Tattward & Inkella One-Shot Contest

Title: The Definition of Irony

Your pen name: Shelbysue

Characters: Bella, Edward, Alice, Emmett

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Stephanie Meyer, oh and they don't pay me for this either.

To see other entries in the Tattward & Inkella Contest, please visit the C2 page:
www(dot)fanfiction(dot)net/community/Tattward_and_Inkella_Contest/71624/

Shit. Just shit. He did it again, he runs this whole damn shop; hell, he makes the appointments and he purposefully kept this entire afternoon open. He's gonna ask, he's looking at me and he's gonna ask. Damn it though if I don't turn to jello inside every time he looks at me, he has no clue what he does to me. It's not just his body, though dear God, he is the definition of man, but his eyes, his eyes are enough to make my thighs rub together involuntarily and my nipples harden at just one look.

"I gotta pee, I'll be right back." I peed ten minutes ago, everyone knows this is bullshit, and they all look at me incredulously, well all except for Alice. She could spit venom right now.

"I gotta pee too Bella, so I guess we're having a bathroom date." Alice eyeballs me as she says this, as if to say I dare you to say something. Jesus, she's my friend, she loves me, but she's his sister, and she's tired of me messing around. We walk back into the bathroom and before I can even get my jeans unbuttoned she's sitting on the toilet. How does she move so fast?

"Listen here damn it, this is the last time I'm saying this to you. You convinced me to come do ink in your shop when I had a really good thing going and it's worked out great so far, but you have to stop dicking him around because it's affecting everyone. You're hurting him, he's your best fucking friend and I get that you're scared but you're being ridiculous. I know you love him, and that you're scared to be that close to him but he's been waiting around for you to do his ink since he was sixteen Bella, for God's sake! Eight years, eight years of you making fun of every idea he has and coming up with bullshit excuses not to do it. You don't want to be vulnerable, I get it. Big Bad Bella doesn't need a man. She didn't need her parents, she didn't need to get started at someone else's shop, she struck out on her own and she's completely independent. You know what the pisser is though? I know you're not happy. And it's not because you 'need a man' to be happy, it's because you fucking need Edward, and you're being such a freakin' coward right now. I can't even begin to tell you how angry I am. Not just for him either. You always just take what you want, but you've loved him since forever and you won't do a damn thing about it! If you don't pony the fuck up I'm out of here, I can't take this tension anymore." I can't even breathe. I'm- shit, I'm crying. I never cry. I know she's more right than she will ever know, but I don't know what to do about it. If I get that close to him, if I have to have my hands on his body for that long, in that intimate way, I'll lose my calm. I'll lose my shit, and my walls will come tumbling like Jericho. And maybe someone else wouldn't be able to tell how I am feeling, but he knows me, better than I know myself sometimes, and he'll see that I love him, and he'll walk away. I'll lose him, and he's the only one I can't stand to lose.

"I can't. I just can't Alice. Not an option, it's not a fucking option. If I lose him I have nothing." My voice breaks on that last word and I realize that I'm sliding down the wall, he has literally brought me to my knees and he doesn't even have a clue. I'm on my knees in the bathroom crying to Alice, who has finally made me admit that I love him and I am scared of something. I've never been scared of anything, but I'm terrified of him.

"If you don't do this for him, if you just keep pushing him away you will lose him. This is your only option Bella." I look up at her and realize that she isn't yelling, she's trying to comfort me. I'm hurting her brother and she's comforting me.

"I know, Alice, I'm so damn sorry for making everyone miserable. I need a minute, I can't go out there like this, I have to get my shit together. I'll do it, I'll give him whatever tat he wants, I can't take it anymore either. If he finds out, well then I guess the ball is in his court, and I'm fucked." She stands up, flushes the toilet and gives me a hug as she walks out. I look up at the mirror. Christ I look like shit. They've never seen me cry, and if I go out there like this they'll think I'm dying or something. I splash some water on my face and make my way back to my office so I can fix my makeup. I sit at my desk and start pulling out my make-up from my purse when I glance up at the walls, red and blue stripes. Circus walls, he called them, the walls he painted for me. I'm surrounded by him, everything is a reminder of how much he doesn't know I love him. I pull out my mirror and set it on my desk; I have to look at something that he didn't have a hand in creating.

