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A/N: Strae beta'd and prompted, show her some love!
How to Turn a Straight Guy Gay
Part 13
If I was a cum fiend, then Edward was a butt fingering fiend. I swear he just started sticking his fingers up my ass so I would return the favor. Christ, he couldn't get enough. I was using muscles in my hands that I never even knew existed and my fingers are too sore to even draw these days. There isn't a blowjob he gets that isn't accompanied by some form of ass play.
I'm able to fit three fingers in him now, and Christ, does he get horny and loud when I'm three fingers deep in his ass. You can't even imagine what it does to me when he's beside himself begging me to give him my cock and telling me how full he feels.
I'm not going to be able to listen to that shit much longer before I give in. My only concern is that he's still not as ready as he says he is. Even though he's been fingering me nearly as much as I've been doing him, he still has made no move whatsoever to actually 'make love' with me—to me. I don't know if he thinks that maybe I'm not ready or what, but I'm starting to get a little agitated. I'm ready to just buy a goddamn dildo and make love to myself. I'm craving the cock extra bad these days and every time he finger fucks me, it just gets that much worse.
He's definitely not bad at the finger-fucking thing either. His fingers are fucking long and extra fucking dexterous. To want more than his very nimble fingers is a true testament to how badly I need his cock. I fucking need it.
I'm so not willing to push him, though, so I don't say a damn thing while he fingers me and sucks me off. He's grown much better at the whole blowjob thing as well. He's learned how fucking serious I was when I told him that deep-throating is overrated. There's no more relentless gagging, though he still does gag a little on occasion. Maybe it's just me, but I think it's kind of cute. He gets so embarrassed when he gags, and we all fucking know how I love it when he blushes. You can imagine how much I love it when he blushes with my cock in his mouth.
Unf.
I just don't fucking get why he isn't moving any further. Is he afraid of putting his cock in my love tunnel? He sure as hell isn't worried about putting his fingers in there. I'm terrified that he still thinks I might leave after he does it, but I have no idea how to reassure him anymore. The simple truth is that I can't fucking leave him. He's as significant to me as my heart, there's no way in hell I can be without him. I tell him how much I love him all the fucking time, but I don't know, maybe he still doesn't trust me enough.
I understand why he has trust issues. His father is a real fucking piece of work. Edward has certainly opened up to me in more ways than one recently. The more I learn about his home life, the more I understand why exactly he is the way he is. Part of it is just personality, true, but the distrust, the fear, those are all products of his fucked up family.
He played the piano for me again and let me sit on his bench next to him while he played and told me the story of how he learned and why he didn't play much anymore. I had assumed that maybe it was because music was the career choice he had wanted for himself, while everyone else had pushed him to be a lawyer, but that wasn't even the half of it.
His mother taught him to play piano and encouraged him through the early part of his life to do whatever made him happy. It was clear that even now music is what made him happy. But when Edward turned thirteen—just thirteen fucking years old—he'd been ripped away from his mother, never to see her again.
When I asked him what happened to her, his exact words were: "Baby, what do very rich men do with people they want out of their life?"
He found it hilarious when I freaked out, hugging him and apologizing, nearly in tears for the hurt he had gone through because of his prick father. I couldn't for the life of me figure out why the fuck he was laughing. No one laughs about their mother's death.
He explained that his father paid her off, not murdered her. He said she sometimes sent him letters and shit, but they were always through buffers and he didn't have a clue where she actually lived. He didn't know why it was that his father was so adamant about the fact that he never see his mother again, but he assumed it was pride, or some other fucking selfish feeling the arrogant bastard had that would make him believe it was okay to take a thirteen-year-old boy away from his mother.
He told me that Esme basically raised him, which really made sense considering how maternal and caring she seemed, especially for him. Carlisle worked a lot, and though he was away more than at home, he still managed to spend more time fathering Edward than Ed Senior did. As much as Esme nurtured Edward, shit still wasn't okay for him. His father was a fucking prick. His wicked, evil step mother was also a fucking prick. In my opinion, Carlisle turned out fucking stellar considering who his parents were.
Basically, Edward got the short end of the family stick. It really makes me fucking happy that I grew up with two stable parents who accepted me for who I was, despite having their beliefs. I would much rather have grown up in poverty with two loving parents than have had all the money in the world and such fucked up individuals as parents. Thank God for Esme.
I told him a little about my family. About being an only child, and my parents, and growing up poor. I told him that they know I'm gay and that they are very supportive for the most part. We mostly don't talk about it a lot, because they are slightly religious and I try to keep our lives separate so they won't have to feel uncomfortable. I tell him about being raised in Texas, I even tell him a little more about Peter because he was such a huge part of my life. Needless to say, Edward is not a Peter fan.
Sometimes we just start talking to each other and the hours fly by. We tend to get lost in the little world we created for ourselves and we talk until we're tired. It still nearly brings me to the point of tears to realize that I have someone now. Someone who loves me and whom I love back, regardless of wealth, fucked up family, or any other baggage he has. He's the person I feel I can share anything with and know he won't judge me. I've never had that before. Emmett probably could have been that person, but I never wanted him to be, which made all the world of difference. I wanted Edward, he's my person, my soul, my whole fucking life. I'd do anything for him.
– – –
"Oh, come the fuck on," Emmett curses at my TV, waving a bottle of beer around.
Game's on. I guess I'm socializing. I don't really know, Emmett just came over and insisted that we watch the game. Edward's at work and I'm fidgeting because I know he's going to be calling soon. Emmett and I don't really spend time alone together anymore, this is the first time since Edward and I have made it solidly official that we're a couple. I don't want him to freak out, but I think maybe he can handle this. I hope.
I take my phone with me into the kitchen when it starts to ring. I take a deep breath before answering. "Hey, baby," I greet.
"Hey, love. Can I come over?"
I smile, swirling a puddle of soda can sweat around the counter with my finger. "Of course, baby, you know you don't have to ask."
"I know," he sighs. "I've had a really shitty day, I just need you right now. Is that okay?"
"Of course, Edward, but—"
"Mm, be naked for me? I fucking want you so bad right now. All I could think about all day was having you in my mouth, being with you in bed, watching you cum for me," he murmurs.
My face heats and I immediately begin to harden. "Edward," I start to say, my voice definitely more husky than it was a second ago.
