A/N: So… another story. This one is different for me. Fair warning: it will earn its angst label.
**PLEASE READ** - This story will deal with some sensitive subject matter and might be hard for some people to read. Nothing involving sexual assault or any kind of abuse. I'm just putting the warning out there.
This Bella and Edward are far from perfect. You might hate one or both of them at times, and that's okay. If you find you're disliking the story, you can just close that little box and walk away. No hard feelings.
SM owns all things Twilight. Everything else is mine, including any mistakes.
Chapter 1 - Harsh
I groan as I see a boomer coming at me. These fuckers are hard to kill and could one-shot me, but that's not the reason behind the groan. The feel of soft lips around my dick and perfect suction make the sound rip from my throat.
Goddamn, she's good at this.
I work my thumbs double-time on the buttons, making my character duck and roll to avoid the green shit spewing out of the zombie's mouth. Maneuvering behind him, I shoot three virtual bullets into his back and do an internal fist pump.
Bella pulls me deep into the back of her throat all of a sudden just as a jockey jumps on my back and starts cackling.
It's damn hard to stay alive when my eyes have rolled into the back of my head.
Bella's fully aware of this. She's not concerned about my character's life-span at all. This is her game. She sucks me off while I play, and I have to stay alive or she'll stop.
Bella also gets to pick the game I play, and dammit, she almost always picks Left For Dead.
There's no downtime. The zombies are relentless in their attack.
Her little fingers begin to massage my balls while she licks and sucks and scrapes, and it's all I can do to even keep my eyes on the TV, much less actually play. I want to watch what she's doing to me, see my dick sliding in and out of her hot mouth.
"Tank incoming!" I hear through my headset.
There's no way I'm going to survive this, but I want to come in my girl's mouth so fucking bad.
My hands shake around the controller as Bella's hands work in tandem with her mouth—one wrapped around the base of my cock, squeezing, the other rolling my balls and sometimes stroking just behind them. She knows exactly how I like it.
Fuck, I want to touch her hair, her face, her tits... anything.
I'm getting close, so I move my character into a corner but keep hitting buttons and cursing every now and then so she'll think I'm still playing.
Bella tongues my slit, then runs the tip of her tongue around the rim of my head, then engulfs me once again, and I'm a goner.
I throw my controller down and sink my fingers into her silky hair just as my hips buck and four long spurts go down her throat.
Panting, I flop back on my bed to catch my breath.
"You fucking cheater."
"Huh?" My higher brain function has gone bye-bye.
"You faked it."
"Baby, did you not just swallow that shit? How could I fake it?"
"Not that." She slaps me on the knee. "You faked playing so I wouldn't stop. You, Edward Cullen, are a big, fat cheating cheater who cheats."
Oh, damn. Bitch-brow in full effect. I put my hand over my heart. "I swear I'll never do it again. You were just so fucking good."
She smirks. Yeah, she knows she's good. "Uh-huh. See if we ever play that game again."
"Aww, baby. C'mere. Let me make it up to you." I pull her close and bury my face in her neck, inhaling her sweet scent and sucking at her soft skin.
I'm jolted from the memory when Mike asks me what the fuck's wrong with me. He's holding my copy of Left For Dead out to me. I forgot I let him borrow it a few weeks ago.
I rub my chest with the heel of my hand to try to soothe the ache there. "Uh... nothing. Thanks, man."
"Yep. Thanks for letting me borrow it. It's kind of addicting. Those fucking boomers, man." He chuckles, and I just want him to go away.
"Yeah. You getting the beer for the party?"
"Oh. Uh, yeah. I'm about to go pick it up now. Do I have your money?"
"Jas owes me. He'll cover my part."
"Okay, dude. Later.
Nodding, I turn and go back into my room. Jasper doesn't owe me anything. I just don't have any money for beer, and he can't remember shit, which works in my favor.
I look at the cover of Left For Dead as I walk over to my entertainment center. Lifting up one stack of games, I slide it underneath and then cover it like that's going to erase the memory or something.
Not that I necessarily want to do that. It's a fucking fantastic memory to have. It's just hard to think about right now. I'd fallen asleep before I could make it up to Bella that night—one of my many failures as her boyfriend.
And that's why I'm her ex, I guess. Or part of it, at least.
Such a harsh little syllable...
Thank you so much for reading! Huge thanks to my pre-readers/betas: Twilly, lellabeth, twilightladies, and LyricalKris! Love you ladies.