It was definitely better than it was supposed to be the first time. Dawn silently congratulated herself (and Edward, who was almost certainly listening in), although it wasn't like she'd done anything in particular to achieve it. Just got lucky. Very lucky.
She also filed away the knowledge that he could read her mind in intimate moments. Right up there with the nervous breakdown and end of the world. But that was something to think about later, when she wasn't bent over a sink at the Bronze, wearing nothing but four-inch pumps and bruises on her hips and thighs. She wondered what they looked like from the side. Hell, she almost wanted someone to walk in on them, just to see their reaction.
Licking her lips, she held Edward's eyes in the mirror, her hand pushing his to move a little bit faster, to pick up the pace of friction. Her heart accelerated, her breaths coming faster, and she broke off the eye contact, closing her eyes and throwing back her head, crying out softly. Her other hand moved to find a better support position, landing on the mirror and leaving a tiny, smeared handprint next to their faces.
Edward was listening. And he moaned and bit his lip. The combination of feeling that knocking around in Dawn's head and feeling her, how her curves felt, how her muscles moved against him, how she reacted, how she...
He squeezed his eyes shut and shuddered again. Dawn's thoughts about wanting someone to walk in were going to push him over the edge--hard. Not just push. Shove. Shove over onto upended nails.
Dawn's heartbeat was running riot. The sounds she was making, the way she was moving his hand... Edward felt her head fall back onto his shoulder, hair sliding over bare skin, and he opened his eyes and kissed her neck, over and over. "C'mon," he whispered, half to himself, half to her.
Let's give them a show, Dawn thought, a smile curving her red-bitten lips as she watched Edward close his eyes in the mirror. She could barely compose a coherent thought, except it was really fun to watch Edward's reaction and push, push harder.
She licked her lips again. Her mouth felt dry, although her skin was damp, a drop of sweat making a trail between her breasts. It felt so hot in the room, and Edward's skin was so cold... she wanted to sink into him. Like into an ice bath. Only she knew she wasn't going to get any cooler.
Her tangled, mad curls tumbled over Edward's shoulder and her own and she shivered from the feel of his lips on her neck. His hands warmed slightly from the heat radiating off of her body, and the sensation of him in her, all around her, was sending little shocks of feeling through her nervous system. A heavy sort of pressure was building in her lower belly. Her free hand, the one she was propping herself up with, reached back for him, tangling itself in his hair. There was a tiny hand-shaped print on the mirror, which faded slowly. Dawn closed her eyes, focusing on that building pressure, feeling it rise slowly throughout her body.
Hanging by your thumbs off of the proverbial rack had to have a better outcome than this.
Edward was trying to push her over first. He was biting down on his lip, trying not to let Dawn's thoughts and how incredible she felt make him go over the edge before she did. He so wanted the satisfaction of watching her lose every shred of composure, every trace of control, from a safe distance.
It wasn't going to happen like that.
Just the suggestion, the thought of people walking in on them, of Dawn not caring... that did it. Her hand brushed back over his hair and Edward was already gone.
His head dropped forward and his eyes squeezed shut like he was in agony--but he was feeling the opposite. A ragged moan turned into a half-yell, which turned into a laugh that was probably more than a little disconcerting, and he pulled Dawn back onto him harder. This would leave bruises.
Dawn was going to be a walking bruise. Oh, that was funny. His eyes opened and Edward felt like someone had blurred his edges, like everything he saw and felt and knew was under a thick glaze of glee. His body almost shook from the force of the feeling.
The satisfaction was hers. Well, in a manner of speaking. A lazy smile on her lips, she watched him in the mirror, watched his head fall forward and his eyes close, felt his body shudder against her. It was a strange sensation, kind of like feeling a boulder tremble because of an earthquake. She laughed softly, and it turned into a soft moan.
She didn't mind his fingers digging into her hips, making new marks on her skin, because the pressure in her body was rising, spreading, urged on by Edward's reaction. It was her turn, and she was so close she could almost taste it. Her fingers gently stroked his hand, her other hand toying with his hair.