As I'm packing concealer under my eyes he walks in. I know it's him, not just because of his walk, or his smell but I can literally feel him. He has no clue, but my whole world centers around him. I feel his movements, and I respond accordingly. I feel like a planet, orbiting him like he's the freakin' sun. It's like I've become some crappy seventh grade solar system model with the Styrofoam balls. It's freakin' pathetic and I have to get a grip, because it's all going to come crashing down on me. I have a death sentence; I figure it will be an hour or less until I have to face this mess head on. I've still got my back to him, but I can feel the determination rolling off of him.

"Izz, I know what I want, and you can talk whatever kind of shit you want, but this is it. I want two sparrows, on my chest, I know what it means, before you ask me, and I want to make that statement." He knows what it means. Love, dedication, commitment, he's done his research. He loves someone. Well, that's just fucking awesome, he's making some freakin' love declaration to some freakin' woman; this is the definition of irony. He'll find out I'm in love with him while I'm helping him declare his undying commitment to some other woman. God, I don't pray a lot but if you could just open the earth and swallow me whole I swear all my money will go to sick babies, or something.

"You sure she'll be okay with me being the one to put this on you? I don't want to cause any problems." I say this quietly, because if I put any volume behind it I'm afraid he'll hear my heartbreak, and that's just not fair to him. Maybe if I hadn't waited my whole damn life to tell him how I feel I might have the right to be indignant, but this is my own doing. I wanted to be independent and now, well, I got my wish and then some. I might as well get some cats, about six of them should do, because they will be the only thing I'll be coming home to for the rest of my life. I glance at him and he's so keyed up for battle with me that he can't move for a moment. His hands are on his hips, chin jutting out in defiance, nostrils flared and shit but it's all I can do to stop myself from tackling him to the ground and having my wicked way with him. I snap my eyes back to my mirror and finish my face, because I can't look at him one more second without losing it, one way or another.

"Huh? Did you just cave? Are you sick or something? Don't you want to tell me how stupid it is to get a tattoo for another person, or how you don't want to be the one to put ink on me that I'll regret later? How about how retarded it is to get some sailor tattoo, or how I'll look like some fucking poser? Anything?" I can hear the shock in his voice, and if I had it in me I would smile, but I just don't. He's expecting the fight, the same fight I've put up since I started my apprenticeship eight years ago. He's been trying to get me to give him a tattoo for eight years and I've thrown every excuse in the book at him, from my inexperience and lack of skill to the "idiocy" behind every idea he's ever had. Here's the kicker, every tattoo he's ever wanted I've wanted to give him, because nothing would be sexier on him. But I've belittled him, his ideas, his reasoning and in doing so managed to put this off as long as I could. He won't let anyone else touch him though; he says he didn't help me build my shop just to be a traitor. So he's waited around for so long, and I honestly don't have it in me to deny him anymore. I would have caved soon if Alice hadn't stepped in today anyway.

"Sounds like you have your reasons. I'm sure she's great and if she doesn't have a problem with it I guess we should get it over with. Give me a minute to set up my table back here. I don't want any walk-ins to see my counter guy getting inked when they walk in, it's just not professional." I sound dead, hollow. Defeated, I am fucking defeated. "Just give me a minute to draw them up, go shave your chest." He walks up behind me, puts his hand on my shoulder and kisses the top of my head. I want to grab his hand pull it to my face, nuzzle it and just bask in his touch. Instead I sit there like a statue waiting for whatever he's going to throw at me next.

"Thanks Izz, you're the best." It's all I can do at that moment to not break down so I shut my eyes and let myself pretend for a moment that he's touching me out of something other than brotherly affection. You're the best, such bullshit. I put my petty crap before him, I've mocked him, yelled at him, and I'm the best. I guess its better this way; he should be with someone who doesn't pretend to be a cold hearted bitch all the time just to keep people at arms length. He walks away and I take a deep breath. I walk out to the front and Alice and Emmett are staring at me, Alice with relief for her brother, and Emmett with pity. He must be more perceptive than I thought.

"I have to draw this up, Em, would you mind setting up a table in my office? There's plenty of space, I just don't want to do this out here, it's unprofessional." He gives me a small smile and nods.

