earlier in the week. Rose asked me if I was having trouble sleeping and suggested I also try melatonin. I laughed. She thought I was crazy.

The blindfold is soft and black, lightly padded, and not at all snug. It doesn't matter, though, because I close my eyes anyway, blocking out any light that might leak through.

Edward's hands ghost over my hair, my shoulders, down my arms. Then his hands leave me, and I hear his belt come undone and free – clinking metal, zipping leather through wool loops.

"I'm going to bind your hands together now." Edward tells me everything he's doing as he's doing it, with his thick, warm voice.

I hear shifting fabric and imagine him on bended knee behind my chair, as my arms are pulled back and together. The leather of his belt is wound around my wrists then pulled tight. He doesn't bind my hands to the chair, only together, and I like that I have just a little bit of movement. My breath shudders and my body warms.

Edward's hands move to the hem of my dress from behind me – his fingers playing, pulling the fabric back, brushing the sensitive skin of my thighs. There is a light rush of air around me as he stands, my skirt slipping under my ass.

"Look at that." Edward's voice plays in my ears and his fingers trace the lace garters, then snap one against my thigh. "Such pretty stockings and garters, but no panties? I thought you were a good girl, Bella."

I squirm and bite my lip, trying to rub my thighs together for some friction, but Edward places his hands firmly on the tops of my thighs, pushing them further apart.

"Keep them open, Bella." His voice is stern, and I couldn't be more thrilled to hear the warning in his tone.

He releases my legs, and I do keep them open, feeling the air shift again as he circles the chair before coming to a stop in front of me. I hear the slipping of his silk tie as he unfastens it, then the slide of the tie through the cotton of his collar.

"Now I'm going to have to tie your ankle to the chair, Bella, since you can't seem to keep your legs open for me," Edward chastises, and I squirm some more.

I imagine what my ankle must look like as he straps it to the wooden leg of the dining chair with his blue-red tie. Edward loves me in red – I'm pretty sure just the thought of red and me gives him an instant hard-on. I know the thought of his hard-on is giving me the female equivalent.

I wiggle my ankle experimentally, the silk of his tie slipping against my skin. Partof me hopes he doesn't see me do it, but a bigger part hopes he does and deems the act to be disobedient.

Mother of God, I want my boyfriend to catch me in disobedient acts and punish me accordingly.

Unexpectedly, Edward doesn't bind my other ankle. Instead he begins to trace patterns on my calves with his fingers, upward toward my knees and my thighs. One set of fingers travels between my legs and grazes my lower lips and clit. One hand continues up over the gauzy fabric bunched around my hips, climbing my ribcage, then the bust of the dress until it reaches its goal and yanks at the strap until it snaps.

"Fuck!" I swear and instinctively lunge forward, but then Edward's hand is against my breastbone, settling me back into the chair. His fingers curl around the curve where my shoulder meets my neck, thumb resting in the hollow of my throat.

"Ah, ah, ah…" His whispered admonishment envelops me, as he slips a thumb inside me, and his pointer finger nestles between my ass cheeks. "What did I say about you being quiet, bad girl?"

My heart is racing. One thumb gently rubs circles at my throat and the other twists inside me. This isn't necessarily what I had anticipated. I assumed as apprehensive as Edward was when I first mentioned him tying me to a chair that he'd just stick with the blueprint, so to speak. But Edward will never be accused of being predictable.

"I bet you want to come, don't you, Bella?" His thumb slips out of me to circle around my clit. His finger is more persistent between my cheeks. "And if I keep this up, you surely will."

I'm right on the edge, as he obviously can tell, and I try to slump into his hand, try to gain momentum, try to come. I feel the back of the chair dig into the skin of my arms and the leather of the belt restricting my wrists.

"But I don't want that yet, and you know it." I can hear Edward's grin in his words. His hands leave my body. He stands and I hear his pants being unbuttoned and unzipped. "Neither do you."

His presence heats my skin as he draws closer, wedging his knee between my legs, pressing into me. He hasn't entirely removed his pants – I can feel the wool against my sensitive clit and on the insides of my thighs. He buries a hand in the back of my hair, and I feel his bare cock nudge my mouth.

"Open up, baby," he mutters, lightly tugging my hair, showing me what we both want.

I open my mouth, and he slips inside. The moment solidifies in my mind. I finally feel what I was trying so fucking hard to conceptualize before now – I'm helpless, bound to this chair, as he steadily guides his way in and out of my mouth. His hand is firm at the back of my head. I have no control at all, but I feel completely stable and safe. I trust him more than I trust myself.

Bump, bump, bumping the back of my throat, soft wool rubbing my clit, leather at my wrists and silk entwining my ankle…

"There you go," Edward says, as he shifts his weight and drives deeper into my throat. The skin of his palm squeaks against the wood of the chair back as his other hand twines in my hair. His knee pushes me open wider, so my loose foot dangles to the side.