"I'm pretty sure Jesus Christ had nothing to do with this," she murmured with a little flick of her hips, her half-lidded eyes watching him carefully in the mirror.
He didn't think that things could be louder. Being turned made the senses heighten enough. But Edward could swear that right now, things were louder.
Like that moan. Like her mocking him.
Edward narrowed his eyes and pulled her head back, hard, by the hair. Dawn rolled her hips and he bit his lip, which admittedly ruined the threat. "I know that," he half-whispered, half-growled.
He wanted her over the edge, too. Right now, he sort of hated Dawn. He was determined, now. She was going over, and she was going over hard.
Edward moved his hand against her, painfully slowly, and a completely devilish expression took over. He thought of how she'd react if he moved his mouth where his fingers were. But if he did that... Dawn would probably end up dead. Teeth grazed her neck, tongue between them, and he thought about biting down again. He could taste her pulse now. Feel it.
And he was willing to bet, knowing Dawn as he did, the threat of ending her life, the act of biting her, would bring her screaming over to his side of things.
Edward pulled on her hair, and she let her head fall back, closing her eyes, and laughed. That felt good. Why had she never done anything like it before? What had she been thinking, holding out for some sort of hero? There were no heroes. No one to save yourself for, and no one to save you.
"Carpe diem," she murmured, and gasped, grinding her hips into his hand. The low, heady pressure was spreading, and she could feel her pulse in her very skin, radiating from her center into her limbs, everywhere. She'd never felt so alive, which was kind of ironic, considering she was with someone who wasn't alive at all, and hadn't been in a long time.
She felt his teeth on her neck, and dug her nails into the back of his hand. She was so close, it was almost frustrating. Not that she wasn't enjoying the journey, but she was ready for it to come to an end.
"Carpe diluculo*," he whispered, maybe too quietly for her to hear. Didn't matter. Edward knew what he'd said. It was funny. He smirked, lips moving against her neck.
And my GOD, did not being able to get sexual satisfaction go with being the Key? Because if so, Edward thought Dawn should ask someone for her money back. This whole thing seemed like it sucked.
Without a warning, he bit down. Just a little bite. He'd bite harder if she kept this up. Not hard enough to draw blood, just hard enough to make her remember what it had been like when he did.
Dawn was dark enough for that to do it for her. As it was, there was a twinge of pleasure at the memory that shot down Edward's spine. He didn't even feel her fingernails.
As Edward's teeth closed around the tender skin of her neck, Dawn's muscles clenched, making her shiver involuntarily. She cried out, the sound somewhere between a ragged scream and a moan, loud enough to be overheard even over the rising swell of music from the club's floor. Not that she'd care. Let them be jealous.
The bite brought up a memory of his teeth breaking the skin, him tasting her, and that pushed her over the edge. She was falling, tumbling down into swirling darkness, her muscles convulsing. It was hot, the feeling of being so helpless, somehow, out of control, and that was wrong, and even hotter because it was wrong. Her nails scrabbled against his hand, and would've drawn blood from someone whose skin didn't have the consistency of pale, hard marble.
Her other hand fisted in his hair, pulling, but not with enough pressure to pull his mouth away from her neck.
In a sick, thoroughly twisted way, she wished he'd do it again.
She closed her eyes as the sensation spread through her body, rippling with such force that she thought she'd fall to her knees if Edward wasn't supporting her, his cold body behind hers. She bit on her lip, nearly tasting blood, and cried out again, this time a low, ragged moan between her teeth. It seemed like ages before it stopped, but it was only seconds.
"Carpe noctem," she replied, softly, her eyes still closed.
He watched Dawn's face with fascination--the fascination of watching a building fall at the mercy of a wrecking ball. You knew it was coming, you knew how, you just needed to know when.
And how hard the fall was gonna be.
Edward grinned into Dawn's neck. Her mind was still open but no thoughts came because she simply could not form them. All there was was a bright white flash of powerful sensation, and it obliterated everything else. He almost said 'good girl,' aloud, and bit the words back.
He chuckled, quietly, and hid his face behind her shoulder. In the mirror, all that could be seen were his eyes.
Carpe noctem.