"Anything you need Bella, I'm on it." As he walks by he puts his hand on my shoulder. It's comforting, but it also feels like a confirmation of my biggest fears. I am wondering just how much talking Edward does with him when I'm not around. I want to ask him about this woman Edward loves. I want to know everything about her. I want to track her down and tell her that if she ever hurts him I will dismantle her ass. I want to tell her to love him more than anyone has ever loved another person, because that's what he deserves. Instead I walk over to my station and start drawing. All too soon, there's nothing else for me to do but set up my gun and inks in my office. As I'm walking back there I pass the bathroom where Edward is shaving his chest in the sink. Jesus he's perfect. His chest is just the right amount of defined to be incredibly sexy without looking like he tries to hard. I don't know how I'm going to maintain my composure while touching that chest, especially when I look farther down and realize that I can see the road to the promise land. That trail can't be called happy, that's not strong enough. That is the fucking yellow brick road leading to the pearly gates of…Christ, I can't even think. I stare for a minute, and as I'm getting ready to walk away he looks up at me and smiles. Fuck. My heart breaks just a little more right then and there.

"I need to know what colors you want. I assumed you wanted to go more traditional, less realistic, which is what I drew but if you want something a little more real I can draw that up too." His smile turns into a grin, and then he looks back in the mirror at what he is doing.

"That's perfect Izz, I do want something more traditional, you know me too well." He chuckles at this, and I lock the sound in my memory. "Red and blue, that's what I want, red and blue." Those are my favorite colors, this is fucking torture.

"Are you sure that's what she'll want? This is for her, right?" Why am I making this so much worse for myself? Just give him what he wants and be done with it.

"She'll love it, I know her better than anyone, and she'll love it; when I get the balls to tell her that is." He looks at his shoes while he says this and I think I see a blush on his cheeks. He's actually being timid, which is more than odd. This is it. This is where I should tell him that he has to tell her, because it's so much worse seeing someone walk away when they never knew how you feel because you were too chicken shit. But I don't, because that would mean I would have to tell him how I feel. And I've already lost him, so there's no point. It would only make him feel worse, and I never want him to feel bad.

"Alright, well I should be set up in about ten minutes, just come on back when you're ready." I turn to walk away, I have to have a minute to myself, lock away the picture of him in my head, him shirtless and smiling at me with a razor in his hand. Change a few details and it could be a Sunday morning at home, us just waking up, me asking what he wants for breakfast. So that's what I file this away as; some Sunday morning, Edward loves me back pipe dream. But I keep it, I cling to it because it's all I have. I take two steps and then I hear it.

"Thanks Izz, I mean it. It means a lot to me that you're doing this. I wouldn't want anyone else to give me this or any tattoo, and just…well thanks." He's so sincere, and if I was a good person I would turn the hell around, give him a smile and tell him he's welcome and I'm honored to be the first one to ink his skin. But instead I squeak out a no problem and walk into my office. Emmett is setting up my table and he looks at my face and knows. I know he knows, I've known him longer than Edward and Alice, hell everyone but my parents, and I can read him well.

"Fuck Bells, I don't know how to help you...just tell me and I'll do it." I smile at him and I realize that it's going to be okay. Not good; unpleasant, but still, okay. And I decide that if I'm only going to ever get one shot at being this close with him, this is like my last hoorah. I'm not going to ruin this by being sullen and emotional. I'm not turning into a fucking girl over this. I've been through worse. That's a lie. There is nothing worse, but still, I'm stronger than this.

"Em, it's cool. Yeah, it freakin' sucks and all but truthfully, I should have seen this coming and I have no one but myself to blame. So now I just have to put on my big girl panties and suck it up. I'm gonna be okay, don't worry." I am not going to ruin this for myself or Edward.

"Hey, could you grab my iPod from my station out front? I am gonna need a little lyrical help to get through this." I laugh, and it feels good to be light for a moment. Getting set up takes about five minutes and as I sit there, waiting for him, I start thinking about how hypocritical I've been in regards to his tattoo requests. Five years ago he came to me with what he thought was an idea I couldn't refuse. He wanted his family crest on his arm, I told him that tattoos don't define who you are and that he wasn't going to forget his last name without it inked on his body to which he replied, 'Oh, and that fucking swan you have on your foot, that's just a coincidence? Don't give me that shit Bella.' I told him I didn't fucking appreciate him saying my name that way and if he was going to talk to me like that he couldn't call me Bella anymore, and from that day on he started calling me Izz. I swear I almost punched Alice's boyfriend Jasper for calling me that one day. Only Edward can call me that. Ever. But then again, there are a lot of only Edwards for me.

