A/N: 18+ content / please remember that I am French so there might be some mistakes here and there, also I've had to use vocabulary I am unfamiliar with so some things may be worded wrong - my first 18+ fic so it's probably really bad but I hope you can enjoy it anyway - hope you like it -

Feedback is always appreciated

Enjoy -

"Happy birthday."

Angie smiled. She had just woken up and was still groggy, but he knew she was awake. For the first time in months she had heard something else than the usual "good morning, angel". His voice was the first thing she heard, and his arms were the first things she felt in the morning.

They were in his office, under the black sheet of the bed that had come to turn Carlisle's personal's space into their bedroom. The smell of books, his smell, was now mixed with the sweet fragrance of the telepath. Some of her things were scattered around the room. Her bag, her clothes, her laptop, her iPod… Some things had been there for weeks, taking roots as if they had always been there, as if there had never been a time when Angie didn't belong here, when this room wasn't hers just like it was his. She had come to love this room. It was a sort of museum, the Carlisle museum, telling his story, showing what he was like, where he had been, what he liked and, now, who he loved.

Almost nine months had passed since they met, and it felt like they had spent their entire life together. They knew everything about each other. They were unconditionally and irrevocably in love. They had spent the summer together, joined at the hip, doing everything together, reading, playing chess, watching TV, taking a walk in the forest or just sitting somewhere, alone, in silent, just enjoying each other's company. They often left the house to be alone. Carlisle didn't like the idea that the others were eavesdropping on them. He was a little paranoid about it, but he cared a lot about Angie's privacy. Angie enjoyed the silence too. After years and years of headaches and loud thoughts that weren't her own, she was finally able to enjoy it, to hear her own thoughts, to rest, and to think clearly.

Bella did the same with Edward and Charlie didn't like the idea of her daughter spending so much time with a 'boy'. Angie wondered how her father would react if she knew she weren't spending her days with Alice like he had been told. Charlie was extremely proud of his daughters. They weren't bothering anyone, they weren't making trouble, they were polite and respectful and had seem to be adapting well to their new life in Forks. He was all the more proud of Angie who was doing so well at school her teachers had decided to have her skip junior year and make her a senior instead. The news had made her parents very happy. Happier than Bella and Carlisle. To Bella, it meant she was going to be in the same classes as her little sister, and for some reason she didn't like that, and to Carlisle, it meant that Angie would graduate at 17, a year early, and that their plans were moved up as well. Carlisle had made it clear he wouldn't turn her before her eighteenth birthday, but Angie had insisted they leave anyway after graduation like they had planned. Neither Edward nor Carlisle liked the idea of turning their mate. They thought they were damning them to Hell. Neither of the Swan sisters believed in Hell, but even if they did, they knew they wouldn't go there. They weren't monsters like they thought they were. But no matter how many times they would hear it, they weren't going to be convinced.

It was almost the end of summer break. The last week, in fact. Monday, August 30, Angie's 17th birthday. It had been a pain to convince Charlie to let Angie spend the weekend at the Cullens'. He wanted to celebrate with her but Alice had been insisting on having a party at their place and Charlie had to work that day, so he reluctantly agreed. Bella's birthday was coming up too anyway, and the sisters were fine with celebrating both birthdays at the same time, on a Saturday night, going out with their father, eating at the same place they ate every Wednesday at noon. So, here she was, in Carlisle's arms, in their bed, in his house, on her birthday. She couldn't imagine a more perfect morning.

"G'morning," she mumbled.

"Good morning, angel," he said before he kissed the top of her head. "How did you sleep?"

"You tell me," she replied groggily, rubbing her eyes before placing her hand on his chest.

He chuckled. "You were quiet."

"Did you finish your book?"

"I did," he nodded. "I remembered near the end that I had already read it."

"Oh, so you knew how it was going to end."

"Yes. It was actually quite obvious."

"Did you enjoy it at least?"

"I've read better novels."

"I'm sure you've read all the novels," she joked.

"Maybe not all of them," he chuckled.

Angie yawned then sat up as she ran a hand through her messy hair. Carlisle sat up too and she moved closer to him, kissed his cheek then rested her head on his shoulder.

"What time is it?" she asked as she closed her eyes.

"It's still early. 7AM. You can go back to sleep if you want."

"You don't mind?" she whispered as if she were already falling back to sleep.

"Of course not," he said before kissing her forehead.

But before she had a chance to fall asleep, her phone rang. She jumped, startled, then sighed.

"That must be my mum. She always forgets about the time difference."

"You should pick up."

She kissed his cheek before she got up. The call lasted half an hour, which was unusual for Renée who usually held her daughters for at least an hour. "Did you get my gift? It should be in the mail. Did you get it? I hope you like it, oh will you call me as soon as you get it?" Angie hang up with a sigh. She put the phone down on Carlisle's office before she made her way back to the bed.

"My mom's exhausting," she chuckled.

"She misses you."

"Yeah… I know she does. I do too…"

Angie turned on Carlisle's stereo and the Nocturnes by Chopin started to play.

"What are you doing?" he asked. They usually put on music when they wanted some privacy.