"I think we did," he said. Very, very slowly he drew himself out of her, hanging onto her around the waist. Oddly, he didn't feel like letting her fall on the floor in a heap. Mostly he wondered if this would ever happen again.
He thought so. Why ruin the chance?
But this? Over now. "Funny," he said, smiling a cruel smile. "That didn't feel like a lie."
For the time being, Dawn was grateful for Edward's arm around her. As much as she'd like to saunter away and slowly pull her red lace lingerie back on, the fact was that her muscles were in no functioning order at the moment. Just as well.
She turned around within the circle of his arms, sliding her own arms around his shoulders, resting her ass against the sink. Leisurely, sensually, she leaned forward and kissed Edward on the mouth, feeling completely satisfied with herself.
"Why would I lie?" she asked innocently, pulling away, her half-lidded blue eyes watching him with a spark of careless amusement. It was all in good fun, after all, and they didn't need to take anything seriously. "So not worth the effort." One eyebrow went up, and she smiled, her mouth slightly crooked.
She also filed away the knowledge that he could read her mind in intimate moments. Right up there with the nervous breakdown and end of the world. But that was something to think about later, when she wasn't bent over a sink at the Bronze, wearing nothing but four-inch pumps and bruises on her hips and thighs. She wondered what they looked like from the side. Hell, she almost wanted someone to walk in on them, just to see their reaction.
Licking her lips, she held Edward's eyes in the mirror, her hand pushing his to move a little bit faster, to pick up the pace of friction. Her heart accelerated, her breaths coming faster, and she broke off the eye contact, closing her eyes and throwing back her head, crying out softly. Her other hand moved to find a better support position, landing on the mirror and leaving a tiny, smeared handprint next to their faces.
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He squeezed his eyes shut and shuddered again. Dawn's thoughts about wanting someone to walk in were going to push him over the edge--hard. Not just push. Shove. Shove over onto upended nails.
Dawn's heartbeat was running riot. The sounds she was making, the way she was moving his hand... Edward felt her head fall back onto his shoulder, hair sliding over bare skin, and he opened his eyes and kissed her neck, over and over. "C'mon," he whispered, half to himself, half to her.
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She licked her lips again. Her mouth felt dry, although her skin was damp, a drop of sweat making a trail between her breasts. It felt so hot in the room, and Edward's skin was so cold... she wanted to sink into him. Like into an ice bath. Only she knew she wasn't going to get any cooler.
Her tangled, mad curls tumbled over Edward's shoulder and her own and she shivered from the feel of his lips on her neck. His hands warmed slightly from the heat radiating off of her body, and the sensation of him in her, all around her, was sending little shocks of feeling through her nervous system. A heavy sort of pressure was building in her lower belly. Her free hand, the one she was propping herself up with, reached back for him, tangling itself in his hair. There was a tiny hand-shaped print on the mirror, which faded slowly. Dawn closed her eyes, focusing on that building pressure, feeling it rise slowly throughout her body.
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Edward was trying to push her over first. He was biting down on his lip, trying not to let Dawn's thoughts and how incredible she felt make him go over the edge before she did. He so wanted the satisfaction of watching her lose every shred of composure, every trace of control, from a safe distance.
It wasn't going to happen like that.
Just the suggestion, the thought of people walking in on them, of Dawn not caring... that did it. Her hand brushed back over his hair and Edward was already gone.
His head dropped forward and his eyes squeezed shut like he was in agony--but he was feeling the opposite. A ragged moan turned into a half-yell, which turned into a laugh that was probably more than a little disconcerting, and he pulled Dawn back onto him harder. This would leave bruises.
Dawn was going to be a walking bruise.
Oh, that was funny.
His eyes opened and Edward felt like someone had blurred his edges, like everything he saw and felt and knew was under a thick glaze of glee. His body almost shook from the force of the feeling.
"Jesus fucking Christ," he breathed.
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She didn't mind his fingers digging into her hips, making new marks on her skin, because the pressure in her body was rising, spreading, urged on by Edward's reaction. It was her turn, and she was so close she could almost taste it. Her fingers gently stroked his hand, her other hand toying with his hair.
