Chapter FortyMature

I am only posting a little over 1/6th of this whole chapter here because the rest is inappropriate outside of a smut book and I am uncomfortable having written it to begin with, haha.


Edward's feeling was minimal, at best, every sensory perception seeming weighed down, slow. It felt as if a palpable fog had settled around him. He knew where he was, of course, and whom he was with. He was aware of everything that happened, he just found himself helpless in his own body unless he threw a massive fight. And what was worse, whomever it was taking advantage of his body was entirely silent. Not a single whisper of a thought or a self-aware image. Nothing. He tried storing up energy, hoping that if he went without a fight for long enough, he could have saved enough of his stamina to fight it out for a while; maybe even win control back, but it didn't seem to be stocking up at all.

While he felt like he was failing at getting himself out of this, it certainly didn't seem as if Bella had been slacking off on her end; quite the opposite. Perhaps they had a chance to overcome this… issue.

His breath stuttered in his throat every time her lips contacted his skin. Her touch was scalding, dozens of degrees higher than his own, and he felt the remaining warmth long after her skin had left. He could feel some of the tiny shifts of her hand; he savored the caresses as he was allowed to. The mist started fading from the center of his vision, he darted his eyes around the room frantically. Peaceful orange early-morning light was leaking across the hardwood floors and covering the white walls with a heart-clenching glow. It shone in her hair, bringing out deeper, fierier honey colors in her hair; it curled around the contours of her face, making her seem more unreal than she did on her own. Sunspots interrupted his vision when she leaned back and studied his face; she was scanning his eyes the way she had been doing every few seconds. She was searching for him. The sunspots did brilliant things to her silhouette, Edward decided, he could see her long lashes as a dark, thin, elegant line against the gleaming orange and yellow light. Her lips had a faint sheen of moisture on them and she parted them somewhat. He lifted his eyes from her mouth to her gaze and swallowed. She studied his eyes carefully, wondering if the warm lighting was playing a trick on her vision.

Were his eyes gold or was it just the sunrise?

"Edward?" The mistrustful whisper reached and wrapped long, snarly tentacles callously around his heart and squeezed. Edward choked on a lungful of air at the fulminant pain. She sounded so hopeless.

He attempted to open his mouth to respond but nothing came out; he wasn't even sure he'd successfully opened his mouth at all. He tried to get his vocal chords to vibrate meekly in his throat; a hum, a buzz, a growl. Anything would do. Edward had never in his life been terrified of silence, aside from this situation.

Her hope was faltering, he could see it in her eyes and in a desperate attempt to encourage her, Edward's hands flew up and clasped her face. Her eyes snapped up to his and she stared long and hard into them. Hear me, Bella. God, please hear me. Something locked inside of her and Bella's eyes became determined as Edward watched. She stood from her spot on the floor and moved her legs around his until she was nearly straddling him. Edward froze, halfway through swallowing, and waited; he followed her meticulously with his gaze. She moved like liquid, a lithe gracefulness untouched by the location or situation. She'd never been a graceful human but clearly vampire suited her. Everything she did appeared natural, easy and fluid and comfortable. Her fingers were on each of his cheekbones, her brown eyes scanning his thoughtfully. She lowered herself down onto him and he felt his back press against the cushion of the couch. He wanted to reach out and touch her; run his fingers through one of her soft curls, dance his index finger down her throat and collar bone, curve his palm against her hip and hold her closely against him. The igneous feel of her skin flat against his palm told him more than his consciousness did. He'd moved his hand of his own will. He was running the backs of his fingers down the side of her stomach as he realized it.

She felt like fire on his skin.

He adjusted himself so he could look up into her eyes and found the action was simple, he hadn't needed to fight. He was gaining some granule of control. Thoughts were racing through his head. If there was a chance he would come out of this on his own, he couldn't have her go through with it. He shouldn't have her go through with it even if he didn't have a chance on his own. Inwardly, his bitterness was slicing through him with cutting reminders of his inadequacy and undeserving status. She'd leaned down was placing a teasing kiss on his bottom lip. He felt a tiny whimper escape his throat and wondered if she'd noticed. If she did, she made no sign of it. Or maybe she didn't want to interrupt progress, he figured.

Her hands fell from his face as he turned his head to gain access to her mouth with his; he felt her fingertips graze his chest as they slipped away. His lips parted and she felt the tip of his tongue glide along her upper lip; she complied and suddenly his tongue invaded her mouth. He explored everything hungrily, slipping along and twining with her tongue. The rush of memory nearly knocked her off of him. The overheated emotions of a seventeen year old girl in love jetted through her body. The electrical charges their bodies had always had were humming to life somewhere deep in their bones.

Something sparked to life in the back of her mind and she was returning the urgency of his kisses with her own. Her hands shook as they lifted and settled onto his chest. She needed to feel him, to rest her flushed body against his cool chest and feel him breathing. The need was so unflinching that she had trouble unbuttoning his shirt between her clumsy fingers. His hands slid up between hers and gripped the sides of most recent button she'd failed to conquer. He gave a rough yank and the last two buttons shot from the shirt and it fell around his shoulders. She had to see. Detaching her mouth from his mouth, she pulled back and let her eyes roam the broad scopes of his chest. Her quivering fingers started at his collarbone and slipped downward, slithering attentively along the defined lines of his torso. His shirt was red and it sat against his pale flesh in a brilliant show of confident wreckage. She moved it down his arms with her palms, feeling the slick muscles of his shoulders and biceps as she moved. Her mouth collided between his shoulder and neck, moving gently but swiftly as she nibbled her way over the ball of his shoulder. His groan vibrated throughout his chest and she reveled in the noise. As soon as Edward realized he'd made a deliberate, conscious noise, he snapped out of the trance her touches had him in. His arms shot up and he gripped her shoulders as he held her at a distance.

He searched her eyes frantically. She couldn't possibly want to do this, not willingly and without necessity. He knew it, it had to be true. His voice didn't shake when he spoke, despite the churning in his guts. "Bella, don't do this."
She huffed at him, the force of the air exiting her pink lips making some of her hair puff up quickly. "Edward, really now." She frowned at him and opened her mouth to say 'What choice do we have?' But something had changed. His eyes were black again and he was looking at her as if she were a curious piece of art.

"Goddammit!" She yelled at him, "Edward, if you interrupt the success of this one more time, I swear I will make it work just so I can beat the daylights out of you." She scowled at his blank face.

Bella shut her eyes, took a few steadying breaths, and started over.

The End

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