"I don't want to go back to sleep," she answered as she put a knee on the bed. Carlisle watched her as she moved towards him. She put her hands on his shoulders and sat on his lap, trapping his thighs between her knees. He placed his hands on both sides of her waist as she leaned in to kiss him. Her action surprised him, but he reacted to the kiss immediately. He moved his hands on her back, bringing her closer to him. He opened his mouth and his tongue met hers and they started their familiar dance. Their hands traveled on each other's bodies, exploring each area as if they were discovering them for the first time. Carlisle's hands reached the edge of her oversized shirt and she shivered as his cold fingers touched her skin. He was being as careful as he could be, as if he were handling a rare piece of porcelain, a unique piece of art that had to be protected at all cost.

Despite the lack of heat from his body, Angie felt hot. Even he could feel the warmth rising in her cheeks and her hot breath on his stone skin. Her heart beat fast enough for both of them. His hands moved up her skin and she gasped and straightened up as he reached her breasts. She shivered as his thumbs gently caressed her nipples. He broke the kiss to let her breathe. She often forgot to do that. His nose trailed down her cheek and his lips found her neck. She tilted her head to give him full access of the exposed skin of her shoulder. He slowly slid his hands on her back and gently, maybe unconsciously, lowered her down. An unintentional moan escaped her when she met with the bulge under her. The uncomfortable sensation in her belly made her instinctively rub against it, making Carlisle growl.

"Angel," he murmured.

"Mmh," was the only reply she could give. She was lost in pleasure and in need. She couldn't think clearly, couldn't even see clearly. She could only feel the desire growing in her and the burning sensation of Carlisle's cold body on hers.

"We talked about this…"

Finally, she opened her eyes, alarmed that this was about to end. He moved away from her neck and leaned back to look at her. She whined.

"Don't stop," she said before she went for a kiss. "Please…"

He didn't kiss her back at first, but she wasn't stopping. She took his face in her hands and kissed his lips a few times before she bit his lower lip. Her tongue made its way into his mouth and he finally kissed her back. Her hands slowly moved down his chest. Her fingers eventually found the cold bare skin of her mate. He felt like a moving statue. Strong, cold, unbreakable. She could feel each detail of his skin. She started to go up but then unexpectedly changed her course and moved down. He seized her wrist when she reached his pants. He broke the kiss to look at her. His eyes met hers and silently asked if she were certain she wanted to go further. She kissed him to answer. She could feel he was hesitant, she could feel he was holding back. She knew he wanted it as much as she did, and maybe more.

His hands made their way to her thighs and he lifted her up gently and slowly laid her down on the bed. She was a hot mess. Her cheeks were as red as they could get, her heart was beating fast and her breathing was unsteady. The uncomfortable feeling in her belly wasn't going away. She unconsciously closed her thighs in an attempt to soothe herself.

Carlisle was hovering over her, taking in the delicious sight before him. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen and his need for her only grew bigger every second. She blushed even more when she saw the look on his face, she felt embarrassed and nervous. They had never gone farer than this. They always stopped before it went too far. He always stopped them.

Seconds passed and he wasn't moving, admiring his mate, trying to memorize each detail. Her long messy brown scattered hair, the exposed skin of her right shoulder, his oversized beige shirt she was wearing, the pink shorts barely visible under it… But her eyes were the cherry on top. Those clear blue eyes so clear it almost made them grey, those eyes that looked at him as if he were the most important person on the planet, the best person, the one she needed, the only one she wanted.

"Carlisle," she whispered his name, calling him.

He slowly leaned over, placing his right hand near her head and taking her left ankle with the other. His fingers brushed over her skin, his touch making her shiver, the fire in her belly becoming stronger as his hand made its way towards it. Eventually, he was close enough she could touch him. He brushed his nose against hers before placing a delicate kiss on her lips. As he kissed his way to her cleavage, his hand reached her pink shorts. She gasped. She thought he was going to remove them, but instead he seized the edge of her shirt and gently pulled it up. She understood what he wanted, and hesitantly followed his silent direction. The shirt was thrown away and landed somewhere on the floor. She was showing this part of her for the first time. The notion of 'feeling naked' had never made more sense to her. She didn't know what to do, she felt like she should cover herself. She moved her arms, trying to hide her chest, but didn't know if she should. She looked away, avoiding Carlisle's gaze. He gently took her wrist and moved her arm away. She felt paralyzed.

"You're beautiful," he said quietly.

She breathed out, noticing then she was holding her breath. As if he could read her mind, something she was trying hard not to do, he removed his own shirt, so that they would equally be exposed. She looked back at him then. She had seen him shirtless before. Forks didn't have particularly hot summers but his cold skin had come handy one weekend when the temperature had been abnormally high. She unconsciously covered herself with her arms again. He then leaned over once more to continue his exploration of her body. He started where he had left off, his lips finding her cleavage once more. He slowly made his way between her breasts. His left hand moving up her thigh to her waist, reaching her chest slowly. She gasped when his thumb touched her nipple. He had done it a few times but somehow it felt different this time. His lips grazed her right breast before his tongue met her nipple. She moaned his name as she enjoyed the unfamiliar touch.