"Yes." His breath is ragged, and his thrusts are slow and strong, but then he starts to waver. He's coming and I'm ready. "Fuck!"

It's hot and salty, as it slides down my throat. Edward is tense and then relaxed.

He breathes and pulls himself from my lips, pitches forward, but not enough to topple us, just enough to keep me warm, cradling my head between his hand and his belly. I hum and lick my lips, nuzzling into his shirt.

Then he steps away, releasing me, and I hear him crouch to the floor. He's loosening the tie that's binding my ankle to the chair. When he stands again, he takes my arm that's fastened to the other behind my back and gently pulls me up, leaving my wrists bound.

"Stand up." His voice is soft and loving, encouraging.

I test my legs to stand and lean into him as he guides my arms over the back of the chair. Once I'm standing, I feel the chiffon slip over my hips and back down my thighs. One of the straps of my favorite party dress is ruined.

Jacqueline, my seamstress, would love this story, if I'd ever tell her.

"You are so fucking beautiful, Bella." He embraces me fully and holds me close, swaying, even though there is no music. I wish for a second that I could hug him back, and then I feel his hands working at the leather around my wrists behind my back.

"I'm going to guide you up the stairs now," he whispers into my hair, dropping the belt to the floor. He kisses my mouth for the first time since he welcomed me in the door tonight, and I melt into him.

Edward takes my hand and leads me up the back stairs. He holds me near to him as we walk down the hall, past Delia's room, past the linen closet, into his bedroom.

This room smells like him. I've always known it, subconsciously, but being blindfolded brings that fact front and center. I love the way he smells.

"I love you," he whispers from behind me, unzipping the back of my dress. He slides the undamaged crystal strap over my shoulder and the dress drops to the floor. Edward holds me steady by the elbow and suggests that I step out of the fabric around my feet. He kisses me again as he unfastens my bra and discards it somewhere unknown. I suddenly feel my garters pop and my stockings droop.

"Turn around and step back," Edward gently commands. I turn and step back once, bumping into the bed. I sit and feel Edward's hands on my feet, slipping my shoes off then pulling my stockings away. The last thing to go is the garter belt, and I'm lying on the bed in nothing but black silk covering my eyes.

"I'm taking my shirt off," Edward tells me. "My shoes and socks." I feel goose bumps rise all over my flesh, from the cool air and his voice. "And my pants."

The bed dips beside me, and his warm hands caress my skin. I sigh and stretch, wanting to curl into him.

"Now I'm just as naked as you."

He's so close to me, and I want him closer, but I'm not sure if I'm supposed to say or do anything he doesn't expressly tell me to do. The chair, one of our agreed upon props, is nowhere to be found, but I'm still wearing the blindfold. I don't know all the rules.

"Hello, pretty girl," Edward mutters as he slips the blindfold up from in front of my eyes. "How do you feel?"

I gasp as a rush of color and images flood my vision. Edward is so beautiful, smiling softly, lying nude next to me on his side. I throw my arms around his neckand kiss him. He chuckles against my lips and his arms slowly embrace me.

Fuck the rules.

We lie on top of his covers and make out like we're seventeen, touching everywhere, kissing and laughing. When I remember that I have a voice I thank him for doing this for me.

"I told you I'll do anything you want," Edward replies. "I always want to make you happy, Bella."

"I want you to be happy, too," I admit. "Did you like that?"

"I did." His hands grow more insistent as he strokes my hips and thighs. "I like trying new things with you, and I love making you squirm." He smirks and pulls my bottom lip into his mouth.

"Well, I was definitely squirmy," I laugh. "I think your Quiet Bella rule kinda clinched that deal."

"Yeah?" Edward rolls us so I'm on my back then slowly guides himself inside me. "I know being quiet is a hard thing for you." He jokes. "Maybe I'll gag you next time."

He thrusts hard and deep, slow and steady. I hold onto his shoulders and just feel him.

"Oh…" I breathe. "You just might have to do that, Edward." I wrap my legs around his hips, joining my ankles behind him. "I have a lot to say."

"Tell me all about it, baby."

We make love and it's intense as always, and I'm smiling the whole time as always.

After cleaning up and calming down, Edward pulls Peter's book out from under the bed.

"Did you steal that from my apartment?" I pretend to be offended. I'm not really offended.

"Shush." Edward puts his hand over my mouth as he walks on his knees toward me on the bed, the book tucked under his arm, fingers holding a place. He takes his hand away from my face and flops beside me, opening the book to one particular page. "So I'm serious about a gag. How do you feel about it?"

"Am I really that mouthy?" I tease, but I know he isn't kidding. I also know the gag isn't about me being mouthy.