"Ready Izz? How do you want me?" I nearly jumped out of my skin, I guess I had been more in my head than I thought because I didn't even here him come in. He smirks at me, and I almost lose it. I want to tell him I want him fast and hard, rough and dirty, sweet and loving, for the rest of my life. But then I realize that I need to maintain some normalcy or he'll know what's up.

"On your back bitch." I laugh and he smiles and lies down on the table. I start placing the stencils, I have to match them up so he doesn't look like a douche with cockeyed sparrows on his chest and he flinches when I touch his skin. I catch his eye and for a second I think I see his eyes roll back a little. Part of me wants to take that as the go sign and jump on him, but then I realize that's just ridiculous. It's just because my hands are always freezing.

"Sorry, are my hands too cold? I'll have gloves on in a minute and it won't be so bad." I realize that he's not looking at me, and it dawns on me that this might be uncomfortable for him. "Look, we don't have to do this now, if you want some time, or someone else to-"

"No! I want this, now. Sorry, I guess your hands were a little cold." He still won't look at me, and I figure I should just get this show on the road. I don't know what else to do. I hand him a mirror and ask him if that looks about right to him and his response throws me for a loop.

"I trust you, I don't need to see it. It'll be perfect, everything you do is perfect." Damn it all, he's breaking me down and I haven't even started yet.

"I'm far from perfect, but if you're not even going to look then I'll make this my best work, I don't want to even think about disappointing you." He looks me in the eyes then for the first time since he laid down and he smiles. I'm going to be okay.

**

We chatted and made small talk for three and a half hours while I worked, and now it's almost done. Em came in right after I got started and put on some music so even when things go a little tense or awkward it wasn't too bad, at least it wasn't dead silent. I almost lost it at one point and jumped his bones, but I recovered. Morrissey's Dear God Please Help Me started playing and I was feeling a little sorry for myself until he started singing along and then everything changed. Hearing Edward sing that song while I tattooed him, rubbing ink off his skin with paper towels, watching it redden and swell, it was the single most erotic thing I have ever experienced and I almost lost it and came right there. When he crooned the line there are explosive kegs between my legs I almost dropped the gun and decided it was a good time for us to take five. I ran to my retreat in the bathroom, sat on the floor and put my head between my legs until I calmed down enough to continue. When I came back I heard A Message To You Rudy by The Specials. That was the kind of music I needed right then, not some sexy declaration of want and need.

I am just putting in some white and it will be over. I can't think of any way to prolong this experience and I'm torn. On the one hand, this is the only time I'll ever be able to have this intimate contact with him, and I want it to last as long as possible. But if I'm being honest, I'm also not sure how much more I can take. He's laying on this table, shirtless, letting me mark his body; lay claim to him even if he doesn't know that's what I'm doing and he keeps doing the sexiest things. Running his hand through his hair, making little noises that I'm sure he didn't want me to hear, sucking his lips into his teeth, singing along with my favorite music. God, all of it has me wound so tight I just might snap. And I've been close to him before. We've slept next to each other a few times even, but I feel like, right now, there's some sort of electrical current between us and all I want to do is lick him. Sweet Jesus, what is he doing to me? I've never wanted to lick anything besides a popsicle before, but now? I'd run my tongue over every inch of his body if he'd let me, if he'd want me to. That's just one pipe dream that's never gonna come true though. Best get this over with so I can go home, take a bath, unwind and cry into my bathwater where there are no witnesses.

"Izz, why'd you give in? Don't get me wrong, I'm hella stoked you finally agreed to this, but it doesn't make a lot of sense to me. Every time I've asked you before you've always found some reason not to, what gives this time?" I look at his face and his eyes are laying my soul bare. And the walls, they are a tumblin', I'm so screwed. I can't even look away, it's like he's using some freakin' Jedi mind trick on me and I have no control over my own body. I tear my eyes away and lean over my desk to get some more paper towels to clean him up with. I've finished, and it's not a moment too soon. I've officially reached my limit. I have to get the fuck out of here before I completely lose it. I am staring at the underside of his jaw while I'm cleaning his chest; I can't look at any other part of him. I'm on sensory overload.

