Devirginizing Edward One-Shot Contest

Story Name: Of Love and Silence
Pen name: RobsLostSoul
Pairing: Edward/Carlisle
Disclaimer: The characters in this fiction are owned and created by Stephenie Meyer. Contains a slash pairing and a graphic sexual encounter.
To see other entries in the "Devirginizing Edward" contest, please visit the C2: .net/community/Devirginizing_Edward/76805/

A/N: Thank you to RobsFallenAngel for being my beta and bestie, and a constant source of support and giggling like an idiot. *screams* I LOVE YOU, FALLEN! And thank you to Emjay for your constant encouragement of my writing. Also, thank you to the person who came up with 'rigid appendage'...I'll never go limp again. ;)

Silence. It was amazing how something I neither appreciated nor even took notice of before was now my only source of solace. Lying on my back, in the snow of the slumbering woods around me, I didn't take a single breath and I fantasized that I was dead. It was so peaceful. Never having to do anything, just eternally being surrounding by blaring, deafening, blissful silence.

I slowly opened my eyes and they were assaulted with a countless number of beams of pure-white light that was reflecting off the snow that my body had sunken into. I shifted, and the glimmering did as well. I sat up from my snowy coffin and looked down at my glittering hands. This is who I was now. I wasn't really sure if I was even still a person; perhaps, more a devil than any other creature.

I took in the freezing air through my nose and was inundated with a barrage of unrequested information. Animals that had fed here, people that had walked through, I could even smell the echo of the wildflowers that had flourished here months ago.

Clenching my jaw, I tried to swallow down the anger that was threatening to seep out. I was always angry now, it seemed. Carlisle had assured me that this was all natural, that he felt the same way, and that soon I would be feeling a 'calm state of acceptance'. I could hear my steely teeth grind together in my mouth as I sneered at the thought of that phrase.

But at least it was silent. When I was first changed three years ago, I was terrified that I had gone mad. I could hear peoples' internal voices, and I thought that I had somehow survived the scourge but was left insane by the fever. Little did I know that that fate would have been a blessing, and that my true reality was much more hellish than anything a madman could conjure.

Raising myself to my feet, I listened. I heard no movement, and no thoughts. I had grown fond of these foreboding woods. Sometimes I would come here for days, and just lie in the silence. Carlisle didn't worry as much anymore, but I always heard the murmurings of his mind when I left, wondering whether that would be the last time he would see me. Perhaps one day it would be, except that I didn't know where else to go.

I turned towards the direction of the city and broke into a run, barely marring the fresh snow as I blurred over the landscape. In a sudden rash of stillness, I stopped running and jammed my feet into the deep snow ahead of me, tucking myself forward into a roll to absorb my momentum. Something had caught my attention, something that absolutely dominated my every sense and thought in that moment. Food.

I could hear the two men grunting as they labored to pull the saw back and forth against the frozen trunk of the tree they were cutting. I couldn't see them through the thick forest, but I knew they were a mere quarter mile or so away. Just a few paces to me. I inhaled deeply and my mouth flooded as my eyes dilated and my focus sharpened. My throat erupted into the burn of countless flames, and no amount of swallowing would wash the pain away. Even the smell of their sweat intoxicated me like a sweet basting on a honeyed ham.

I clenched my fists at my sides as I fought to regain control of myself. Carlisle was right; I was more in control...even just a few short months ago these men would have been in grave danger of never returning to see their families that night.

Redirecting my attention, I set off again towards my home and my only companion I had in this world.

* * *

As the dim lights of Chicago came into view, I tried to smooth my wrinkled, gray tweed suit and I attempted to retie my bow-tie. I ripped the piece of fabric off and dropped it in the snow. I never cared much for bow-ties. I pulled my linen sporting cap out of the back of my waistband and pulled the brimmed hat low over my eyes – my eyes that were not quite a human color. Even though it was the middle of the night, I couldn't take any chances of someone seeing their muddied crimson hue.

I walked along the out-skirting city streets at what felt like a dreadfully slow pace. Finally I was coming down the street where I resided with Carlisle Cullen, my creator. We lived in a temporary living quarters, a tasteful, yet small, apartment - everything about it being utterly unremarkable. We moved often, and I didn't care. Nothing held special attachment to me anymore. Everything that did had perished years before.

I pushed the brass key into the lock and walked into a darkened room, odd shadows shivering on the wall by the fireplace.

"Carlisle, why do you insist on lighting that fire every night?"

I could hear his reprieve to see me, and I couldn't help but to smile. He did seem to truly care about me, although I suspected his deep concern was really rooted in even deeper guilt.

"Edward..." he breathed out my name in relief. "Welcome home. You were gone longer than usual. Six days this time," he stated, but it was more of a question. I was worried you weren't returning to me, Edward.

Suddenly feeling a pang of remorse as I heard Carlisle speak to me through his thoughts, I took off my hat and ran my hand through my hair. "I just needed more time...this time." I owed him more than that, but I didn't have anything else to give.

I heard him wondering what color my eyes were. "Did you hunt, Edward? Six days..." he trailed off as my gaze flashed up to meet his and his face fell at the sight of my muted ruby irises. "You didn't hunt. You need to hunt if you are going to be living like I --" and his voice faltered as he realized I had no intentions of living as he did presently.

He closed his mouth, resigned, and as his hand came up to cradle his head, a single lock of golden hair fell over his wrist. I felt terribly, and standing there, looking at Carlisle, I was at a loss. I was lost. How was I supposed to comfort someone on my well being when I am the furthest thing from being well?