"Yes, you're very mouthy, and I like it a lot," he asserts, as he gazes longingly at the image of the woman bent over an arm of a couch with what looks like a clown's nose between her teeth. I laugh and tell him I doubt I could keep a straight face knowing I had a clown's nose in my mouth.

"Fine, no ball-gag." Edward rolls his eyes and tosses the book back to the floor before grabbing me in a mock-wrestling hold. "How about I use your panties? Would that be less funny?"

We wrestle around on the bed and talk more about what gags won't make me laugh or… gag. Panties are gross, in my opinion, so we decide to do more research for other options. We're both pretty tired tonight, and we have plenty of time to figure it out later.

Edward and I also talk about our new ranch. Getting to play like this more often is just one more bonus to moving in together. I love Edward, and I love looking forward to our life together. He's my very favorite playmate and my very best friend.

Five Years Later

AN: I guess this is sort of an epilogue. It was written 18 months after the completion of the story. Moojuicey sent me picspiration and I started typing...

I didn't go out that night looking for anything more than dinner with a couple of my friends, but after five minutes of talking to Bella, I knew the night would hold much more than that. I knew I wanted her—she was sexy and smart and sweet.

What I didn't know was that she would end up being the love of my life. My body knew, though. Like the way it knows when it's time to get out of bed even if your alarm hasn't gone off, or how you get a little lightheaded if you go for a day hike without packing a lunch. And how, right now, five years later, looking at her in that vintage corset makes me want to slay a wild animal for dinner or breed or build a fucking house for her because… Damn.

"Bella, what do you say?" I ask in a tone of voice that gives absolutely no indication of the kind of primal urge I have to just fucking takeher right now. Nor does it indicate my hope that we won't re-enact the last time I told her to talk to me while we were playing – she called me Sir and then giggled hysterically for three straight minutes.

Bella likes being tied up and spanked. She likes to role-play like she's a pouty little girl and call me Daddy. She even begs me to say she's my dirty little slut every time I fuck her ass. All that being said, Bella and I don't fit into any kind of mold. I realized this one day about two years ago when I joined a BDSM website for couples – we just didn't fit in.

Tonight, she's wrapped in silk from head to toe – black blindfold, blood red corset and garters, sheer stockings, and a thin black rope binding her shins to her thighs.

She's reclined against a mountain of pillows at the head of our king size bed, framed by the gold bedding and down comforter she loves to burrow into every night. Her wrists are tied together over her head, suspended by more rope from the top frame of the canopy. She looks debauched and regal all at once – such a dichotomy, my Bella: elegance and depravity.


Her husky voice envelops me in the warmth that comes from the kind of pleasure she's feeling. We've been at it for almost an hour now, and her voice has grown heavy and sticky – tangible and almost its own character in our scene. The lusty quality of it reminds me of what she wants, what I want, and how good this feels to both of us.

Bella and I have always been experimental, and I know now that I've always been dominant, even before I knew her. At this point, we've tried almost everything there is to try, except bringing in other partners. When she asked me if I was interested in experimenting with a third person, I almost blew a fucking gasket. That was the day we agreed to fill out checklists, which taught us a lot about each other's boundaries and what we wanted from our sexual relationship.

"Please, what, baby?" I ask as I drag the flogger over her skin.

When we started earlier this evening, I bound her legs in a frogtie, which is simple to do but garners amazing results. She's immobilized and splayed open wide. I watch the falls of the flogger play around one knee then down to her foot. She bites her lip to stop from smiling too big or giggling.

I used to have to gag her to keep us in the moment. It's fun to gag her, because we have a joke about her being mouthy and that I like to shut her up, but I don't like having to gag her. At one point, I told her we should stop trying to play all together, since we didn't need it, like I'd read about on that website. I told her I just needed her—that I just wanted to be with her. But then she said playing was fun, even if we didn't need it, and she said, "Fuck the rules, Edward. It's just you and me, right? We don't need to follow anybody's rules but our own."

I continue to stroke her with the suede, up the inside of her thigh, lightly brushing between her legs, then down the other thigh. The flogger thrills her, I can tell, and I feel the goosebumps on my own skin as I watch them rise on hers. She says she loves the sensation of suede, as opposed to the leather and fur. She likes the heavy, clinging whisper of it over her skin.


She answers my question with a question and that worried little crease in the skin of her brow that makes me want to kiss her and hold her, tell her everything's going to be all right. The skin that makes me want to throw her down and fuck her till she chants my name.

"Always asking for it harder," I say. "Such a good girl. So polite." I keep my voice calm and quiet – even like the strokes of the flogger against her body. Bella whimpers when I bring it close to her pussy again.