I pause and he urges, "Yeah, baby?"
"Yes! Yes! Come on, harder! Yes!" Emmett screams from my living room.
All the air in my lungs whooshes out of me in one stolen breath and our moment is gone, ruined. I close my eyes and wait for it, whatever it is that's coming. There is silence on Edward's end of the phone, except his breathing, which I can hear blowing rather harshly through his nose.
"Was that Emmett?" he asks finally. I can hear the control in his voice, he's forcing himself to be calm. We both know he wants to yell right now, but I commend him for trying to be okay.
"Yes. He wanted to come over to watch the game. I thought it would be okay, but I guess I should have told him no," I say. Had I known that Edward was already having a bad day, I would have told Emmett to wait for another time, but he had seemed fine earlier when I talked to him. Something must have happened...
"I'll be there in a few," Edward replies before the line goes dead.
My stomach is in knots while I stand there, trying to decide what to do. The game isn't even close to being over and trying to convince Emmett to leave now would be like trying to convince a grizzly that you are not his dinner. Pointless and only asking to be attacked by something much larger than yourself.
I guess I will have to take the brunt of this. Emmett is not going to leave and Edward obviously is not going to be happy about him being here, and of course that's my fucking fault.
I don't know how to deal with his jealousy. It's not that he doesn't trust me, because I do think he trusts me, some at least, but I think when presented with a situation like this, he lets the jealousy take over. I don't think he knows how to not be jealous, and I don't know how to fucking handle it.
Relationships are so fucking hard. But I'll do anything to keep my relationship with Edward, even if that means taking his anger calmly when it's not my fucking fault. I'll do what I have to do.
I'm lost with worry and anxiety when I go back to the living room. I don't even see the television or Emmett while I'm sitting on the couch waiting for him, I'm so fucking nervous that I just blankly stare out the window.
"He has to get over it, Jasper," Emmett says knowingly, obviously catching on to my anxiety.
"I know," I hear myself answer, tucking my knees up into my chest. "He had a bad day though and now this..."
"Oh, come on, Jazz, he's always going to have some excuse for why you can't spend time with me. You can't let him pull this shit every time. Have a backbone, don't let him walk all over you."
"I don't want to fight," I mutter.
"So don't. Tell him you love him, he has nothing to worry about. He fucking knows that, just keep reminding him and he'll get over this eventually."
"You could be a little less fucking abrasive toward him. Did you really have to fucking say 'yes, harder'? I think you try to get me in trouble."
Emmett shrugs. "He has to get over it," he says simply. "Stop being such a pussy now or fucking risk exploding on him in the future." He smirks. "And not in the good way. Is this really how you want to spend your whole life with him? Do you think this is healthy, you being that nervous because you're afraid of him?"
"I'm not afraid of him, I'm afraid of losing him, Emm, fuck. And no, I don't necessarily like it that I have to feel this way, but what am I supposed to do? I have given him no reason to be upset with me or to be jealous, but that doesn't seem to matter."
"Stop sitting there like an abused little bitch and stand up for yourself."
I take a deep breath and sigh, un-tucking from my previously submissive ball of angst. I don't plan on being confrontational with Edward, but Emmett is right, Edward really needs to get past this. He needs to learn to trust me with another man. I'm not a cheater and I never have been, despite my questionable past.
I'm still nervous, but I at least try to hide it now. He would have ate me alive if he found me sitting there all guilty-like. Damn Emmett, he's right again. I have nothing to be worried about, I haven't done anything wrong. Except maybe ruin the love of my life's day, which makes me sad and anxious, because I don't like it when he's upset.
"Shit," I gasp suddenly. "Emmett, go move your car. Now."
"No," he says firmly, not moving his eyes off the TV.
"Yes, fucking now or get the fuck out and don't come back."
"Fuck you, I'm watching the game. He can park on the street."
I stand up and loom over Emmett, really fucking angry. "My boyfriend is not parking on the street. That is his motherfucking parking spot. Go move your fucking hunk of junk onto the street or so help me God, I'm going to fucking rip your nuts off and make you watch me feed them to your boyfriend."
"Jesus," he mutters. "Fine. Christ." He stands and starts to make his way down the hall. "You're such a bitch," I hear him mumble.
"Excuse me?" I ask.
"Nothing," he replies quickly, scooting forward faster.
I feel pretty badass. I scared Emmett. Haha.
He moves his car out onto the street and just as he makes it back inside and to the couch, Edward pulls in. I'm feeling much better now that he has his parking spot. Emmett taking his parking spot is not cool, especially considering Edward's unreasonable attachment to his car.
I don't know what to do. Should I go greet him at the door, tell him how much I've fucking missed him all day—because I really have—or will that be overkill and make him think I'm sucking up? Is waiting on the couch for him to come to me too undermining though?
Fuck my life, I hate how complicated this all is.
By the time I hear Edward open the front door, it's obviously too late to meet him there, so on a whim I jump up and head for the kitchen, grabbing two beers from the fridge. His hand is shoved in his hair when he walks past the doorway from the hall to the kitchen and though he doesn't notice me, I can see the tension and nerves in him, and it breaks my fucking heart. I just want him to trust me, to be confident that I wouldn't ever fucking leave him. I peer around the corner of the doorway and watch him as he stands there with his head tilted back and his hand rubbing over his face. After a moment, he rolls his neck and tries to fix his hair and shirt and my stomach clenches into knots again because he's trying to hide the fact that he's freaking out.
He walks into the living room and I head back out of the kitchen the way I came in. "Where's Jasper?" I hear Edward ask Emmett.
Emmett doesn't answer. He zones out sometimes while watching TV, though—he doesn't even hear you when he's 'in the zone'. "I'm right here, baby," I say, sliding up behind him to kiss the back of his neck while I reach around his side to hand him his beer. "Brought you a beer."
He takes the beer and turns around, keeping himself close to me. "Thank you," he says, slipping his hand around my neck to pull my mouth to his.
The kiss is tentative, I think both of us are a little unsure of each other right now. I sigh, because he's kissing me and that's a good sign and he takes advantage of my parted lips by darting his tongue inside. I am just barely able to respond by flicking my tongue against his before he pulls away.
He tilts his head down and I watch rather greedily as he licks his lips—I want to lick his lips for him. He then bites his bottom lip and his cheeks turn a little pink and I realize that he's looking up at me through his eyelashes.