"Alright, you're all done, why don't you go take a look." As I'm telling him this I start dismantling my gun, cleaning up the mess, anything to keep from looking at him. He's staring at me, I can feel his eyes on my back and there's that magnet pull again. I want more than anything to turn around, grab his face and kiss him. Well, my Mom always told me you can want in one hand and shit in the other and see which gets fuller faster.

"Izz, you didn't answer me. I'm not moving until you answer me." I look up at his face, and I see that I've hurt him, again. Damn it all, why is that all I'm capable of? He's so sincere, he's so honest and such a good fucking person, and I can't seem to do anything right.

"I don't know Edward, maybe I got sick of fighting with you about it, maybe because you had a reason, maybe because I'm just in a good mood today, I don't know." He looks at me with those same hurt eyes, but now there's something else. There's anger, and I'm taken aback. He never gets angry. The last time I saw him truly angry was when I left my parents house, and I thought he was going to knock my dad on his ass for the way he was treating me. He sits up so quickly I almost get whiplash watching him and he's in my face before I can even take a breath.

"That's fucking bullshit and you know it. You don't want to talk to me? Fine, but don't feed my some bullshit line to get me off your back. You don't want to fight with me? Fuck that, we fight all the time, you live to fight with me. And a reason? I've always had a reason, regardless of what it was I wanted I've had a reason. Maybe you like my reason now? Huh? Or maybe you don't like it and you're too chicken shit to tell me so you just cave in to get it over with. Which is horse shit. I always thought you of all people would tell me the truth, tell me how you really feel, not just shovel some generic crap at me. This is so fucked; I can't believe I just did this." He leans back and his eyes are boring holes into mine. I can't breathe; I can't get air in my lungs. He's not only managed to lay my soul bare but he's called me out on every shitty thing I've ever done to him, and he knows that I'm hiding. He knows I'm hiding and he's fucking calling me out on it. And I'm enraged, just like that. I can only take so much in one day. I fling myself out of my chair and now I'm in his face. I know I'm going to lose him to some other woman, some better woman. I have to sit through hours of torture touching but not really touching the only man I want and now he wants me to tell him that I'm dying inside? Fuck this.

"Fuck you Edward. You don't even know what the fuck you're talking about. You wanna know the Goddamn truth, since we're such great 'friends' still?" And for the second time today the tears are flowing but the difference is, this time, I'm too damn mad to stop and deal with them. "I've been in love with you since for fucking ever, and I never tattooed you because I was afraid that if I touched you I'd lose it, and I didn't want to lose you. And every fucking time it's killed me to find a reason to say no to you, because I want to give you everything, but I can't. And you just kept pushing me, and then you tell me you want to get sparrows for some other girl and I want to die. So I know I have to do this for you, because you're my best fucking friend and it's fucked of me to refuse you for so long, but you know what? You just keep Goddamn pushing and you can't just leave me the hell alone to wallow; no you have to fucking force it out of me. I never took you to be someone who could be cruel, but why throw it in my damn face? I did your fucking tattoo, I gave you what you wanted and now I just want to be left the hell alone. So thanks a fucking lot Edward, I'm in love with you, and terrified of you, and now I lost you to someone who's probably a million times better than me, and it's all my fault. You wanna cut a little deeper? Make it hurt a little more? I can't take any fucking more." And I'm crumbling, right along with my walls, my self-preservation and my heart. I'm on the floor, legs folded under me and I'm crying so hard I can't even see straight. All of a sudden his arms are around me and it's too much. I shrug him off and spin around on my knees to face him.

"How much do you think I can take? You can't force that shit out of me knowing you're in love with someone else and expect me to let you comfort me! That's too fucking much." I look him in the eye, fuck it, let him see the destruction. But I freeze, he's fucking crying too. Jesus, I can't do anything right today. There's fire in his eyes and I can see the tendons standing out in his neck, but he makes no move to get up.