"Harder like this?" I ask her as I flick my wrist then smack her between her legs with the suede. She gasps and her body jolts. She starts to twist at the waist to close her bound legs.

"No, no, baby," I tell her. I almost have to use a hand to stop her, but she's already opening back up on her own, relaxing into the pillows again, sighing.

She's mostly bare – no panties and just a thin strip of hair. I peel down the delicate cups that cover her pretty tits so that I can use the flogger on her there. I don't hit her hard, but I use a steady rhythm. She's biting her lip and I think she might make herself bleed like she's done before. I love how tight her nipples are, puckered and dark. Her skin is so pink everywhere else. She's breathing slow and deep through her nose. She's so ready.

Thwap… thwap… thwap...

"Let go," I whisper.

Sometimes she needs permission. She needs someone to tell her it's okay to be loud or excited, to enjoy something so fully. Even after so many years and so many experiences, after vows and affirmation and love and laughter, Bella still needs reassurance that she can trust me. And I love giving it to her.

"I'm right here, Bella." Two more strokes across her bare chest and she opens her mouth. "Let me hear you."

Her response is long and drawn out, breathy and guttural. So fucking beautiful. She really loves this flogger.

"Such a good girl," I say, slapping and swirling the suede over her stiff, dusky nipples, wanting to throw the flogger across the room and bury myself in that warm, vulnerable spot right where she wants it. That instinct that tells me to fuck fuck fuck her right now is the same feeling that is making her squirm and whine.

Fuck, she wants it.

"Tell me you're my good girl, Bella." I need to hear her say it.

"I'm your good girl," she answers, quick and clear.

She arches her back and bites her lip. She tries to roll her hips, too, but her position doesn't give her leverage for that, so she pouts a little, and I want to fuck that pout right off her face.

I almost laugh at her glowering response, but if I do, she might hear me and then this will all be over. I don't want to break the spell where she's my little fuck toy and I'm her Master, even if I'm barely keeping my shit together, and I'm barely a master of anything, let alone her. I think we all know Bella's the one in charge here. She always has been. She's everything.

I switch from using the flogger on her chest back to her thighs. I swipe over and around the silk rope as she writhes, wanting it back between her legs. I listen to it slapping and dragging, and I watch her body echo what I'm feeling.

Sometimes I can't breathe when I look at her because I forget how much I need her, and other times I'm just so stunned by what we mean and what we create together. Times like this, I'm reminded of our reality – she's mine, and I'm hers. She promised me forever in front of 87 of our closest friends and family members.

"That's right, you are a good girl," I answer. "And do you know what good girls get? They get everything they want."

I didn't wait for her to answer, because it was rhetorical and she knows it. I turn the flogger back between her legs and watch her go just a little bit crazier. She tries to spread her legs wider, and my dick gets harder.

"Tell me what you want," I say, and my vision narrows on her movements. Her body is warm and sweet, glistening from her heat and want. "Tell me. You know I'll give it to you."

"You," she whispers, hot and wet. She's on the verge of tears from wanting. "All I want is you."

Without a second thought, I drop the flogger to the floor and climb up next to her.

I watch her for seconds that feel like forever, her chest rising and falling, her jaw and fists clenching. She's to the point where she wants to be done playing. She wants me to hold her, kiss her, love her, fuck her. She wants what I want.

"Okay, baby," I answer, pulling my t-shirt over my head then cupping my cock through my pants. I kneel between her legs and reach for her feet and her ankles, caressing her gently. I run my other hand through my hair as I look at her, feeling the silk stockings and ties over her skin, hot and smooth. I think about what it feels like to be inside her as both of my hands move to loosen the rope that's held her bound for way too long tonight.

"I love you so much," I tell her. It's a given now, but I never want her to wonder. I always want her to know, and to believe, that I love her until the end of time.

"I love you, too." She sounds content and relieved. I don't know if her relief is due to the fact that I'm untying her or because I told her I loved her, but it doesn't matter – I made her feel that way. I gave her that relief. And I'm going to give it to her, forever.

Silk and silk and silk unravels. Bella sighs and stretches, slipping her feet outside my calves. Once I have her legs free of the rope, I unhook her stockings and slip them off, leaving them drooping over the side of the bed. Her wrists are still bound, and she's still blindfolded, but I reach up to loosen the slack enough for her to lie flat on her back. I sit on my haunches and look at her.

Jesus Christ, she's so fucking perfect.

One of the things that fascinates me about bondage, almost as much as Bella's reactions, is the marks on her skin after. The first time I untied her after practicing with rope, I was absolutely enthralled by the way her skin was marked and creased.

I was worried, of course, that it had hurt her, but when she told me she was fine and that she liked it, I let myself be more absorbed by what I was seeing. I ran my fingers over the ridges it made in her usually unblemished skin. The severity and reality of those indentations made me want to be with her, in her, so intensely.

