“Is this how it's going to be between us?” I asked against his jaw, my hands working frantically to rid him of his buttoned shirt. “A game? Who can make who cum first?”
“See, that's your problem,” he panted, grabbing the hem of my shirt out of my pants and whipping it over my head, taking one of my earrings off with it. “You think of your body as a means to an end.”
“No I don't!” I argued, taking his earlobe into my mouth.
“Ugh... yes you do. That's been your MO for years.”
“Explain,” I demanded on a moan, the heady sound inspired by his warm hands, running up my ribcage, heading toward my swollen, lace-covered breasts.
“There's no feelings,” he growled, bending me back slightly so he could get a better view of my body. “God, Bella. What are you wearing?”
His lips found my collar bone on a sigh, his teeth teasing, his lips tasting as his hands roamed the white teddy. I could feel the warmth of his skin through the miniscule lace, and a huge part of me wished I'd just gone bare beneath my librarian suit. Quicker access, and all that.
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“I want you all to think of the young women with you in this program,” Aro said firmly, his strong voice echoing along the walls, changing the dynamic of the room to more serious in nature. My thoughts travelled immediately to Bella, and a smile curved my mouth at the image of her spread out beneath me just last night. God, she'd felt amazing.
I looked up, seeing similar smirks on the other faces around the room. Only Emmett stood by the fire, his expression tight and brooding. It didn't look right on him somehow, and I wondered who occupied his thoughts: Rosalie, or his mysterious Betty.
“Each of these women is beautiful beyond compare, eager and willing to learn the finer arts of sexual gratification,” Aro continued, earning a couple crude grunts of agreement from the men in the room. “Unbeknownst to them, they are being cultivated by this program to create suitable mates to you boneheads, but I suggest you take a look at the bigger picture. None of you will find a more perfect match than who you are mated to at the Cullen Mansion: personality compatibility, sexual prowess, or in intellectual stimulation. You will never be lacking, nor find a temptation that will surpass what is before you. It's a fact that has been tried and tested many times, and has never failed in the history of the Cullens. It was why our forefathers started this program.”
I grimaced, the heady reminder of our dishonesty with the Betties not sitting right with me for the first time. Perhaps it was my blooming maturity or the fact that I myself had felt deceived, but bile churned in my stomach, stealing my attention away from Aro's asinine logic. I didn't have to worry about challenging him, however. Emmett did it for me.
“Nothing better?” Emmett scoffed, his eyes narrowing. It seemed he'd forgotten his place as a Consort liaison, and was taking an active role in today's discussion. “Explain to me how temptation happens during the program if it's so easy a fix with a perfectly matched mate.”
“I never said that there wouldn't be temptation,” Aro argued, slightly taken aback. “I only said that I'd never seen a mating fail. Our methods are precise and insurmountable. To cheat would be to lose the other half of your soul, and it would be the deepest regret any of you would have.”
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“And then what happened?”
Alice was bouncing around my room, making me incredibly dizzy with the flurry of her movements. I was watching her from my bed, my eyes half blurry from sleep. I had been awoken only moments prior by two of the most adorably obnoxious women I’d ever met, both eager to get the deets on my night with my Consort.
“How much coffee has she had this morning?” I asked Rosalie, covertly leaning over toward her as she sat on my bed, watching Alice act like she had some form of highly compulsive Tourette’s.
“Well, you would know if you came down to breakfast this morning,” Rosalie replied, giving me a snarky look as she took in my disheveled state.
“I had a long night,” I replied defensively, pulling up the covers over my barely covered breasts.
“I see that,” she replied, staring pointedly at the clock glaring next to my bed. I followed her gaze. Eleven am, hardly anything to write to the Journal about…
“Will you two stop talking about me and answer my damn question,” Alice growled, rounding on the pair of us with one of my throw pillows, landing several small swipes to my covered legs.
“Okay, okay…” I said hurriedly. “Calm down. Where was I?”
“Somewhere between ‘Unf’ and ‘Oh yes, right there’,” Rosalie replied sarcastically.
“Shaddup,” I growled, nudging her with my shoulder for emphasis.
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I fucked her.
There was no nice way to put it. No smooth way that I could interpret what we'd done. From every angle I could look at that night, I didn't think I could ever see it as anything more than pure carnal, animalistic fucking.
And it wasn't what I'd expected.
Did I intend to go in there and cause her body to melt beneath me? Show her all the ways I could make her toes curl without even penetrating her?
