Um. So, this was originally a prompt for the TwiKinkFest. I thought it was a little out there, but had the potential to be super-hot and interesting. I wrote it, and fearing it would completely squick people out, I posted it anonymously.

Much to my surprise, the response was nice. Like, really nice. Like, kinda made me cry nice.

So, thanks to some encouragement from some lovely people, I'm outing myself.

Be warned, though, vanilla readers: this is some serious business weird smut, and may not be for everyone. That said, it's an E/B love story through and through. A really dirty, kinky E/B love story. Involving cuckolding.

Yeah.

So if that's not your thing, you might want to turn around now.

As always, Stephenie Meyer owns these characters. I just really doubt she'd be willing to own anything they're about to do.

Prompt: Cockold! Edward has a fetish for watch Bella fuck other men. James/Bella.

Rating: MA/NC-17

Content Warnings: Unprotected sex. Sex with more than one person (M/F only).

(told in alternating B/E POVs)

They say that if you love someone, you'll do anything for him. As I stare down the man across from me, I try to remind myself of that.

He looks much the same as the first time I met him. He looks good. Sexy. Dirty blond hair, tied back, away from his face. Full lips and a thickly muscled body. In leather and denim, he looks like something from another world, a different one from the one I usually inhabit. There it's tweed and lace. This… this is something else entirely.

His lips turn up into a leering smile, intimating all kinds of things. It's like he can see through me, to the deepest parts of my psyche - through my clothes and through my body to pebbled breasts, wetness hot between my legs. He looks like he wants to consume me.

Tonight he'll get his chance.

"Well, look at what we have here." His voice carries the slightest hint of a growl, something feral and heavy.

I remind myself I want this. I agreed. After seven years of making love, of feeling cherished and revered, I want this. It want it dark. I want it rough. Dirty.

His eyes narrow, cold blue shining like crystal.

Predator, my body screams. He's a predator.

I take a step toward him. He smiles.

In a moment of doubt, I cast one last look at the other pair of eyes in the room. Deep and green, they're filled with vulnerability, with something just a little bit desperate and pleading.

I can never resist him when he begs.

I nod and he exhales in relief.

They say that if you love someone, you'll do anything for him.

I just never imagined that what my husband would ask of me would be to have sex with another man.

# # #

It's the tiniest of gestures. Just a nod. And yet it's everything. Hard and wanting, I stand back, slump up against the wall and palm myself. It should be shameful, to be so needy. But I've wanted this for so long. Years.

And in the end, I always thought she'd turn me down.

I still don't know how it started. Maybe when she danced with my brother at our wedding. Maybe it was from something I'd seen in porn. However it began, it's finally going to end. Here.

He leers, as certain now as I am that this is really about to happen. With a swagger I could never manage, he takes another step toward her and stops, hand out in invitation. He's going to make her come to him.

He's going to make her come.

James is not the kind of person I'd be friends with, not the man I'd trust to take care of my wife were she in danger. He lives hard, drinks harder. Likes it rough and fast. Or so he told me when I asked him.

But he's here. He's the opposite of me and all my shyness. Per mutual agreement, he's been tested, shown us proof positive he's clean.

And I can't wait to watch him fuck my wife.

Neither can she, it seems. With a sexy self-assuredness she so rarely shows around me, she crosses those last couple feet, puts her hand into his palm.

He doesn't hesitate to take it. Gripping hard, he pulls her into him, slams her chest against his own and wraps his other hand around her head. He crashes his lips down onto hers, and I moan. It looks so good, this commanding sort of kiss. He moves her body around, puts her exactly where he wants her. There's a hard push of tongue and her back arching as he skims one hand down her side. Tweaks the tip of her breast.

Her tit. He'd call it her tit.

"Open up, baby," he tells her, and she does. She opens her legs, her arms, her mouth.

For my part, alone and aching on the sidelines… I open my pants.

# # #

In all my life, I have never been kissed like this.

It's hard and possessive, his tongue hot in my mouth. James tastes like flesh and man, all sex and command. He knows what he wants. And he's going to take it.

I surrender fully, give in and let him have it, but I don't go limp. There's a part of him that wants a fight, I think, something to push back against, and the feeling of being wanted like this – even if it's just for my body – makes me bold. This man will never know me. Will never understand my own fears or the shaking in my soul.

And so I can show him something more.

As James picks me up and walks me down the hall, I hear a low, whimpering moan. Edward is leaning up against the wall beside the door where James came in, his hand inside his pants, touching flesh. His eyes look hungrier than I have ever seen before.

"Please," he mouths.

Anything.