I force myself to fall back into the couch before I can do something naughty. And I will do something naughty if he looks at me like that again. That shit fucking kills me.
He sits down next to me, hesitantly moving closer. When I wrap my arm over his shoulder, he slides in as close as he can get, snuggling right into my side.
"Missed you," he murmurs, nuzzling my neck.
Fuck. Me. "I missed you too, baby," I reply, taking a sip of my beer, then setting it onto the coffee table.
He follows suit, taking a drink before setting his bottle down. When he leans back into me, his mouth is on my neck, kissing and licking, right there, where I can hardly stand it, it feels so good. My eyes roll back into my head and I fight back a moan.
"You taste..." He moves up towards my ear, licking and nibbling along, making me shiver. "...so good."
He shifts his body slightly, pushing his hips forward, against me, and I feel him hard against my hip. He feels really fucking hard. I'm not expecting that so I turn my head to look at him a little incredulously.
"All day," he whispers, leaning in to kiss me.
Oh, fuck. He's been horny all goddamn day. My poor boy.
I slide my hand down onto his back and urge him closer to me. He climbs into my lap, straddling me, and I squeeze his ass and pulling him against me while he leans in, kissing me like his life fucking depends on it. His cock is so fucking hard against my stomach, I push him into me, creating friction for him and he moans, pushing harder. I need to get him out of these pants.
"Okay, seriously, I'm still here," Emmett grumbles.
Fuck. Emmett. How is it even possible that I completely forgot he was sitting there?
Edward growls quietly and pulls his mouth away from my now unmoving one.
"If I wanted to watch porn, I wouldn't have the game on, boys. Get a room or stop distracting me."
"Go home to watch the fucking game," Edward snaps at him.
"The game has already started," Emmett yells back at him, looking astonished that Edward would suggest such a thing.
Edward grinds his teeth, then leans in close to my ear, moaning just loud enough for me to hear as he rubs his dick on my stomach.
Jesus motherfucking Christ, help me.
"Can we please go into your room?" he begs.
I nod and he stands almost instantaneously, pulling me up off the couch after him, then practically drags me to my bedroom.
He pushes me inside first then turns around to shut the double doors. He pauses and I watch confusedly as he takes a moment to stare out at Emmett before finally shutting the doors. Everything had been rush, rush, rush, but he sure took his time there.
He's smirking when he turns around, which only makes me more suspicious. He steps toward me and I take a step back, trying to figure out what his little hidden agenda is. He cocks his head to the side and steps toward me again, but I move away again.
"What the fuck was that?" I ask, putting my hand out to stop him as he tries to reach forward and grab me while he takes a step forward.
"What?" he asks innocently.
Oh, no, he did not just fucking do what I think he did. "You fucking asshole, did you just bring me in here so you could mark me as yours?"
His mouth opens and he flounders momentarily and I think he's thinking about denying it. I raise my eyebrows and he huffs. "Baby, I need you," he pleads, reaching out to grab onto me.
I twist away from him. "I can't fucking believe how stupid I am. Fuck, Edward, what's next? Are you going to ask me to tattoo 'Edward's Bitch' across my forehead?"
"No, baby, of course not," he proclaims. I almost soften a little, but he decides to follow up with, "That would ruin your pretty face."
"Fuck you," I hiss, shoving him away from me.
He stumbles back dazedly. "Baby, it was a joke," he tries.
It doesn't go over well. "Oh, I was supposed to laugh at that? I'm so glad you think this is funny."
"I don't, baby, I promise. Come on, let's just snuggle on your bed and watch a movie."
I do laugh at that. Now that was a good joke. I bet he wants to 'snuggle', probably rather loudly. "Maybe after Emmett leaves," I allow.
"Fuck Emmett," he hisses, grabbing my arm to stop me. "I need you now."
Wrong thing to say to me right now, baby. I pull away from him and grab the bottle of lube sitting out on my nightstand. He has the audacity to look hopeful. I toss it at him. "Take care of yourself," I snap, storming out of the bedroom.
"Baby," he calls. "Come on. Jasper!"
I slam the door right in his face.
Emmett smirks at me from over the back of the couch. "I'm so proud of you," he whispers.
I don't answer him, because frankly, I'm feeling rather mortified. How fucking degrading is it that he just led me away? How fucking embarrassing is it that I fucking followed him like a lamb to slaughter?
I sit down with a huff and stew in my own shame. I'm only allowed a few moments before Edward comes out of my bedroom. I don't look in his direction, but as he squeezes between myself and the coffee table, I notice he's definitely still hard—which means he didn't yank the snake, which earns him a brownie point or two—and he's wearing a pair of my pajama pants, undoubtedly with nothing underneath them. And no shirt, but he is wearing his reading glasses.
He's pulling out the big guns. And I'm a little shocked with myself that it's working. I fucking hate that he's using my weaknesses against me.
When he sits down next to me, I immediately stand up, gathering the beer bottles that Emmett emptied and the two that Edward and I had left, and he tries to help me.
"Don't," I hiss at him.
He recoils and steps out of my way. I take the bottles to the kitchen and hear him mutter to Emmett, "You could have cleaned up after yourself, you fucking asshat."
"Why, when Jasper is so good at doing our dirty work for us?"
I know Emmett is probably either just saying that to get a rise out of Edward or to make him realize how shitty he just made me feel, so I don't take that rather offensive comment seriously. Edward starts to cuss him out for talking about me that way, then hisses to a halt and I hear the leather couch creak as he stands. I'm pouring our two bottles of barely touched beer down the sink when he hesitantly steps up behind me. I shrink away from his touch when he puts his hand on my hip and tries to kiss the side of my neck.
I hear him swallow rather loudly. "I hate it when you won't let me touch you," he whispers brokenly. He places his hands on the counter at either side of me and I can feel him just barely keeping any distance between our bodies at all. "I always want to be close to you, Jasper. I hate it when we fight."
"Then don't fucking treat me like your fucking possession," I yell, spinning around to face him.
His face is right there and he meets my eyes unwaveringly. "I'm sorry," he says.
He looks so upset, so grim, that I drop my head into his shoulder with a sigh and he wraps his arms around me, holding me to him tightly. I'm still angry at him, I'm not ready to forgive him yet, but I won't deny him his so desired touching. He kisses along the side my neck, up to my ear, and my cheek.
