Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
A/N: GUISE, it's Lellabeth's birthday today! She's one of nicest people you'll meet and I love her so very much! This is written for her, and I hope she loves! This mini-fic is pre-read by EveryDayBella and beta'd by GeekChic12. *squishes* If you know them, you know what I mean when I say these peeps are fuckawesome.
I place wet, languid kisses down her neck as I toy with her nipple. It's so smooth under my fingers. I kiss my way down to her breasts and tug one into mouth. Her surprised gasp assures me I'm doing things right. It's warmer than I thought and so soft under my tongue. She lets out a breathy moan.
She's so fucking sexy. How did I end up with her again?
I switch to the other one, and she buries her fingers in my hair, my messy, porcupine hair that my mom's always telling me to cut.
Ugh, why am I thinking about my mom when I'm having sex with a beautiful woman?
Wait, I'm having sex?
I look down, and sure enough, she's bouncing on my dick. Well, not bouncing, but a slower version of it. A sexier version. She clearly knows what she's doing, the way she's moving on my dick, slow and torturous. She's so tight and—oh my Lord—warm. Her warmth...it's everywhere, spreading through my body, licking it from the inside out.
What the fuck?
I shoot up straight in my bed, my heart pounding. Oh, it was just a dream. I sigh in relief. Stretching awkwardly, I push the purple covers off me and head to the bathroom.
I don't have purple sheets.
I glance beside me to see her lying there, cuddled up in the purple blanket that's not mine. I shriek before clamping a hand over my mouth. I don't trust it right now. I don't even know what her name is, and I had sex with her. Did I have sex with her? I look down to see nothing but skin. Guess that answers my question. I back up until my heel comes painfully in contact with a corner. Right, this is not my house. I'm in a house with a stranger, a beautiful stranger, with whom I had sex.
What should I do now?
I can hardly stay. People don't do that after one-night stands, but it'd be mean if I just left. I can't cook her anything because then she'd wake up, and it'll be awkward.
Stop it, Edward. Just leave, my conscience speaks up. For once, I think it might be right. But I have to find my clothes first.
I spend about twelve minutes locating all my clothes—they're everywhere—but thankfully the brown-haired goddess doesn't wake. Actually, she snores through the entire thing, but it's a cute little snore that makes me want to pet her hair or something equally as creepy. I stealthily slip out of her bedroom and tip-toe across her living room to find some stationary. Once I find a sticky pad and a pen, I scribble out a note saying 'thank you'. It's a bit on the a-hole side, but I don't know what else to write, so I just stick it on the fridge and leave.
A/N: As you can guess, this is a bit out of comfort-zone, but I'm determined to give Lella an angst-free, fluffy fic. ;-) So... how you likin' this 'ward?
(To my HMLFH readers: I'm working on the next chapter as we speak. It's a bit... draining.)