Yeah, I did. I wanted to savour her, devour her...
Of course I’d given her insurmountable pleasure, just not in the way I wanted it to come about. I'd made her cum and cum hard, but was I slightly disappointed in the fact that she wanted me to fuck her?
Yeah…I fucking was.
And I didn’t understand why I was so disappointed how our first joining went. I mean, I could see just how damned horny she was over the last couple of days. Her need practically clung to her like a second skin. That was the only reason I’d followed her outside on the night of the dinner. I’d convinced myself that it would be a disservice to leave her feeling so achy and needy; of course, there was also my own desire for her nagging at me constantly.
But like she’d done so many times up until this point, she surprised me. It seemed that she didn’t appreciate my attempts to get her to break the rules. I knew she wanted it, but I think she felt that I was trying to disrespect her in some way. That wasn’t my intent; the exact opposite was true, in fact. I knew how most of the women pledges felt at this point: aroused, intrigued, their senses heightened to the point of explosion.
Sometimes I wondered if the program was designed to amp up the sexual tension so much so that any inhibitions the pledges may have were completely disregarded in favour of sating their desperate need to get laid. It was an interesting theory, one I'd decided to ask my uncle Carlisle about.
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Slowly, I made my way toward the bed, pulling off my robe as I went. I loved the way the silk felt as it traveled down my arms, kissing along my skin until finally pooling at my wrists before it plummeted to the ground. The bra and panty set I was wearing was made of a similar fabric, and it hugged my body perfectly, leaving me both sensitive and secure at the same time. The black stockings I wore left my legs feeling long and elegant, while the length that stopped at my mid-thigh left just the right amount of skin bare to make it highly erotic.
As I approached the bed, I noticed that covering the surface of it was a large blanket that seemed to be made of a thick type of high-quality faux fur. The strands were thick and inviting, and I took my time as I climbed onto the bed on all fours. I ran my fingers through the soft down, stretching out my body until I was laying on it fully, the silken fabric tickling along my belly and exposed skin.
The feeling of it against me was so sensual. Perhaps it was because my senses were already so heightened or because the anticipation of what was to come had almost left me desperate with need, but I couldn’t help but to turn on my back, holding my arms out wide as I felt the soft fur smooth over me like warmed honey.
It was then that I saw a red satin ribbon hanging from the middle of the canopy above me with a small envelope attached to the end. Slowly I sat up, not taking my eyes away from the strange find as I timidly reached out my hand and snatched the letter from the bow. I opened the unsealed envelope and pulled out the small card inside. Seeing the familiar elegant handwriting, a small smile curved my lips as I read my next instruction.
It’s come to my understanding that my desire to be with you has overwhelmed my thoughts completely.
With that in mind, what I share with you tonight should be kept between only me and you.
Pull the ribbon slowly…
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"Just open them, Bella," Rosalie encouraged with a little nudge at my shoulder. I took a deep breath and pulled back the evelope to the first one. Inside was a flat peice of stationary with short stalky lettering in the middle.
Bella,
I meant what I told you when I first met you. Seductive clothing has it's purpose.
I would love to show you exactly what I mean this weekend.
~ Jacob Black
I felt my breath catch in my throat as memories of the night I'd met Jacob came flooding back into my mind.
"You're not comfortable in your costume, are you Betty?" he'd asked me as he looked at my nearly naked body, covered in thin scraps of white silk.
"It wouldn't be my first choice..." I'd answered honestly.
"I'll tell you what I find sexy about this outfit," he'd said, his voice deep and husky. "I like the fact that if I wanted to, I could flip that cup down that's barely covering your breasts in a flash and have your nipple between my fingertips just as quickly. And that dress is so short, that if I wanted to, I could palm your bare ass, feel the soft skin bend to my ministrations. I could even give you an orgasm, right in the middle of the party, and I wouldn't even have to take your clothes off."
Coming back to reality with a shuddered breath, I could feel my face heat against the memory of his words. At the time, they'd set my body aflame, both from incredulity and intense lust. It seemed Jacob remembered them too, making good on his promise to show me the benefits of a woman's scant attire.
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We paused automatically outside the closed double doors to the sitting room, our actions so synchronized it was if we'd planned it.
"You ready?" I asked her, my anticipation laced in my tone. She nodded emphatically, and we both reached for the door to swing it open.
My eyes scanned the dimly lit room, trying to take so much in at once.
Several of the consorts were dispersed around the room, chatting happily to the remaining Betties. I heard Angela talking to someone briefly, her arm leaving mine as she took a small step away.