"Look at me, baby, kiss me," he urges. I shake my head 'no' and he stiffens. "I'm not having a good day, Jasper, this isn't helping," he says tersely.
"I'm sorry you're not having a good day, but I'm not your punching bag, Edward. Just because they run over the top of you at work doesn't mean you get to come here and do the same thing to me."
I hear his throat work as he swallows thickly. "I'm sorry that that's how you think I treat you. You don't even know what happened today," he says dismally, pulling away from me.
I reach out to grab his arm before he can walk away. "What happened today?" I ask.
He just shakes his head, not turning around to look at me. "I've harassed you enough for today, it's not yours to worry about."
My heart starts to pound faster as I follow him, blocking his path to the living room. This isn't good, he's pushing me away, blocking me out again and putting his shields back up in place. This isn't what I fucking wanted. Fucking damn it.
"We're together, Edward, if it worries you, it worries me. Tell me what happened today," I beg of him, cupping his face so he has to look at me.
"It's nothing, baby, don't worry," he says, giving me this pitiful excuse of a smile as he swipes his thumb over my lower lip.
He breaks my hold on him and tries to edge around me, but I don't let him. "It's not nothing, tell me what happened."
He sighs and turns to face. "Would you fucking make up your mind, Jasper? Are you angry at me or not?"
"Yes, I am angry at you for what you did, but that doesn't mean I don't care about what happened today. Whatever is bothering you trumps me being angry, I can put it aside so we can talk."
"You can put your anger aside so we can talk," he repeats.
"Yes," I affirm. "When you said you needed me on the phone, you made it pretty clear that you meant physically and had Emmett not been here, that would have been fine, Edward, but then you fucking changed what it was all about and you wanted to fucking mark me as yours, that is not okay. But we can talk about that later, whatever happened today is obviously bothering you and I want you to talk to me."
He leans in and pecks me on the lips then turns around and walks away.
"What the hell?" I ask incredulously. He shrugs. "Fine, don't fucking talk to me," I grouse at him as I follow him the long way around back to the living room. "But don't you fucking even try to say I wouldn't listen."
He simply shrugs again and grabs the book he previously had off of the coffee table, seating himself where I had previously been in the far corner opposite Emmett. I sulkily sit in the middle, then realize just how fitting it is that I'm stuck between Emmett and Edward. Smack dab in the middle of the two of them, and I think this is all part of his plan. He wants to make me choose, pick a side, Team Edward or Team Emmett. Emmett isn't making me choose, he's trying to help me find a happy medium where we can all get along, but Edward can't fucking do that.
But it's not like I'm really going to pick Emmett, even if he's the one who isn't making me choose. Edward is my fucking choice. I'd rather have him and no one else than any other choice that faced me that didn't involve him being in my life. Edward would always win.
Fuck him for trying to make me pick though. I'm not picking. I'm going to sit here and not fucking move. Or maybe I should just walk away. The goddamn caveman and the nuisance, my boyfriend and my best friend—or second best friend, since Edward technically gets that role too. Do I have good taste or what?
I'm surprised when Edward shifts into a different position, placing his head on my leg and lying across the couch. I stare down at him confusedly, because I think he just broke the rules of this pick-a-side thing. Maybe?
Or maybe he just wanted me to sit wherever I wanted to and I was the one who chose the middle? Perhaps I was just over thinking this whole fucking thing and making mountains of molehills.
I look down at Edward and watch him read; I decide that he's brooding. He looks way too intense to just be reading and not thinking about something else. He looks fucking hot—of course—in his fucking glasses and nothing but my sleeping pants, but the look on his face concerns me deeply. Something is really bothering him.
His eyes dart up, meeting mine and we just stare at each other. I want to say that we're telepathically communicating with each other, but that's not the case. If anything, I'm getting more confused as the seconds pass. What the hell is his game? Does he have one? Why am I so suspicious?
"Yes! Go!" Emmett hollers, making me jump and Edward growl and grumble, breaking our spell.
I sigh and roll my eyes, relaxing back into the couch and Edward hesitantly reaches up to finger my hair and urge my head down. I meet his eyes again and he's staring at me all expectantly with his lips moist and parted slightly, and I know he wants to be kissed. I can't deny him again. I lean down to him and we kiss 'Spiderman' style until he's practically whimpering and moaning with need.
"For fuck's sake, you two. Stop! I swear to God, if you try to use that book as a cover while you give him head, Edward, I'm going to kill you both," Emmett grumbles.
Edward stares up at me with dark, hooded eyes and I groan. "Thanks, Emmett, now you're feeding him ideas." Edward rolls over and I block my crotch with my hands. "You are not giving me a blowjob behind a book!" I yell at Edward.
He looks up at me all angrily then grabs the blanket that I keep on the back of the couch and pulls it over the top of us, covering his head and my lap. "For fuck's sake, you're not giving me a blowjob under a blanket either!" I gasp.
Emmett starts laughing and Edward's books goes flying. Then the yelling and threats start and I just sit there for the next half hour as the two of them go at it. It's pathetic because Emmett is barely even coming back with anything other than, "Shh, game's on." It's so fucking uncomfortable being stuck between these two idiots.
"Finally," Edward groans, wrapping his arms around me and I'm helpless to do anything but fall into him as he pulls me down.
I hadn't even noticed Emmett move yet. Upon closer inspection, I notice he is fisting the remote now, but he's watching us motionlessly.
"Uh, Edward," I mumble, but his lips catch it and turn it into nothing but babble. He moans into my mouth, arching his hips up and shoving his hands into the back of my shirt to rub and scratch at my back. Fuck me, his dick is so hard it almost hurts to feel it stabbing me in the stomach. "Edward," I try to say again to catch his attention.
Edward just barely turns his head to break our kiss, sending a lethal glare in Emmett's direction. "Get. The fuck. Out!" he yells profoundly.
Then he's kissing me again and he shoves his pants down at some point because there is naked, hard, hot, throbbing cock up the front of my shirt, sliding over my torso as he humps up at me. Fucking Christ.
"How do you expect that to work? Are you seriously going to fuck his stomach?" Emmett asks and I turn my head to see him standing there with his head cocked to the side, a confused expression on his face.