My instinct to possess her is what drives this part of our relationship. And I want full access to all of her. Right now.

My feet slip toward the footboard. I splay my hands behind each of her knees, running my fingers over the pretty welts. I push her legs open as far as possible, kissing the rope-like notches encircling her dangling calves.

"Bella," I whisper and breathe over her tender skin, and she shivers. I pitch forward to settle on my elbows and lick the wet, warm space at the juncture of her wide-open thighs. "How do you feel, baby? Talk to me."

"So good, Edward." Her breath and her voice vibrate in the air around us. She breathes deep and strong. I glance up as I lick her and see that she's absently tugging at the ties around her wrists. I nip at her lips and inner thigh, and she yelps.

"Keep talking," I tell her. My hands travel from her knees, down her thighs, and I slip a finger inside her. Her feet fall flat to the mattress while I fuck her with my finger and kiss her clit light and soft. She bucks against my face and whines. She's so fucking wet, it's nothing at all for me to add two more fingers as I pull her clit between my lips.

"I want your cock," she mutters. "Everywhere. Right now."

She demands this a lot, saying that Supercock should be able to be everywhere at once, but since I actually only have one cock, I have to choose where I'm going to put it. I reluctantly stop licking her – because I never get sick of eating pussy – but just long enough to stand and get rid of my pants.

When I lay down, I position us in a 69, scooting my feet close to the headboard, so I don't have to untie Bella for her to reach my cock with her mouth. Then I flip us so she's on top.

"Grab the headboard, Bella." Her wrists are loose enough in their bindings that she's able to twist them and grip the headboard for balance. She does so quickly, and I feel her body relax over me, her knees on either side of my ribcage.

"There you go." I plant my feet at the headboard and thrust my hips, and my cock brushes her cheek. "Take me in your mouth."

"Oh, hi there," she whispers and lets out a satisfied little sigh before I feel her caressing tongue and her tight, slick lips. I thrust again out of instinct, up into her mouth and her throat.

Her hands are desperately gripping the headboard. Her back is bowed as she straddles my torso like a reverse cowgirl. I'm holding her knees to the mattress from behind as I fuck her throat. Even though she's on top of me, I'm in complete control.

"That's right, take it like a good little slut," I mutter, and she moans around my cock. I slip a few fingers inside her and watch her ride my hand and suck my cock. I wish I had set up our video camera, because Bella's going to be really sad she missed the sight of herself semi-suspended above me looking like my beautiful, dirty whore.

When I start to feel like I'm coming before I'm ready, I switch gears and sit up, pulling away from her mouth, leaving my dick bare and cold; her pussy is warm and wet on my fingers. I grin from ear to ear, gripping her hip and maneuvering her over my hand to get my fingers and thumb wetter and wetter. She whines and bucks her hips, and I chuckle. She tells me not to laugh at her, and by the time I have enough lubricant to do exactly what I want to her, she's gritting her teeth and swearing.

"Fuck!" she shouts and flips her hair, moving to look at me over her shoulder, but she's can't see me through the silk over her eyes. I slip my thumb into her ass and two fingers up to massage her clit.

"Come on, Bella," I pat her thigh and balance her over my lap. "Show me how good you can fuck my hand." My fingers manipulate her and my thumb slips a little deeper with each familiar rotation of her hips. This is one of my favorite things to do to her, and she loves it too. I love watching her let go like this, like some wild, bucking mare. It's just about the most breathtaking thing I've ever seen.

I rotate my hand, and my ring finger slips inside her pussy. I'm pretty sure it's the cool metal of my ring that finally pushes her over the edge. I settle my free hand on the small of her back and watch her explode.

I feel her ripple and hear her cry out, and her whole body shakes. I slowly pull my wet fingers out of her body and use both hands to move her off my lap, but keep her kneeling. I love her in this position, hands tied, gripping the headboard, on her fucking knees.

"Oh, Bella…" I situate myself behind her, on my own knees. "I'm not done yet."

I grasp her hips and straddle her thighs, pushing them together. Bella's always tight, but I like immobilizing her this way. I like dominating her. Taking her like this is better than tying her up, better than gagging her, better than spanking her.

"I'm gonna fuck you now, baby," I tell her as I hold her still with one hand and guide myself inside her with the other. "So hard. And you'll love it, won't you?"

"Yes," Bella nods her head and moans. "God…"

I deliver on my promise, fucking her slow and so hard we're both grunting with the thrusts. I unfasten her corset while I fuck her. I take it all the way off and discard it to the floor. She's completely bare to me now. I kiss her back, nip her shoulders, reach around to pinch and pull her pretty little nipples.