"You think there's some other fucking woman? You think I would ever do this for any other fucking woman? Jesus you are so Goddamn blind. Get off the fucking cross Izz, you're not the only tormented soul around here. I've always been there for you. I've never turned you away. I've dealt with your fucking hang ups and bullshit, let you be a bitch to me without retaliation. Fuck, I helped you build this placed from the ground up. I gave you everything and you never even fucking noticed me, and now I hear that you've loved me and never told me? This is such bullshit. It's for you Goddamn it! Everything I've ever fucking done is for you. Red and blue Izz, for you. I fucking love you." His hands are in his hair, pulling and tugging and he looks like a mad man, like a broken man, but his eyes are boring into mine and it's all there; frustration, hurt, anger, resentment…love. And I look at him, all of him. He's squatting in front of me on the balls of his feet, no shirt, and those sparrows; me and him; and I snap. I'm on him so fast he doesn't see me coming and I knock him to the ground. I'm crying so hard my vision is blurred and when I move to kiss him I nearly break both of our noses, but nothing can stop this.

"You never said, never fucking said…" That's all I can get out before his hand is in my hair shoving our mouths together and nothing in the world is better than this. I grab his face with both of my hands and I stop, forcing him to look me in the eyes.

"You never said either Izz, how was I supposed to tell you when you're all I've got?" Sweet Jesus his eyes are telling me everything I'm feeling, and I realize how Goddamn stupid we are. His hands slide from my hair down my neck, across my back and finally stop in my back pockets as he pulls my body farther up his. Our mouths are locked in some sort of battle that no one is trying to win; it's about the game, not the finish line. I run my fingers down his neck to the dip between his pecks and then I get brave enough to trace a line down his abs with my middle finger. Eight years, and I never knew what it felt like to touch his stomach. As I run my fingers across his abs and touch his belly button he quivers, I feel drunk on power and powerless at the same time. It's too much, I have to lighten things up.

"We're the stupidest people on the planet." I try to laugh, but his lips stop me. I slide my tongue in his mouth, I need to be closer, there is no close enough. I want to crawl inside him and live there. I realize that I may have done more damage to our noses than I thought when I can't breathe through mine. I pull away to breath just to have him run his open mouth down my face to my neck, tongue and all. It's not even something you can call a kiss, and if it was anyone else I would probably be disgusted, but it's him. The only reaction I have is to flood my panties and let out a guttural moan. As he moves his mouth down my neck and across my chest, slowly heading to my tits I hear him talk and it pulls me out of my thoughts.

"I've waited for fucking ever for this. Shut the fuck up, I don't want to hear words unless they involve my cock, your tits, or your pussy, got it?" I'm fucking floored. He's never been aggressive or assertive before and by God, this is the fucking hottest thing he's ever done. I grab his hair with both of my hands and force his eyes to meet mine.

"Then get naked Goddamn it. You want me to talk about your cock? Let's see it." I have no clue where the hell that came from, but damn it all, I need him naked.

"Oh no Izz, I am going to lay claim to every fucking inch of your body first." At this he yanks my shirt up over my head as he sits up, causing me to straddle his lap. Christ, I can feel how hard he is through his jeans and I just about cum from the contact. I realize that he's stopped and I look at him to see that he wasn't expecting me to have no bra on. I smirk at him, but my expression changes quickly as he latches onto my left nipple while gripping the right one in his hand, tweaking and pulling, and I begin to unravel slowly. I'm quivering and my pants are still on. Fucking hell, why did we not do this sooner? He's a fucking master, he is playing my body like a fiddle and damn if it's not a thousand times better than I've ever imagined.

"You're so much better…God I never know it could be like this." I try to say more but he switches breasts and I'm incoherent. He sucks my nipple between his teeth and then pulls his head back slowly causing me to yell out some incoherent noise. I am tugging his hair with one hand while trying to touch every part of his skin I can with the other and I can't stop the sounds coming from my mouth.

"Better than who Goddamn it. Tell me who. I suck your tits and get you wet better than who?" He's so fucking dominant and I feel another wave flood my panties. It takes me a second to realize that he thinks I'm comparing him to someone else, and I feel guilty for that. I have to rectify this. I grip his hair tighter, holding him to my chest.

"My dreams about you. You're better than my fantasies. In my dreams you never make me feel this good. It's always fucking been you." His hands are sliding down my stomach and on their way to the button of my jeans. All of a sudden he stops and stares at my chest.