It's like I'm just a fucking rag doll or something, because Edward shoves me up and away and moves out from under me faster than I can keep up with and I'm face down on the couch, the sound of yells and heavy footsteps thundering away from me harassing my ears.
I just barely collect myself and sit up when I'm being shoved down again. Edward is on top of me, groaning and growling and humping. I'm more than just a little bit frustrated. What the fuck is this? Have I turned into a goddamn sex toy? If this isn't being used and abused, I don't even know what is.
"Edward, wait," I grumble unintelligibly against his lips. I try to shove him away with my hands, but he's so fucking focused on getting his he's not even fucking bothering to notice I'm not into this. At all. I'm not his fucking possession. Fuck! This is not hot for me.
"What, baby?" he finally pulls back to ask after I continuously tried to tell him to wait. He's still not waiting, he's shoving his dick against me like a fucking maniac and undoing the buttons on my jeans at the same time.
"Wait!" I yell.
"What?" he asks again, this time not so nicely, though he has stopped humping me like a horny dog.
"Would you stop treating me like Alejandro?" I gasp suspiciously. I don't know what the fuck this is, or what it's about, but after he fucking refused to talk to me earlier, after harnessing a plan to 'mark his territory', only to be followed up by using me like a toy, I'm growing distressed and angry. I don't like this side of him, I've never seen this side of him, and I don't fucking know what's wrong, but he needs to pull his shit together.
"Sorry," he mumbles, resuming the unbuttoning of my jeans. I laugh incredulously, and he doesn't even notice. He fucking thinks I'm upset that he wasn't making sure I was getting off too? Christ...
He pauses when he finds me soft and not at all turned on. News flash darling, what you are doing is not hot! He glances up at me confusedly and I'm waiting for it to click, but it doesn't. He just starts to fondle me, rather aggressively. My libido has officially died.
"What do you want for supper?" I ask blankly.
"What?" he asks, not bothering to stop his manhandling of me.
"I said, what do you want for supper?" I ask more loudly.
He reels back slightly, glancing first at my face, then his hand on my limp dick, and then his own raging hard on. "You're serious?" he asks.
I take advantage of his less dominating position over me and slide out from under him, standing up and tucking myself back into my jeans. "Yes," is all I say before walking away from him.
He doesn't yell or curse or do anything rash like I half expected him to. I hear my bedroom doors slam and then there is silence and I hope he isn't getting dressed to leave. I don't want him to leave, but he needs to cool down so we can talk about what's bothering him so much that he felt the need to practically attack me. He can't be that insecure about our relationship. Or maybe he could... I have no idea what he's thinking or feeling right now, but I know we're both upset. Was I pushing him away? Technically I knew that I was, but I didn't think that emotionally I was, that was him again. He wouldn't just come out with whatever the fuck was eating at him. But I didn't exactly explain how shitty he was making me feel either.
And what if I was over thinking all of this again. What if he just needed me that badly, and I pushed him away? I know what it's like to be so hard that it hurts, but he was going all wrong about the way to address it. Fuck, he'd told me how badly he wanted me though, then Emmett, and God, now I feel fucking guilty.
As guilty as I feel though, he really needs to learn that he can't always be so demanding. Sometimes he's going to have to be patient and understand that I'm not putting him on the backburner when I give someone or something else my attention. He'll always be my number one, no matter what happens.
I grab a package of chicken from the fridge, deciding that I'll make chicken fettuccine alfredo. I need to use up the chicken before it goes bad, plus it's easy enough to make, but mostly I make it because I think he'll enjoy it. I cut the chicken up while the pan heats and the water begins to boil.
Part of me really wants to go find Edward and kiss up on him and tell him I'm sorry, but I restrain myself because the other part of me is insistent that he needs to stop acting like such a fucking spoiled brat. I'm not his toy to be claimed and used. I'm not asking him to share me, but he needs to treat me like an adult. He needs to trust me. And he can't just fucking use me like a blowup doll.
The timer beeps, pulling me from my inner thoughts and I check the noodles, finding they're just about ready. I give everything a stir and find an oven-safe serving dish so I can keep supper hot if Edward decides to be a pain in my ass about forgiving me and eating. If I can forgive him his shit, then he better do the goddamn same, willingly.
I hear a door open and close and force myself not to look up with expectant eyes—as I feel the urge to do instantly. I'm whipped, so fucking whipped!
After everything is combined and looking fucking delicious, I pop it in the oven and smirk because I feel like a fucking Betty Homemaker or some shit. I pull off the oven mitts I have on and set them on the counter.
I start to wonder where Edward is, because I swore he left my bedroom, but I haven't seen him. Just as I'm about to turn around to go look for him, a heel of a hand is pushed forcefully into my shoulder.
"Bend over," he says gruffly.
"Edward," I sigh, getting fed up. What is with this dominating bullshit, usually I'm the one who's demanding.
"Bend. Over," he commands slowly, deeply, darkly.
I huff and just do it. If this is what he needs so badly, then I'm going to have to bite the bullet here and be there for him. Maybe this will make him understand how fucking much he means to me. I'll bend the fuck over for him, and I'd do it fucking backwards if that's what he wanted.
"Shirt off," he instructs.
"Couldn't you fucking say that first, you just told me to bend over," I grumble.
"Quit smart mouthing me," he demands.
"Okay, daddy," I snark. I pull my shirt off and move to turn around but Edward shoves me back down into the counter with the heel of his hand, making me bend over again.
Fuck.
I feel his tongue press wetly against my back and he drags it upwards over my spine and I inhale sharply.
Double fuck. This shit is making me hot, now. This is what I kind of wanted at one point, wasn't it? He's being all Domward, and I'd be fucking lying if I said I was thinking rationally and not getting turned on.
He makes it up to my neck and he presses several open mouthed kisses there. "I kind of like it when you call me daddy," he says huskily into my ear. "Now unbutton your pants."
I'm definitely feeling more willing and less mouthy now that he has me so fucking revved, so I quickly comply. My jeans fall loosely down to my ankles and Edward moans lowly and starts kissing my ribs, probably staring at my naked ass as he does so. I guess today was a good day to decide to fly free and go commando.
"It really pisses me off that you think you know me so well," he says darkly.