Gaze locked intently with my husband's, I lean forward, sink my teeth into James' neck. Edward's eyes roll back in his head.

He follows us through the house. James grunts out occasional questions, asking which way to go to get to our bedroom. I shiver, unable to believe he'd be so bold as to fuck me in our marriage bed. But then again, Edward probably asked him to.

I land on my back in the middle of the mattress, and a second later James' body covers mine. His erection is huge and hard inside his jeans. He grinds it into me as he reclaims my mouth. This time, he kisses with teeth. It hurts and it feels good, and when he moves on to my throat, all I can think is that he's going to leave marks.

Of course he's going to leave marks.

And then his mouth is gone. I follow his eyes to the other side of the room where my husband sits in shadow, his fly open and his hand on his cock through his jeans as he stares.

"You like this?" James asks as he pulls off his leather coat. "Like watching me with your wife?"

"God, yes."

"What do you want me to do? Eat her out? Make her suck me? Fuck her?"

Edward whimpers. "Yes. All of it."

"You hear that, Princess?" James' eyes are feral and back on me. "Hear what your pussy of a man wants to see me do to you?"

I want to protest, to tell him Edward's sensitive. But Edward's moaning. He likes this.

He loves this.

"Yeah," I choke out. I try to keep my voice strong. "Show him how it's done."

James winks and hooks his fingers in my dress. "With pleasure."

# # #

The hungry gleam in his eyes is mostly for her, but I know it's also meant for me. When I approached him online, he told me that was part of it – that he loves this sort of thing as much to get the sex as to emasculate the husband. To feel like the big man in the scene. He wants to make a cuckold of me.

The word chafes, but as hard as I am, I know that's what I am.

There's a sound of ripping from the bed, and I look up to see my wife's shocked face, cheeks flushed with arousal and maybe just a little bit of fear. James hovers over her, tattered remnants of her dress gripped in his hand. He pulls it down further, until her breasts are revealed. Then he attacks them with his mouth.

Soft, round and ripe, how many times I've worshipped them. Caressed and kissed. To see him nipping and sucking, squeezing roughly…

I can barely breathe. I've never been this hard.

I hear the words before I realize I've spoken. "Bite them."

He does me one better, pushes the cups of her bra down and sucks one peak and then the other deep into his mouth. When he switches, I see the marks, a bloom of a bruise and the indentations of teeth.

Bella lets out a sound I've never heard before, and suddenly there's something else there with the need inside my chest. Jealousy, hot and mean, rears its head.

I want her to make that noise for me.

"Oh, yeah, you like that don't you?" he asks, then sinks his teeth once more into creamy, pale flesh. I don't know if he's talking to her or to me.

Bella groans again and parts her thighs. He cups her pussy, shoves up the hem of her dress. And I see red.

But there's nothing I can do. Nothing.

"Yeah, you do." He rises up onto his knees, straddles her shoulder. "But don't worry, Princess."

He unzips his pants and I hold my breath.

"Can't you tell I like it, too?"

# # #

All my self-assuredness evaporates as James takes out his cock and aims it at my head. This is real. So real.

And he's huge. Even bigger than my husband, and back in the day, I used to think he was a monster. The biggest I'd ever seen.

Until now.

Fat and swollen, uncut and dripping pre-cum, he holds it at the base and smears the tip against my lips. "See how hard you made me?"

I go to answer, but there's no breath, no time, before his hand is cradling my head. He pushes himself inside, and my eyes water.

I'm really here. Debauched, ruined dress pulled to my ribs with my tits sticking out and a cock inside my mouth. And it's not my husband's.

I'm sucking the cock of another man.

"That's it, baby. Nice and deep."

He thrust his hips, and I'm both surprised and grateful when he doesn't gag me. Still, he's fucking my face. In and out, and I'm fighting to breathe, my tongue thick with the taste of pre-cum and my eyes wet with tears. In a panic, I glance to the side to see my Edward just sitting there. He looks rapt and angry and aroused. Desperate.

"God, but she's got a hot little mouth. Such a good cock-sucker, aren't you?"

Something in me wants to nod.

I hope Edward's not as disgusted with me as I am with myself. For being here. For liking it.

I hope he'll still want me when we're done.

Without warning, James pulls himself from my mouth, grabs my chin and forces my gaze up to him. "But as good as that mouth is, it's not what I want." He puts his hand between my legs again, and I close my eyes, it feels so good.

"You know what I want, don't you, slut?"

# # #

Oh God, she is.

My perfect, beautiful, sweet wife. His slut.