The sitting area was large and welcoming, with a large hearth and fire serving as the focal point. The décor was done in old English antique with a modern flair, and the color palette was warm and inviting, offering a mild dose of comfort given the subtle tension in the room.
There were several men in matching white button up shirts and black pants holding platters of aurdurves and tall glasses of champaign. I had just finished reaching for one, bringing the sweet nectar to my lips, when I caught a sharp sense of uneasiness spread through me. Wondering it's source, my eyes quickly glanced about the room, trying to pinpoint the impending doom.
That's when I saw her...
Standing in the middle of the room, staring glaciers in my direction, was none other then the Ice Queen herself - Lauren.
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"Ho-ly shhhit," I slurred, my mouth hanging open as I took in the bare chested magnificence before me. "Fuck me..."
I could tell Rosalie was looming at me, chuckling at my reaction. "I know, right," she replied, then let out a little sigh. "Moving day is always my favorite day of the year."
"Better than christmas," I said absentmindedly as I watched Edward and Emmett unloading one of the trucks, both working in conjunction to lift a heavy hope chest from the back end of it.
"Oh yeah," Rosalie agreed. We wathed silently as both juicy men bent down to set the chest on the ground so that they could grasp the edges of it differently. Simultaneously, Rosalie and I bent our heads
slightly in order to gain a better angle.
I could tell Rosalie was looming at me, chuckling at my reaction. "I know, right," she replied, then let out a little sigh. "Moving day is always my favorite day of the year."
"Better than christmas," I said absentmindedly as I watched Edward and Emmett unloading one of the trucks, both working in conjunction to lift a heavy hope chest from the back end of it.
"Oh yeah," Rosalie agreed. We wathed silently as both juicy men bent down to set the chest on the ground so that they could grasp the edges of it differently. Simultaneously, Rosalie and I bent our heads
slightly in order to gain a better angle.
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The pledges didn't know that we had access to their personal file. They were under the impression that they were only for the Dames, used only to cultivate their program to fit their specific needs. In reality, they were for us. It gave us the inside scoop, allowing us that hidden glimpse into the Betty's psyche to better meet their needs. If I listened to the Cullen theory, it was supposed to train us to better decipher what our partners needs were. To train us how to pick up on little cues a person gives their lover to let them know what they liked and disliked, in and out of the bedroom.
I thought that was utter bullshit...
Personally, I thought the misleading nature of the program set up a foundation of lies and deceit. How could they trust us later when we'd lied from the beginning? But I guessed that my thinking was just way off, because that was the way they'd run this place for years.
Besides, these women that applied to the program were only out for one thing: to get fucked good and plenty. And I was here to oblige. I was like a stud in a way. An empty, meaningless, destitute stud that was only used to help fulfill some wayward fantasies of some of society's royal princesses.
Fuck, the whole thing was getting really tiresome...
There was something about Isabella, though. She had a manner about her that seemed intriguing in some way. She didn't fit the mold of a typical Betty, but I couldn't quite put my finger on what that difference was. Maybe she didn't seem as pathetically eager like the other ones. I knew she was — witnessed her desperation up close and personal — but she didn't permeate the atmosphere with her desire like the other women did. Her need was subtle, covert, and that fact made her more appealing somehow.
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"I believe it is safe to assume that you've had inadequate lovers in the past," Rosalie said as she leaned over and kissed Emmett on his neck. His hands automatically reached around her head and caressed her.
"What makes you assume that?" I asked as I watched them, that pain in my heart from the night before at seeing their intimate exchange returned just briefly, but I wrote it off as embarrassment at being present to witness their obvious love for each other.
"Well," Rosalie said as she began to walk toward me, taking a seat next to me on the bed. "You've stated in your profile that you have only climaxed five times, and all by your own hand. And I doubt that whatever man you were with wasn't watching you do it, taking a tutorial on how to please his woman." I scoffed at that, eliciting a little giggle from Rosalie.
"What douche kinda guy were you with, Bella-bean?" Emmett asked. "It should have been his top priority to please you."
"Agreed," Rosalie added, looking at Emmett with raw lust shining out of her eyes. I noticed her hands rubbing up and down her thighs as she looked at him, displacing the fabric so that I could see a little more silken skin of her upper leg.
"If you learn anything here, Bella, it will be that you deserve to be pleasured to a man's utmost ability," Rosalie said, drawing my attention away from her creamy skin to her face.