My eyes flutter closed and I'm barely catching the words that he's saying as his lips are brushing over the skin along my spine.
I jump and my eyes snap open as one warm, wet, obviously readied with lubricant, finger presses against my entrance. I stay bent over, but rise up on my elbows as he gently rubs me there.
"You have no idea," he says. I gasp as his finger breaks the barrier and presses inside of me. He stops and I press back against him to let him know that it was a good gasp. "What I'm going to do," he finishes, while continuing to move his finger further inside of me.
I reach forward, searching for something to grab and hold onto, because I feel like I need to stay grounded somehow. It's so good, I feel like I'm going to float the fuck away. Why does he have to be so hot? I'm supposed to be angry right now and defending myself, not bent over and getting fingered.
"You had this all fucking planned," Edward says, bringing a little bit of reality back into my blissed-out mind. "You knew if you told me that Emmett was here that I would get pissed and come over."
Slowly, he presses a second lubed finger into me, making me moan. I hope he doesn't expect me to participate in conversation with him right now, because I can't. Not to mention I have no idea what the fuck he's talking about.
"You knew that I would come over here and be territorial because that's how I fucking am with you. You fucking knew I'd try to get you away from him, preferably to have a loud orgasm so he would know. You're mine, goddamn it."
He accentuates his words with slightly more forceful thrusts of his fingers and I moan and push back into the pressure, wanting more.
"You fucking think you know every move I'll make. But you don't," he says, just before he removes his fingers from my completely.
"No," I groan. The pretentious prick, he's going to get me all fucking hot and leave me panting. I don't like this game.
I move to turn toward him, to beg if I have to, but his arm lands on my back and he pushes me down again.
"You see, you think you know," he says.
And then, oh God, and then he reaches around me and grabs my cock with one very well lubed hand.
"You can't play me, baby," he says.
"I'm not," I gasp, catching onto that part at least, but then he twists his palm over the tip of my cock and I lose my train of thought as I moan and shudder.
He's so fucking good to me, why was I ever upset?
I can feel his lips pressing reverent kisses up my back, over my shoulders, and to my neck. He stops there and licks a line to my ear.
"I know, baby, but you still pissed me off," he says.
"I'm sorry," I whimper as his hand slows its movement on my cock.
"I know you are," he says cockily. "I needed you so fucking bad. Never treat me like that again, never push me away so you can teach me a lesson, fucking tell me when I screw up, do you understand?"
"Yes," I whine. I'll agree to anything right now, doesn't he know that? He has to know what he's doing to me.
"Good," he says, kissing over my neck and shoulders. "Because you really have no idea how happy you make me."
He pushes forward, and the head of his cock presses between my ass cheeks. He's lubed and he's hard, and I think he's fucking ready. My head jolts back as I realize that this was his fucking plan. He's been naked and lubed the entire time, and I didn't even fucking know it.
I feel him shift his hips just slightly and then he's pressing forward and I moan because just the thought of what he's going to do makes me fucking ready to cum. He's almost there and God, do I ever want him there, but I open my stupid mouth.
"E-Edward, wait," I stutter.
He groans and his head falls forward against my back. He's pressed right up against me, he would just barely have to move to enter me, but he doesn't, he waits.
"Why?" he asks.
"Are you sure? You don't have to do this. If you're just doing it to make a point, I get it. I'm sorry. You don't have to do this just to prove a point."
"Jasper," he whispers, "I'm ready, I want you. Are you ready?"
"Yes, of course, but—"
My mouth drops open in a soundless moan cutting off whatever I was going to say as he presses forward, pushing into me, and he hangs his head forward into the crook of my neck.
"God," he groans against my skin.
"Oh, God!" I agree, throwing my hands back to grip his hips as I rest my upper body onto the counter. "More. God, Edward, give me more," I beg, trying to pull him into me faster.
"Shh, baby," he urges. "Slow, remember? We have to go slow."
I groan and grunt and grip at him as he slowly—fuck, it's so slow, I'm going to lose my fucking mind—enters me. I want more, harder, faster. "So long," I whine, shoving my hips back. "Waited so fucking long."
He grabs my hip with the hand he doesn't have on my cock and stops me. I don't even care that it hurts as he stretches me, I just want this. I fucking need it. Finally.
"Baby, you're fucking tight, slow down," he mumbles.
"More," I whimper, rocking my hips fruitlessly.
"Jasper," Edward moans, pulling out slightly before starting to slowly push into me again.
I can't shut up at all as he continues to enter me. I'm constantly begging him for more and moaning and groaning, and I probably sound like a fucking idiot, but I'm so far past caring. This is unbelievable. His cock feels so fucking good.
When he's finally completely inside of me, I clench around him, loving the way he fills me up, the way I do feel so tight around him. He moans my name again and squeezes my cock, quickening his strokes over it.
I move one of my hands off of his hips and reach back to fist his hair. I pull his face down into my neck hard, holding him there while I wriggle my ass side to side, trying to take more of him into me. How I could even want more when I already feel so full is beyond me.
"Baby, you feel so good," he whispers against my skin and that makes me moan just a little bit more—like I'm not moaning enough as it is. "Let me see," he urges, trying to pull back from his place in my neck.
I release his hair and he stands up straight. I brace my hand on the counter and stand up a little too, arching my back and sticking my ass out for him.
He seems to approve, moaning about how fucking hot I am, how sexy my ass is, and how good I feel. I whine a bit when his hand leaves my cock but then he uses his thumbs to spread my ass cheeks apart wider and I think he's looking at where he is buried inside of me and that makes me almost as hot as his hand stroking my cock did.
I wish I could see his face.
"Are you ready, baby?" he asks.
"Oh, God, yes!" I moan, griping the counter and his ass at the same time.
He hums and wraps his arm back around me to play with my cock as he slowly starts to pull out then push back in. If I couldn't shut up before, now I really can't shut the fuck up. The neighbors are probably starting to get concerned about the level of noise that comes from my house.
Edward is making his hot as fuck sex sounds too, but not nearly as often or loud as I am. I really fucking hope he's liking this, I want this to be good for him too. I clench around him, arching my back almost painfully to increase his pleasure and he gives me a nice loud moan in return.
"Fuck, baby, don't cum yet. If you cum, I'm going to cum. I don't want this to be over yet."