I can't contain myself, and with a groan, I pull myself out of my pants, hissing at the cool air against my heated, needy flesh. He shoves her dress the rest of the way up to her waist and I take my first, slow stroke over myself. It feels good, better than I ever imagined. To be touching myself, cast away, watching another man ravage my wife.

Our eyes connect, and I don't know if I've ever loved her more.

Even in this state – especially in this state – she looks amazing. Sexy and wanton and bad. I want to be with her that way, to take and spread her open, to rut on her like the animal that, in this moment, I am.

A beta, waiting for the alpha to finish.

He holds her legs open and takes a deep, hard breath. From here, I can see her panties are soaked. I bet he can smell her.

"You wet for me, baby?"

She whimpers, but he won't have it.

He slaps her ass, makes her grunt. "Answer me."

Her eyes are tortured as they swing to me, but when he spanks her again, she turns her gaze up to the ceiling, clenches her hands into fits and groans out, "Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, I'm…wet." She spits the word.

"For who?"

"For you."

Of course she is.

"Good girl," he mumbles, and then his fingers are stroking, touching soft flesh through slick silk.

And I'm dying. I'm dying.

"I bet you taste so sweet, baby. Want me to find out?"

Bella's eyes snap down to meet his.

I'm the only one who's ever done that for her. Waiting for her answer, I slow my strokes on my own pained length and hold my breath.

"Yes."

# # #

I can't even look at my husband anymore. James slides soaked fabric down my legs, and then I'm bare for him. Wet and achy.

"Look at that," James says, a low growl. He puts his lips to my knee and bites his way toward my center, each inch taking him closer to where I want him to go. He slips his fingers through my flesh and sinks his teeth into my inner thigh. "Look at the pretty little pussy."

The high-pitched noise in my throat surprises me. I'm even more surprised at the first wash of hot breath against the apex of my need.

"That husband of yours ever eat your pussy?"

"Yes." I close my eyes and nod vigorously. It's my favorite thing. My favorite thing Edward does for me. He's all soft strokes and sweet kisses against my lips, gentle tongue and so soft. So, so soft.

"Well, let's see if we can teach him something new."

And then his mouth is on me. And nothing about it is soft.

"Oh," I groan. "Jesus."

James is hard lips and his mouth fit full against my sex, big fingers inside, and I'm spiraling. Spinning so hard. Without thinking, I thread my hands into his hair, pulling him harder into me, but he pulls back just as quickly.

"Christ, man," he says, looking over his shoulder at the man in the shadows. "She's a spitfire. She almost pulled out my hair out."

"Please," I beg.

"Fucking bitch in heat." James twists his fingers inside me, fucks them deep into my core. "You must not be giving it to her hard enough. After me, she's not going to walk right for a week."

I may not. With that, he puts his mouth back on my flesh, and I'm gone, a writhing mass of absolute need, kicking and screaming as I peak.

"You say my name when you come for me, you hear, slut?"

I nod. Anything.

Seconds later, I make good on my word. It erupts me from the way the rest of my body does. Uncontrolled. Frenetic.

"James! Fuck. James!"

# # #

The first hot spurt of come hits my stomach the instant she cries his name.

His name. Not mine.

Pulsing, sad and shameful in my hand, I watch her face, her eyes, her hands as she yanks his hair and pulls his head into her sex, legs clamping hard.

"Does it feel good, Bella?" I choke, still coming, spasming roughly in my fist.

She rocks back and forth, whimpering, "Yes. So good. So good."

I milk another pale ribbon of come from myself before I finally let go.

Releasing her grip on his his hair, Bella relaxes, slumps back on the bed. James pulls his face back from her pussy and swipes the side of his hand across his wet, slick lips. He chuckles, tilting his head so he's talking both to her and to me.

"Just think how much better it'll be when it's my cock."

Even spent, I twitch.

While both Bella and I recover, James is on the move. He tugs her bra down her arms and slides her dress the rest of the way off of her, then throws it blindly toward me. I catch it, hold the fabric to my nose and breath their mingling scents. Soft and sweet. Sweaty and male.

Still sensitive, I use the balled-up remains of it to wipe the come from my skin.

Now it'll smell like us three.

When he starts to remove his own clothes, I twist my fingers in the fabric of the dress, holding on for dear life. His black Oxford hits the floor, followed by a T-shirt. Dressed in only skin and a cross, his upper body is all muscle.

Unlike mine.

A hot flash of inadequacy joins the jealousy, the arousal and the heat. It's a tangle of emotions that I don't know how to deal with, ones I've been living with for most of my adult life. I've never felt like I've been good enough for her.

Now we're just taking it to greater heights.

He shoves his jeans lower on his hips and takes himself in hand. That giant cock of his may rip my wife in half. May ruin her forever, turn her off of a man like me.