Carlisle had never been with a woman before. She was his first, his one and only, just like he was hers. Everything he knew came from books and things he had heard over the centuries. He felt like he was in an uncharted territory, terra incognita, literally. Nobody had been where he was now and no one else ever will. She was his and she wanted it that way. She gave herself to him, freely and willingly. It made him feel hungry, in a good way. He wasn't starving for blood at that moment, he was starving for her. For her touch, for her affection, for her love. It was somehow better and worse. Because it hurt so much but in such a good way.

He growled again. An animalistic growl she had never heard from him. He took her nipple in his mouth and played with it with his tongue. She moaned again as she put her hand on his shoulder. His touch made the fire in her belly worsen. She rubbed her thighs, trying to calm the unbearable sensation.

"Carlisle," she begged.

But Carlisle still was unsure of what he should do. He didn't know if he could do it. He was afraid to hurt her. He too had a fire burning inside him and even in his needy state he didn't forget that, even with Chopin, they weren't alone in the house.

This wasn't how he wanted to do it. They had to be alone. Truly alone. He needed time to figure it out, to find a way to give her what she wanted without hurting her.

His mouth suddenly released her nipple and continued its journey down Angie's body. He quickly reached the shorts. His eyes looked up, trying to find hers. When the kisses stopped, Angie suppressed a whine and looked down at him. She met with his gaze and understood he was asking for permission. She hesitated but eventually lifted herself off the bed, allowing him to remove the pink shorts and her soaking underwear. She took a deep breath as he removed her last piece of clothing. He quickly started kissing her inner thigh and Angie's mind felt like it was about to blow up. She didn't know what to do, she didn't know how to act. She covered her face with her hands as she moaned again.

"Shh," he tried to calm her. "We can stop if you want, just let me know. I'll stop right away."

She slowly moved her hands away from her face to look at him. She shook her head. "Don't stop."

He gave her a reassuring smile before he started kissing her again. He slowly made his way up her thigh, giving her time to adjust, giving her time to change her mind. She gasped when she felt his nose had reached her sex. He looked up and saw she was looking at the ceiling, her hands resting on her chest. He didn't move his eyes from her as he kissed her hot wet lips. The unfamiliar touch made her gasp. He watched closely, ready to stop at any second. A weak cry escaped her lips when he did it again.

"Ange?" he quickly asked, alarmed.

"I'm okay," she nodded.

His tongue explored her private area, his action drawing moan from her. She had never made those sounds and he had never heard them either. It woke something in him, something else he needed to fight against. For now, at least. He knew what he should be looking for and when he found the button he quickly pressed it. He captured it in his mouth, and she jumped slightly as another cry came out from her. He started playing with it, enjoying the sounds and the movements she made. She was like a puppet on a string and he was the puppeteer. His hands kept moving up and down her body, trying to hold her in place. He stopped for half a second, licked her fold clean which drove her to cry his name in surprise. He chuckled, surprising himself. Oh how he was enjoying this.

He quickly made his way back up her body and cover her mouth with his. The kiss was hot and messy and urgent. She could taste herself on his lips, she didn't know if she liked it. His right hand found its way towards her sweet spot. His thumb started to caress it while his fingers brushed against her fold. She gasped, opening her eyes to meet his.

"Carlisle," she moaned as she put her hands on his back.

She couldn't have read his mind even if she tried, she was barely conscious of her own. She moved her waist to meet Carlisle's fingers making him understand he was going to slow. Two of his long cold fingers slowly made their way inside her. She squeezed her eyes shut, making him stop, afraid he was hurting her. He decided to focus on her clit, certain he could do no wrong there. He started rubbing it more quickly which seemed to be making wonders. He couldn't look away from her face as he sped up. She tightened her grip on him as her moans and whimpers became louder. He watched her gasp and tremble under him. He could see the pleasure on her beautiful face and hear it in her heartbeat. He could see it build up. She was going to explode soon. He slowed down which made her panic. She shot him an alarmed look and he smiled. He circled the button slowly which frustrated her. She whined, wondering what he was doing. He just didn't want this moment to end. He knew he was being selfish, but he was going to make it up to her.

"I love you," he said.

She was obviously surprised by the sudden confession. "I love you too."

He smiled and she could see how happy he was at that moment which made her smile too. "I love you," she repeated, knowing the effect it had on him. He picked up the pace a little bit more every time she said it, so she didn't stop saying it. "I love you, I love you, I love you…"

Quickly, she couldn't say it anymore, she couldn't say anything. Only moans and groans came out of her mouth. Carlisle drank it all in. What a beautiful mess she was. The look on her face when she came, the sounds she made and how her body trembled before, during and after the high.

She was out of breath, as if she had just run a marathon when he separated himself from her. He looked her over, still bewildered that the girl lying there in his bed was his.

"Carlisle," she breathed out, calling for him. Her eyes were barely opened, she felt exhausted.

"Stay with me, angel."

"Mmh…"

He chuckled. He found his shirt and put it back on. He picked up hers and put it on her. She was half conscious. He settled both of them back on the bed and she fell back asleep in his arms, finally.

"Happy birthday, angel."