He tugs on my balls a bit harshly and that abates any urge I had to orgasm momentarily. He slowly thrusts in and out of me and we both continue to moan and he starts to jerk me off again, it just feels so fucking good. I love him so fucking much and this is easily the best sex of my life, I just wish that I could see him. I wish I could have seen his face as I watched him enter me for the first time, and I wished that I could see his face now as he took me so fucking perfectly. I want to see his face when he cums but I can't unless I crane my head in the most painfully fucking awkward way.
I just want to see him. I want him to see me.
It hits me like a ton of bricks to the chest when I realize that he can't see me either. Everything he said about plans and planning slowly creeps into my brain, shoving out the lusty fog. He kept saying that I planned something, that I planned this, and I still have no idea what he was talking about, because I didn't plan anything. And he said that I can't play him, but I'm not trying to.
But I wonder if he planned all of this. Planned to fuck me, planned taking me from behind so he wouldn't have to look at me. Planned playing me first, before I could play him. But I had no plans, not anymore. Did he trust me though? Does he even love me at all?
Right now, I don't even know, all I know is that I feel like I'm getting fucked from behind. He hasn't even told me he loves since entering me. Maybe he's the one with the plan.
He pushes into me hard, and I cry out for him to stop.
He freezes immediately and his hands are everywhere. "Fuck, baby, are you okay? Too much? I'm sorry, shit."
I don't know. I don't know anything at all. I can't see his face and he can't see mine and the emotional detachment of him taking me from behind counters the way he's kissing over my back, trying to soothe me. I don't fucking know. I can't think and I can't breathe.
I can't do this.
"I can't. Stop," I beg. "Stop, stop, stop. I can't."
"Baby, what did I do?" he implores. "Did I hurt you?"
He did. It hurts. It hurts so bad. And when he finally vacates my body, I'm emptier than I ever imagined I could feel.
"Jasper?" I hear Edward call distantly, he sounds confused, and I'm so fucking confused too. I know he's still standing behind me, but he sounds so far away. He's so far away from me.
I can see him reaching out for me, I can feel him trying to grab onto me, but I can't do this. He's so far away.
I run. It's nearly impossible to do because of my jeans around my ankles and the ache I feel from him stretching me, but I manage because the ache isn't anything at all compared to the emptiness. My vital pieces feel like they're being ripped from my body and I have to get away from him.
He succeeds in breaking me again and again. It hurts. I love him. I can't fucking understand this. I thought he loved me too.
I can hear him following behind me and I'm so afraid he's going to catch me. I don't know why it matters, he's already managed to break me again, what more can he do to me now? But I don't want to give him the chance. I just want to get away from him. I can't do this.
My pants finally fall off of me and I dive into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. He pounds on it and calls for me, but I can barely hear him as I run around to the closet connected to the bathroom. I sprint through the doorway, running as hard as I can, slamming into the door that separates my bedroom from the closet. It slams closed with some pressure that I assume is him trying to get inside, and thankfully, the force and weight of my body hitting it are enough to keep it closed while I lock it.
Edward pounds viciously on the door, screaming my name and cursing, and constantly rattling the doorknob. I rush back towards the bathroom, just barely making it around the corner before I retch violently into the toilet.
I can still hear him calling my name even with what sounds like freight trains roaring in my ears. If he got what he wanted, why won't he just leave me alone? Is this how all of those poor bastards felt after I fucked them?
I grab a towel and clean myself up marginally then crawl back into the closet, sitting in the corner beneath my seldom used coats. A sudden sob steals my breath and racks my body, the pain is unbelievable. Everything hurts. Everything.
There is dead silence, and I wonder if he's finally given up, left me, and the pain only intensifies. There is a loud crash and the closet door frame splinters as the wooden door flies inward, revealing Edward. Frantic Edward, scared Edward, broken Edward. His face is contorted, his hard green eyes are leaking. He walks right past me, not even noticing me as he hysterically calls my name and searches the bathroom for me.
I don't understand why he's still here. I don't understand why he's still pretending to care. I don't understand why he did this to me.
He continues to call my name and I hear things banging around. I wonder if he's looking for me to hurt me more. I don't think that's even possible.
He comes back around, calling for me, so desperately. And when he finally spots me he runs to me, falling to his knees and crawling to me.
I cower away from him and he sobs hard. "What did I do, Jasper? What did I do?" he cries wretchedly. His hands hover shakily over me and he continues to sob.
I don't get it. What more does he want from me? I already gave him everything.
There is a long forgotten pack of cigarettes sitting on the windowsill and I reach out for them, slowly handing them to Edward, who stares confusedly. "I used to come here to smoke after I fucked someone, so here, take them, they're yours now."
He stares blankly at them but doesn't take them so I drop them between us, opting to look out the window instead of at him anymore.
"Jasper, I don't know what the fuck is happening, but you're scaring me. Tell me what I did!"
I laugh bitterly, sobbing at the same. "Like you don't fucking know what you did. You planned it, fuck me from behind so you wouldn't have to look at me while you did it. You got what you wanted, just leave."
"Jasper—" he sobs.
"Just go, Edward. It's fucking over. You did it, you broke me. Congratulations. Was it James that put you up to this? Did he pay you? Or is he who you've really been with all along? You can tell him it's over now, you win, he wins. I'll never fuck someone again, now that I know how it feels."
Edward looks shocked, stupefied, and I think I must have hit the nail right on the head. He played a good damn game, a great game to beat a player like me.
A low, pained sounding groan comes out of his lips before he slowly falls backwards away from me. He leans back and thuds his head against the wall hard, repeatedly, fisting his hair in his hands and pulling harshly.
I force myself to look away, because I shouldn't care if he's hurting himself. I don't... I can't... I won't care.
"I'm so fucking stupid," he sobs. "How could I be so fucking stupid?"
"Don't beat yourself up, I was the stupid one. I can't believe I fell for my own game. Don't worry about me ratting you out or whatever, it's fine. Just please leave now, I can't look at you. I can't believe I fell in love with you. Just go."
"Jasper, please, you have to believe me, I love you," he cries. I can see him moving towards me again and I want to get away, but I can't, I'm already in a corner, I have no where to go. "I love you, Jasper. I'm in love with you, I've been in love with you since the beginning, and none of this was a plan. I was trying to make love to you, I was so fucking desperate to show you how I felt. But I fucked up, again. I'm so sorry, Jasper, I never fucking meant to hurt you. Please believe me, I can't fucking lose you."