Sure enough, he dips to slide the head between her slick, flush lips. Circles her clit.

Bare.

He's going to fuck her bare.

I asked for it, and still it's awakening something primal in me.

And yet I couldn't be more tethered to this chair if I was bound.

"You ready for this, Princess?"

She only moans.

"You better be." He probes. Gives her just the tip. "Because after this, you're never gonna want another man."

# # #

I'll always want Edward. Always.

And yet, as James pushes, pushes pushes inside, I can almost see what he means. He takes my legs and swings them up, places one ankle on each shoulder and starts to thrust. The angle seems awkward, but then I look and see. He's shifting my body to give my husband a better view.

"Oh God," Edward moans. "You're really in there, aren't you?"

"Better believe it." James grunts as he bottoms out, and I brace my hands above my head, crying out. I feel so full. So used. "Goddamn, she's tight. Like she's never really been fucked, man."

It's humiliating. For both of us. For me to be here panting, loving the way he's pounding into me. For Edward, being told he's less of a man.

And yet he moans. "Fuck her. God, fuck her hard."

"That's the only way I do it."

I am one long groan, the relentless rhythm of his cock driving into me. Rough and raw, stretched hard, it's like nothing I've ever felt before. Unlike a cherished flower, loved inside my husband's arms, I feel like a slut. Like something sturdy enough to take it.

I like that this man knows I won't break.

James hoists me higher on his hips, forces my back to arch, and with my legs up on his shoulders, I have no leverage, no way to push back against his thrusts. I reach my hand toward my clit, but he pushes it away.

"I know what you need, baby."

A second later, his thumb is just where I'd have put it, low circles on my clit, and I can feel the pressure building.

"That's it. Yeah. Come all over my cock."

My eyes shoot to my husband's, to his tortured eyes and his fingers in his mouth. He's leaning forward, like he's in pain. With the hand that James won't let me use to touch myself, I reach for Edward, my hand straining in the air.

It's his voice this time, urging me. "Don't you wanna come for him? Don't you like him fucking you?"

I close my eyes, and it's over. I tumble off the edge, burning up until there's nothing left.

When I come back to myself, he's just fucking me harder, twisting me and shifting both my legs to one side of his head.

"So tight. So good," he groans. "Can I come inside her, man?"

He already knows he can. But he's going to make him say it anyway.

Edward's voice is tight with his plea. "Yes. Fill her."

"It'll be coming out of her nose. I'm gonna bust it so hard. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck."

And then he does.

# # #

If I hadn't come already, I could right now. Untouched. As it is, I'm back to being painfully hard. He closes his eyes and keeps thrusting through it. At this angle, I can see the spasms as his body releases, leaving me no doubt.

He's filling her with his come.

"Jesus," I curse. "Oh, Jesus." I double over, press my fist against my crotch.

I need to be touched so badly.

I need her to still want me.

He slaps her ass and then let her legs slide down his arm, sets them on the bed beside his knees. He keeps her thighs clasped tight together, though. Keeps her full of him.

"Thanks, babe."

Without another look back at her beautiful, naked form, he steps off the bed and turns to me. He jerks his thumb at the bed and pulls up his pants. Still slick with her juices, he tucks himself away. "She's all yours, man. What's left of her, that is."

He picks up the rest of his clothes but doesn't bother to get dressed. Not here. He's already on his way to the door by the time I reach the bed, extending my hand without the faintest hint of a prayer.

I touch her skin, and she doesn't pull away.

"Oh my God," she chants. "Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God." Her eyes are tightly closed, and her hands cover the bottom of her face.

"Bella. Bella, sweetheart."

She groans, loud and pained. "You must think I'm such a slut. If you don't want-"

"You have never been more beautiful to me. Never."

It's true. Well-fucked and ravished and wearing another man's marks, she's radiant. Giving.

She gave this to me.

My hand trembles on her thigh. "God, I want you so much."

Her eyes open wide. They shine. "Even after—"

"Especially." I slide my palm up to her hip. "Can I?"

Her legs splay open in a silent invitation, and what I see there takes my breath away.

"Oh, God."

My whole center aches, a sharp, sudden pain, need so acute it cannot be contained.

One slow drip of come flows from her sex, a heavy white mess of it.

"I need to fuck you, Bella. Please. Please, I need it."

# # #

Never, not once in seven years of marriage, has Edward ever referred to what we are about to do as fucking.

I reach out for him, search blindly with my hand til it connects with his. Boneless as I am, I pull him toward me until I kiss his lips. I wrap my hand around his cock and swallow his moan.

Against his breath, I whisper, "Take off your clothes."