I grasp her hands at the headboard with my free hand. The silk of the rope around her wrists rubs against my forearm and sets me off. My other hand slips down her body, presses over her belly, and my fingers rest against her clit. Just that simple touch and Bella is coming within seconds. Her pulsing brings me with her.

We breathe and whisper terms of endearment, and I love her more with every second of my life that passes. I untie her, pull her into my arms, slip off her blindfold, and kiss her breathless.

"That was awesome," she sighs, settling beside me, curling into my chest.

"It was," I agree, as she scrapes her teeth over one of my nipples, licking. "Jesus, didn't you get enough?"

"You know I can never get enough of you."

She nuzzles into me, her fingers pressing into the skin over my heart. My hand finds its way to her chest and cups one of her breasts, squeezing and pinching.

"Now who can't get enough?" Her breathy, little voice taunts me as she grinds her hips. "Come on. I know you got some more in you, old man."

I roll her to her back and settle my hips between her legs. We're wet and sticky, and I feel as whole and loved as any man can feel. Bella brings her legs up around my hips, and I smile.

"Maybe just a little bit," I mutter into her neck and slide my hands into her hair.

We still have Kita and Angel, and we foster any dog or cat whenever he or she needs it. We have two horses, a llama with a traumatic brain injury, a family of foxes who just won't go away, and a mountain lion who lurks on the property thinking Angel is his homeboy or a nummy treat, I just can't decide.

Delia is here every Spring Break, Summer, and alternating Winter holidays. As soon as she starts middle school she will live with us full-time, which isn't soon enough for me or for Bella. I'd love to have kids of our own someday. Bella's apprehensive, though, and I will never push her, because what we have is perfect as it is. We do everything together, and if we don't both want it, then it just isn't right.

It really doesn't matter what else we have or what we do, as long as we have each other.

6. Malcolm

AN: This was originally written for FGB 2011 to battle children's cancer, and is dedicated to Wime09.

~seven years later~

"Oops," Bella says, when her hand slips on the edge of the hot tub as she lowers herself into the bubbling water. She's spilled a little red wine on herself, and I lick my lips as I watch the diluted liquid turn dark pink and slide over her collarbone down between her full breasts.

Bella and I haven't had sex in nine weeks. She had a long delivery with our son, Malcolm, which resulted in some tearing. She's also breastfeeding, so she hasn't been keen on drinking, either. Tonight, we're celebrating our first night alone, when Bella can have more than a sip of my Guinness and I might be able to give her an orgasm.

"I think the next child I bear will be Peter and Garrett's for watching Delia and Mal tonight," Bella says with a breathy sigh as the hot water and steam lovingly surround her smooth, wet skin, then she takes a small sip from her glass.

"You deserve this, baby," I say, being careful with my voice not to interrupt her calm. "Relax and savor it."

Her little black bikini is new. She complained about having to buy something when she realized her other suit didn't fit her. Then she kept covering up her little belly with her hands even after she found one that fit perfectly, but she's only nine weeks postpartum. I wish she didn't feel so uncomfortable with her new curves, because, to be honest, I am going to be so sad to see them go when she gets back to running and her regular workouts.

I've always loved Bella's body; she holds herself with a quiet confidence and grace that is unearthly in its sex appeal. What I feel when I'm near her—the intense draw to touch her, kiss her, taste her—is unique to her and her alone—and her newly rounded hips and thighs and plump breasts are driving me insane.

"I need to be careful how much I drink," she mutters and giggles lightly. "I'm glad I pumped enough for Mal, but I'm already feeling the alcohol and I've only had two sips."

Bella and I were… surprised with Mal. Bella was on the pill. We were still undecided in the baby-making category. Then Bella came down with a nasty case of strep in need of antibiotics, we miscalculated days and fertility, chose not to use a condom, and voila!: Mal.

"Set your glass aside for a few minutes and lay your head back, baby," I say. "Just feel the water."

She does as I suggest, and I watch her float as I sip my wine, enjoying the silence.

Delia lives with us full-time now, and while I am pleased to have her in my life, she is a typical pre-teen, who thinks she's an adult, and all her friends are battling each other for prima donna status. She's the best older sister for Mal, though. She loves having a baby brother to coo over and coddle and show off to her friends. It's adorable, but tonight is a long-overdue getaway from the chaos that is our life at times.

After a few minutes, I reach for Bella and she doesn't flinch or push me away. She smiles with her eyes closed.

My hand slides over her ankle, shin, and knee as I drift over to her side of the tub. I hang beside her in the sparkling heat and wet, letting everything other than us, and this moment dissipate in the mist until we have to go back to the real world in the morning.

She hums as her legs gently open with the light effervescent force of the jet currents. I try not to let my mind get ahead of me with images of her spread open, back arched, hair wild, legs bound, calling my name, because I have to take this slow. I try not to think about our first time together, when I had her on her hands and knees on a cold hard floor, her hair in my hands and her skin in my teeth—even though right now feels like a first time all over again with the nervousness and need and not knowing what to expect—because I have to take this slow.