"Get sparrows. Please. I'm fucking begging Izz, get matching sparrows. Be mine, I'm already yours." And I can't even say anything because I'm on my back on the floor and he's got my jeans unbuttoned and half way down my legs, so I just nod and moan.

"Fuck, you will? I fucking love you, you're it for me. I…I can't do this right, I'm sorry, I just want you too bad. I should go slow, I just want to taste you and fuck you until you scream my name. Slow later Izz, I promise"

"Shut the hell up. I know. Stop talking. I need you." He looks at me quickly, smirks and shoves his head between my legs with my pants still around my ankles. He licks my thighs, my mound, my hips, but never where I want. He looks up at me while running his tongue from hip to hip and his eyes are gleaming. He's smirking, the bastard is smirking. It dawns on me, he wants me to beg. Fuck it, I'll beg for the rest of my life if I get to have him. I've never asked anyone for anything in my life, but I'm about to beg him to eat my pussy and I can't even be pissed about it.

"Fuck Edward, please, I need it. I fucking need it. You own me, whatever, just tell me what the fuck to say to make you give me what I need." I am begging and writhing around on my fucking office floor.

"Tell me what it is you need Izz and I'll give it to you. I'll always give you what you want and need." Shit, I have to say it. I have the mouth of a sailor, but this is different.

"Fucking lick my pussy Goddamn it, make me fucking cum." And damn it all if he doesn't make good on his promise. I can't even tell what he is doing, one second his tongue is on my clit, the next it's buried in me and it's all too damn much. It's all licks and kisses and bites and tongue and teeth and I've waited so long for him that I can't help it. I am cumming harder than I ever have in my life and I'm screaming his name so loud it hurts my throat.

"God Izz you taste so fucking good, it makes me so fucking hard knowing I make you this wet." I snap out of it; this is a two-person party and I'm just not doing my part. Before he realizes what's happening he's on his back and I'm tugging at the button of his jeans. I slide mine the rest of the way off with my feet as I'm pulling his off and I realize he's not wearing any underwear. This thought is secondary though, my first thought is that I need to build a monument to this cock, it's fucking perfect. And mine, Jesus, he's really mine.

Before I can think anymore I move up his legs and lick him from his balls to his head before sucking his cock into my mouth as far as it will go. I hear him moan and I am more proud in that moment than I ever have been. I pull my mouth up slowly, sucking hard and steady and focus for just a second on the head before sliding back down. Just as I'm getting into this he grabs my hair and pulls my head off his cock. I give him a puzzled look and he just pulls me up by my arms to straddle his waist.

"If you sucked me one second longer I would have cum like a teenager, and that just won't fucking do. I need to be buried in you before that happens." Shit, I can't help but groan at that thought and all of a sudden I'm on his cock. I don't even know how he lifted my hips or any of the mechanics of it, all I know is that I'm so filled up right now with him, and it's the most amazing feeling.

"Fuck Edward, fuck, it's so fucking good." I start sliding up and down his cock, trying to get some kind of rhythm.

"Goddamn it Izz, it's so fucking perfect, you feel perfect." I need more, I feel that knot start to tighten and I need to fucking cum so badly. I start to ride him harder and faster, but it's not enough. I sit back a little more and his cock brushes against my g-spot sending me into a fucking frenzy.

"Fuck Edward, I need to cum…I…" His hand snakes down to my clit while I'm slamming my body down on his cock and I'm so damn close.

"Fucking cum Izz, I want to feel your pussy clench on my cock, I want to feel you cum on my dick…" Well now he done did it.

"Fuck Edward!" That's all I can get out, I'm trembling on him, my whole body is clenching and unclenching and it's never ending. He keeps thrusting up into me and all of a sudden I feel him tense under me.

"Shit Izz, I'm fucking cumming!" And I feel him cum inside of me as I start coming down from my high. I can't hold myself up anymore, I collapse on his chest and he winces. I realize, I just inked him not an hour ago and that has to be sore. I move to get off of him, but he just wraps me up and pulls me closer on his chest.

"Don't think you're getting away that fucking easy Izz. I just got a hold of you, I'm not letting you go." And the waterworks begin for the third time today. But this is different, this is just an overflow of all the emotions I'm feeling now, and it's nothing short of fucking spectacular.