He tears them off without hesitation, then presses his body into mine. Hard and needy, he slides himself through my lips, puts pressure on my clit without pressing inside. "So wet," he babbles. "God, you're so wet. He's leaking out of you."

And suddenly, I don't feel ashamed. He wanted this.

Conflicted as he may have looked throughout, he still does.

"You like that?" I ask. "Like knowing I'm full of another man's come?"

His mouth is hard on mine, so much harder than it's ever been before. "I love it. I love you. Thank you."

I never thought I'd be able to move again after the way James fucked me, thought I'd need days to recover. Apparently, I only needed minutes.

I'm ready for Edward. Ready for him to make me his.

I grab his hip and pull. "Get in me already."

He hesitates. "Can I?" He taps my hip and swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing hard. "From behind?"

It's always been his least comfortable position.

Lifting up, he makes space for me to turn over, and I do. Lift up onto my knees so I'm on all fours before him.

Another flow of come slides down my leg.

Edward's groan is so guttural, so pained. He slips a finger through the mess and slicks it on his own hard dick. The next thing I know, he's bracing his hands on my hips, kicking my knees farther apart.

And then he's in me.

# # #

So good. So good.

Wet and filthy, smelling like sex and like another man, she groans my name as I fill her, thrust into her with all I'm worth. It's soft and wet, so wet, his come sliding all over me. I push into her, over and over, crazed with need, half here, inside her, and half still in that chair, desperate and twisted up and so damn turned on.

"Did you like it when he fucked you, Bella? When he called you a slut?"

"Yeah. Oh. But not as much as you. Fuck, Edward."

I collapse over the top of her, push my hands into the mattress and feel her spine flush with my chest. My balls slap against her, wet with his come and with her liquid, reminding me with every hard push into her body that I'm not the first. That she's sloppy seconds and that I'm the fool. The one who'll never be good enough for her.

But still the one she wants.

My voice cracks. "Will you be my slut?"

"Yes." Her answer is a scream. She falls forward, her arms giving out until it's her face buried into the mattress, and she's coming. God, she's coming.

"I love you, baby," I groan. "Love you, love you, love you."

Unable to hold on another second, I pour myself into her, my essence blending with the mess already there inside her, my seed just one of many fighting for the right to fill her.

And when I pull out, rolling to the side with her so tightly in my arms, she's dripping with the both of us.

But she belongs to me alone.

# # #

We lie there like that for the longest time, not speaking, just breathing. But for all that my body is limp and lifeless, my mind is spinning, flashes of what I've done bursting bright across my vision.

Slut.

My slut.

In the moment, even when I knew what we were doing was wrong, I enjoyed it. But now…

Just as the panic starts to spiral, though, Edward has to go and do something so…Edward.

With his arm crossed over my chest, he rubs his fingertips in circles on my collarbone, a gesture so simple, so loving. Whispering a trail of kisses to my ear, he asks quietly, gently, "Are you okay?"

I nod, still incapable of speech.

Louder, his voice shaking, he asks again, "Really? Are you really all right?"

Wincing, I turn inside his arms to face him, fearful of what I will see. Only he looks as scared as me.

Pressed against him, naked and exhausted, I lift my hand to place it on his cheek. And then he smiles at me, his face lit with hope and with love.

And we are the same. We are exactly the people we have always been.

"Yes. I'm all right." And I am. I know that we will be all right, too. I hesitate, gazing at him with concern and remembering how he looked at me from the other side of the room. "Are you?"

"Yes," he answers gruffly, tightening his arms around me. With a soft kiss against my lips, he breathes, "I love you. So much. And I know you did that for me."

"Because I love you."

He buries his face against my neck and holds me close. "Thank you. Thank you."

We say little else, content in our silence for the moment. Eventually, he helps me stand and we make our way to the bathroom. Beneath a hot spray, he washes the sweat and sex and come from me, kisses my clit and my breasts and my mouth. Kisses the marks another man left on me.

When he asked me to do this for him, he couldn't tell me why he wanted it. Just that he did. That it fueled his fantasies. And that while he could live without it, there was a part of him that needed it.

Seeing him now, I understand anew how much that's true.

In the morning, I wake with his body wrapped around mine, possessive in a way he rarely is. And it feels good. I shift to look at him and find him staring down, as reverent as ever but with an edge of hunger that's strange. Different. New.

That sharpness lingers in his kiss, in his lack of reaction when I slip my leg around his hips and wince. Side by side, we make love with an intensity we haven't mustered in so long.

And that's when I know. Not only will we be all right.

But after seven years of marriage, our adventure has really only just begun.