"I'm pretty sure Jesus Christ had nothing to do with this," she murmured with a little flick of her hips, her half-lidded eyes watching him carefully in the mirror.
They weren't done here.
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Like that moan. Like her mocking him.
Edward narrowed his eyes and pulled her head back, hard, by the hair. Dawn rolled her hips and he bit his lip, which admittedly ruined the threat. "I know that," he half-whispered, half-growled.
He wanted her over the edge, too. Right now, he sort of hated Dawn. He was determined, now. She was going over, and she was going over hard.
Edward moved his hand against her, painfully slowly, and a completely devilish expression took over. He thought of how she'd react if he moved his mouth where his fingers were. But if he did that... Dawn would probably end up dead. Teeth grazed her neck, tongue between them, and he thought about biting down again. He could taste her pulse now. Feel it.
And he was willing to bet, knowing Dawn as he did, the threat of ending her life, the act of biting her, would bring her screaming over to his side of things.
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"Carpe diem," she murmured, and gasped, grinding her hips into his hand. The low, heady pressure was spreading, and she could feel her pulse in her very skin, radiating from her center into her limbs, everywhere. She'd never felt so alive, which was kind of ironic, considering she was with someone who wasn't alive at all, and hadn't been in a long time.
She felt his teeth on her neck, and dug her nails into the back of his hand. She was so close, it was almost frustrating. Not that she wasn't enjoying the journey, but she was ready for it to come to an end.
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And my GOD, did not being able to get sexual satisfaction go with being the Key? Because if so, Edward thought Dawn should ask someone for her money back. This whole thing seemed like it sucked.
Without a warning, he bit down. Just a little bite. He'd bite harder if she kept this up. Not hard enough to draw blood, just hard enough to make her remember what it had been like when he did.
Dawn was dark enough for that to do it for her. As it was, there was a twinge of pleasure at the memory that shot down Edward's spine. He didn't even feel her fingernails.
______________________
*'Seize the dawn.'
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The bite brought up a memory of his teeth breaking the skin, him tasting her, and that pushed her over the edge. She was falling, tumbling down into swirling darkness, her muscles convulsing. It was hot, the feeling of being so helpless, somehow, out of control, and that was wrong, and even hotter because it was wrong. Her nails scrabbled against his hand, and would've drawn blood from someone whose skin didn't have the consistency of pale, hard marble.
Her other hand fisted in his hair, pulling, but not with enough pressure to pull his mouth away from her neck.
In a sick, thoroughly twisted way, she wished he'd do it again.
She closed her eyes as the sensation spread through her body, rippling with such force that she thought she'd fall to her knees if Edward wasn't supporting her, his cold body behind hers. She bit on her lip, nearly tasting blood, and cried out again, this time a low, ragged moan between her teeth. It seemed like ages before it stopped, but it was only seconds.
"Carpe noctem," she replied, softly, her eyes still closed.
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And how hard the fall was gonna be.
Edward grinned into Dawn's neck. Her mind was still open but no thoughts came because she simply could not form them. All there was was a bright white flash of powerful sensation, and it obliterated everything else. He almost said 'good girl,' aloud, and bit the words back.
He chuckled, quietly, and hid his face behind her shoulder. In the mirror, all that could be seen were his eyes.
Carpe noctem.
"I think we did," he said. Very, very slowly he drew himself out of her, hanging onto her around the waist. Oddly, he didn't feel like letting her fall on the floor in a heap. Mostly he wondered if this would ever happen again.
He thought so.
Why ruin the chance?
But this? Over now. "Funny," he said, smiling a cruel smile. "That didn't feel like a lie."
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She turned around within the circle of his arms, sliding her own arms around his shoulders, resting her ass against the sink. Leisurely, sensually, she leaned forward and kissed Edward on the mouth, feeling completely satisfied with herself.
"Why would I lie?" she asked innocently, pulling away, her half-lidded blue eyes watching him with a spark of careless amusement. It was all in good fun, after all, and they didn't need to take anything seriously. "So not worth the effort." One eyebrow went up, and she smiled, her mouth slightly crooked.
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