"I love your hands," she whispers in that sweet, husky little voice of hers. I will never grow tired of hearing her voice, not even if all she ever says is that she loves my hands.

I can hear that her voice is softening, but I can also hear the edge in her that has yet to retract. The edge that's still reaching out for her baby boy, checking to see that he's sleeping soundly, not too hungry, that he's safe and warm. I can feel her relaxing, but she could tense up at any moment, so I don't say anything in return and I don't perform any sudden moves to change the way I'm using my hands; I simply feel the moment and keep steady.

My hand turns and roams her side with the backs of my fingers. I feel the curve of her hip and the contour of her waist, and I forget to hesitate before I turn my hand back again and lay it flat over her belly. Just when it occurs to me that she might feel self-conscious or pull away, just before I pull away myself so she won't feel pressured or awkward, she rests her hand on mine.

"Remember the night we met?" she asks, prompting me to open my eyes and focus on her body language because I realize I must've completely misread her tone. "I was so nervous, but I wanted you so much, and I just knew… I knew you'd be good to me."

She laces her fingers with mine and pulls my hand to her mouth, kisses my knuckles then slips one of my fingertips between her lips. She opens her eyes and looks at me, swirls her tongue around the tip of my finger. My ears start to buzz and I feel my body venture outside of my careful rationale to take things slow. Because, when it comes to Bella, things are never what they seem.

"I'll be good to you, baby," I agree. I lick my lips and shift my gaze to what she's doing with her mouth. For the first time in weeks, my erection is a welcome presence in Bella and my interaction. I don't have to feel guilty because she wants—and is ready for—what I want, and I'm going to love giving it to her.

I let her get my fingers wet a different way than the water was and enjoy the feeling of her mouth and tongue. When I start to relax into the moment, old habits emerge between us. I twist my hand and hook two fingers over her bottom teeth then pull her toward me. I drop my hands to her hips and kiss her mouth. She rests her hands on my shoulders and wraps her legs around my waist. I pull her bottom lip between my teeth and she moans.

"Wanna stay in or get out?" I ask, nuzzling her neck and jaw.

"I want you in," she whispers, grinding her hips against mine. "So we should probably get out."

Bella has a fear of sex in pools and hot tubs, which sort of sucks because I have a fantasy of having her this way. Yet, I respect her wishes, obviously.

"Okay." I pull away from her, smiling, seeing her smile back at me. "Come on. Grab your glass."

I take her hand in mine and wait for her to retrieve her wine, then we take the few short steps out of the hot tub, up to the slate patio. I grab our towels and wrap her up then quickly dry off and lead her inside the house.

We chose to stay at the condo in town because we haven't actually moved any baby stuff in here yet, so it feels a little like a vacation. Peter and Garrett are down on the ranch with Delia and Mal, so the transition was pretty seamless.

Bella sets her glass on a side table and unwraps herself enough to squeeze excess water from her hair with her towel. Her eyes follow me as I set my own glass down and move to the gas fireplace and start it up. When I turn back to her, she's curled up on the sofa, wrapped in a thermal blanket and sipping her wine again.

"Warm enough?" I ask, noticing her bikini in a pile on the floor next to the sofa, signaling that she's bare underneath the blanket.

She nods her head. I act on instinct, which is a thing that's been left dormant recently and that I think we've both missed, as I drop to my knees in front of where she's resting. I slowly peel the blanket away from her body, my eyes never leaving hers.

"Bella," I say. "I wanna use my fingers on you, baby. Do you want that?"

"Yes," she breathes, closes her eyes, and lets her head fall back against the sofa.

She lets me push the blanket all the way off of her, and her knees fall open, as she turns to lay flat on her back and burrow in the cushions. I sink one hand under her head, in her slightly dampened hair, lightly grasp one breast with my other hand, then envelop her other nipple with my lips. We both moan in delight.

Bella arches her back and digs her fingers into my hair, letting her other arm sprawl over her head. I tease and lick at her sensitive nipples then her neck and her earlobes as my hand wanders down between her breasts, over her belly, and, finally, between her legs.

We both moan, again.

"Fuck," she breathes, harsh and raspy. She bucks her hips. "Please…"

"There's my girl." I chuckle. "I love it when you beg. Tell me what you want, baby."

My fingers slide lightly over her clit as my mouth moves back to her nipples, carefully licking, kissing.

"This… this is…" She inhales deeply. "This is what I want."

"Is this all you want?" I ask, teasing her entrance with just the tip of two fingers then quickly pulling back and up over her clit again. I kiss the underside of her rounded breasts and pull my palm out from under her head, keeping my fingers wrapped around her neck, slip my thumb inside her mouth.