"Please stop hurting me," I beg as his hands gently cup my face and he tries to make me look at him. "Just please stop, it hurts too much."
"No," he says, continuing to try to make me look at him. I can feel his tears mixing with mine and wetting my skin, but I already know he's a good actor, I don't know why he needs to hurt me more than he already has. "I'm not leaving, Jasper. Goddamn it, I fucking love you, and this is a huge fucking misunderstanding and I didn't try to make you feel like you were being fucked. I was too fucking stupid to realize that I wasn't looking at you, I was too horny to even think about how you would take that, and I'm so fucking sorry, but you need to look at me now. You need to see me and know that I'm telling you the truth. Baby, I love you and I mean it, I've meant it every time I said it and I'm not going to give up on us because I fucked up again. I can't live without you. Look at me."
I'm too afraid to look, because I already know he looks broken and terrified and I know what it looks like when he says that he loves me. I believed him, I'd probably still believe him, and I don't want to believe him anymore. It all just hurts too badly. I want a clean break, not all this painful splintering. I don't fucking understand any of this bullshit anymore.
Then he's on top of me, straddling my weak, naked body, and he's still wearing the condom and I don't know what he's going to do to me now. He kisses me, and I don't respond but he just keeps kissing me and telling me he loves me. I don't fucking get it. I just don't. What is the point of continuing on with the lie if he got what he wanted?
"What do you want from me?" I ask, but his mouth obscures the words.
"I just want you, baby. I love you. This is all just a huge misapprehension and I didn't use my big head before I started to make love to you and I should have done it the right way. I should have brought you to bed and looked into your eyes and told you how much I loved you, but I was so stupid. Please forgive me, Jasper, please believe me. I can't be without you, please."
He's wearing me thin, he sounds so honest, so desperate. His touch feels so right and his lips feel as perfect as ever. "I don't understand," I say, letting my eyes meet his.
He stares at me intensely, like he can see right into my soul and I can't bring myself to look away. "I know, baby, I'm so sorry. I know you know that I love you, I know you've felt it when I told you, and I know you can remember if you just let yourself. You have to remember that I love you, Jasper, that I have loved you every second of every day that we've spent together and this is just a mistake. I never meant for this to happen, I never wanted to hurt you, I didn't realize that you thought I was fucking you. Please, Jasper, please remember, believe me."
He sticks his hand out, jabbing my lightly in the chest, where my heart is. "You know here how I feel about you." Then he starts poking me in the forehead. "And you know here how stupid I am. I do the most idiotic things without even realizing it, baby, you know that. Forgive me this one last time and I promise you won't regret it. Just give me one more chance."
"You don't want to be with me," I counter, still utterly confused. My body is at war with itself, trying to protect me from him and from my own stupidity all at the same time. I don't know who's the one who is making the mistake here. Is it me or was it him? I don't know what the fuck is going on or what to think or what to believe.
"You're all I want, Jasper. I wanted so badly to prove that to you today, and look how much I fucked it up. It's you who shouldn't want me. I'm an idiot, so fucking stupid, worthless, fucking useless. How hard is it to show someone you love them? And I managed to fuck that up. Christ, do you even want me anymore?"
"I..." I start to answer, but my initial reaction to tell him that of course I want him doesn't seem right anymore. I'm not supposed to want him anymore. Not after... But he didn't really... "I don't know," I answer. I don't, parts of me are screaming yes and others are demanding no, never again. I don't have any idea what I want anymore.
"Jasper, I love you, how can you think that I would hurt you so badly? Do you think of me as a monster, do you think that I really came into this with the intention of hurting you?"
"I don't know," I answer again.
"I know I'm not perfect, but I thought you loved me too, despite how terribly I screw up sometimes. You have to trust me now. I would never do something so horrible to you, Jasper, I love you more than anything in this whole fucking world. I wouldn't do this to you."
"Then what were you doing? I don't understand what the fuck you were thinking?" I snap at him. "Everything was going so great, today was a little rough, but everyone has bad days. I thought it was finally looking up, I let lust cloud my judgment just for a moment and when my head cleared enough I realized that you were fucking me, Edward. I felt like a whore, being taken from behind like some goddamn nameless slut. You were a completely fucking paradox of soft lips and hard words, gentle, and yet so fucking cruel, insensitive. What the fuck? I don't know if I can trust you at all anymore. I don't know what you were doing or why."
"I don't know what I was doing, either. I've never done this before. Last night, while we were in bed talking and laughing, I just started thinking about how much you mean to me and how I would gladly spend every day of my life doing everything in my power just to see you look at me the way you do, to see you laugh and smile. I wanted to show you how much I love you, because I didn't think you understood just how much I do love you, and now I fucking know that you have no idea how I feel about you, and I don't blame you, that's my fucking fault. But I had this all worked out so perfectly this morning. I was going to come over and show you and tell you and fucking worship you like you deserve. Then shit happened at work, then Emmett happened, and I was so fucking desperate to just be with you, and I fucked up."
He falls away from me, huddling into the corner opposite me, hugging his knees, staring out the window. His eyes snap down suddenly and he grips the condom still on his cock, snapping it off and tossing it into the bathroom angrily. He huddles back up, making himself smaller than I'd ever seen him, staring unseeingly out into the darkness.
"I fucked up," he repeats, not looking at me. "I'll understand if you can't forgive me again, but just please believe me when I say that I never meant for this to happen and that I love you more than anything. I fucking love you, Jasper. I'm so fucking sorry."
He continues to stare out the window, angrily shoving tears off of his face for several long minutes and I just watch him. I don't think he's lying. I think he's being honest and this was all just a big fucking mistake. But the way he treated me still hurts me terribly, and the funny thing is that that pain is nothing compared to how bad it hurts watching him cry.
His eyes snap to mine and his mouth opens, but nothing comes out. He swallows and stares wildly at me, looking terrified and as if he's choking on what he's about to say. His eyes move down and he scrubs his hand over his face roughly. "If you..." His voice cracks and he sobs quietly, hugging his knees tighter. "If you want me to go, I will," he says tentatively, and I know he doesn't want to leave.
The question is whether I really want him to go or not.
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