She's wet and writhing, and I'm working my mouth over her ribcage and her belly when she grabs my hand and pushes two of my fingers inside herself.

"I want it all," she says with a gasp.

"Everything?" I ask, taking her lead and sliding my fingers in and out, rubbing my thumb lightly over her clit. "Can I taste you?"

"Yes," she whimpers, touching my face and holding my hand.

I climb onto the couch with her, taking no time at all to settle between her thighs, one of my favorite fucking places in the world, the place I have missed so fucking much.


I kiss her delicately, right where her thigh meets her pussy, that sensitive skin that she waxes bare. I stroke her, kiss her again, touch her with my tongue, feel her move under and around me, listen to her moan.

"I love you," I whisper, loud enough for her to hear. She tells me she loves me too, and I push forward a little further to rest her knees over my shoulders then open her up to me completely.

I lick her long and slow, smooth my thumb along the side of her clit, slip two fingers inside her again, and twist. Then I bring my eyes up just in time to watch her come apart.

"I'm gonna fuck you, now, baby," I say, rising to my knees between her legs, massaging her skin, holding her thighs apart with my hands just behind her knees.

Thankfully, Supercock isn't negatively affected by my 42 years, or the fact that my wife just had a baby. He is willing and ready to go.

I slip inside her for the first time in more than two months and we let out a collective sigh at the sensation of being reconnected. I slowly arch over her, our foreheads touching. I don't thrust; I don't even move. I just hold her close and appreciate the feeling of being with her like this again.

Bella's knees slip from my grip when she wraps her legs around my back, crossing her ankles, and thrusts her hips upward. I slowly collapse onto her, my hands landing on either side of her head against the armrest of the sofa. I feel her squeeze and rotate her hips and think about a snippet of a conversation I heard with her and Alice about Kegel exercises, and I try not to lose myself in her too quickly.

She's already come once, but tonight isn't only about orgasms—I need to be with her. We need to be together.

"Hold on, baby," I whisper and brush my lips across her jaw, grip her hips to slow her down.

I shift my weight to get better leverage on the sloppy cushions of our sofa and change my angle. I kiss her again and her feet slip from my back and fall to the sofa.

She throws her arms over her head and lets me take over.

I hold on tight to her hands and the armrest and fuck her slow and hard, spiraling my hips to hit her in all the right spots, rubbing her insides just the way she likes, reacquainting myself with every bit of her. She meets me thrust for thrust and shows me some tricks of her own.

"Fuck me," she whispers. "God, I love you so much… You're… everything."

"Yes," I whisper back, not caring about being quiet, but just wanting to be close to her and intimate and out of breath. "Love you… so much, baby."

Bella's fingers grip my hands hard and she presses her forehead harder into my shoulder. I can feel the familiar tremor inside her—the frantic rhythm of her hips, the vibration in her body, and her shaky gasps. She's going to come again and so am I.

"Come on, Bella," I breathe into her ear. "I can feel you. Give it to me."

I'm sliding in and out of her as she comes. Her whole body arches up under me and her skin against mine makes me lose my mind. I bury my head in the crook of her neck and shout, slamming into her and kissing her throat.

"What do you think Mal wants for his first Christmas?" she asks me as we cuddle on the couch, watching the fire, her back against my chest.

After getting to know each other's body parts again, in new, exciting ways, we partook in some bread pudding that Garrett baked earlier in the week. Bread pudding is Bella's new favorite dessert.

"Haven't we already bought his Christmas presents?" I ask instead of answer her ridiculous question, because we have already bought his Christmas presents.

However, if I know Bella, she won't be done buying presents for anyone until Christmas Eve, and then she'll be kicking herself for forgetting something that they really wanted.

I love my wife.

"Well, yeah," she says, scoffing. "But he's an infant, Edward."

She says this like it's an explanation, and I guess it is, in a way, but it doesn't matter how much it explains, rationally, because what it definitely does is shows her heart. She wants to give him the best childhood any child could have with toys and playtime and as little worry and fear as possible.

"You're right, baby," I tell her, kissing her temple. "But if he inherits my luck, and finds the best toy ever—the best friend and lover ever—his childhood toys will look like chopped liver."

Bella giggles, and squirms, and rolls into me, burrowing her knee between mine and burying her face in my neck. She nips at my skin, licks the spots where she's bitten me.

"We're both lucky," she whispers, finally kissing me flat on my chest.

I won't argue with her about who's the lucky one. I'll just love her and cherish her and thank God that she loves me back.

Thank you to MsKathy, Moojuicey, Wime09, SadtomatoFF, Einfach_mich, and Chele681 for their love and support throught the RME years and beyond. xox