It suddenly felt stifling and oppressive in the small, over stuffed apartment. The baroque furniture and floor to ceiling bookcases did not look like portals of knowledge and comfort to me, but rather penitentiary bars. I had to leave. Now.

As I backed towards the door, Carlisle began pleading with me silently. Edward, I have found peace in the way I live, and all I want is for you to find the same. Please, let me help you, we can leave now, don't destroy human life unnecessarily. As his brow furrowed and he looked on at me with pain, guilt, and fear, the only comfort I could offer him was, "It is never unnecessary," as I took a dark cloak off a chair and turned out the door.

Wrapping the heavy material around my shoulders, I flashed from shadow to shadow. No longer was I attempting to blend in, I was now the invisible mercenary looking for his next target. My thirst was becoming more and more demanding with each passing moment as the thought of a pending meal was penetrating my every thought. I scaled the darkened side of a clock tower and crouched silently at the precipice. I spent most of my time trying to block out the babbling thoughts of others, but now I was inviting them all in without censor. I wanted to hear every detail running through every person's mind that was within my range. I was looking for something, something specific. And I almost always found it.

Soon voices that I had been occluding began to flood my mind and I sifted through them one by one. It was much like being in a crowed auction hall when the caller is trying to pick out the voice of the highest bidder, and it had taken me the past two years to hone this ability. As I shut my eyes and rifled through each set of thoughts, I distinguishing each voice and listened for the depravity I was hunting. It didn't take long; there was a young man with an even younger girl and I focused on his sinister contemplations that were now screaming in my mind.

My lips curled as I heard him looking at the girl and thinking of the things he was planning on doing to her. My chest tightened as I heard how excited his internal monologue was in his disgusting descriptions. My eyes snapped open and came into sharp focus as I pinpointed where the voice was coming from. From my crouched position, I leaped off of the clock tower to run along the tile roofs of the city. He wasn't far now. He was getting louder in my mind. My throat burned for him.

Finally, I could hear not only his mind but also his voice speaking aloud to the young girl. He was telling her how beautiful she looked that night, and she was nervously responding that she needed to be going home and that her mistress would be looking after her. I watched them from my perch on a roof peak, and I concentrated on the man's every thought; I felt it only fair to give my subjects a fair trial, so to speak, with irrefutable evidence to their imminent crimes.

While he prattled on to the girl about her beauty, his mind was playing through other things that he had done to women, immoral things. More often than not, against their will and at their begging for him to stop. He spoke to himself about how thrilling it will be to see this girl's mouth on him. I had never heard of something so grotesque and against nature before.

It didn't take long for him to give me the excuse I was waiting for. By the time the first shriek had left the girl's lips and he was yanking at his trousers, I was standing behind him, brandishing a knife. I, of course, wasn't really using it for defense. It was all part of my carefully planned and choreographed theatrics.

The fury and thirst that was tormenting me came out of my throat in a snarl, "Leave her."

The man spun around, his pants at his thighs. The girl looked at me with fear and tears in her eyes. I took a step forward and as the moonlight glinted off the blade of my knife, I curled my lips and growled low in my chest, locking eyes with the girl. She gasped with horror at the daemon I was. Clutching at her disheveled clothing she gave me what I wanted, and she turned and fled away from us, never looking back.

The man was cocky and smelt of stale liquor. I hated him with every fiber of my being. He began to ask me to walk along and not cause any trouble as he tugged up his clothing. When I did not respond, and instead continued my advancing steps, he began asking me to take his money. I always found it amazing how oblivious these men were to the fact that they were staring their executioner in the face right before them, and all they every thought about was the extra money in their shoes they hoped I wouldn't look for.

My voice eerily steady, I took another step towards him, and he instinctively mimicked my pace away from me. "I don't want your money."

He scoffed in disbelief as he demanded what did I want then, and he proceeded to voice his anger with me for 'chasing off his lucky girl'. That made me snap. I lunged at his throat, and smashed his body against the stone wall of the narrow alleyway, closing his windpipe with my icy hand. Terror played across his face as he looked down at me while his feet dangled uselessly above the ground. I wanted to crush the life out of him that second, but I forced myself back to my protocol.

A hiss spat out from between my clenched teeth as I slowly lowered the man to his feet, and I felt his skin crawl under my stoney grasp in response. I raised my knife to his throat, pressing the blade to his flesh between the gap of two of my fingers. He began to squirm and thrash wildly as the moon caught the color of my eyes and the cold steel dug into his skin. He tried to scream, but I was crushing his vocal chords under my thumb, and all his futile struggling did was increased the flow of venom to my mouth.

I slit the blade along the pulsing artery of his throat and his warm blood gushed over my hand. The smell was unbearably delicious, and I dipped my head to his neck. Parting my lips, I closed my eyes and ran my tongue along the smooth cut, savoring the sweet nectar that was pouring forth. Pressing my mouth to his neck, I drank, swallowing the hot liquid that flowed out with each pump of his faltering heart. The sensation of his blood filling my throat and belly was almost hypnotic, and my unceasing thirst finally began to feel sated. It used all of my will to pull away, to leave some delectable blood in him, and I locked eyes with the dying man. I searched him for something that resembled some sense of remorse or repentance. He had none.

Unable to speak, his thoughts were a tangle of fear and self pity, wondering why I would do such a thing to him. Licking the metallic taste of his life from my lips, I spoke to him. "You will never injure again." He looked at me blankly, and as I saw his eyes begin to dim, I murmured my envy of him that he could perish.

Nothing is more intimate than death. Not birth, not sex, not anything. As the last flickers of consciousness fled from his gaze, I loosened my grip and allowed him to slowly slide down to the ground. I stared into his vapid expression, the mask of death that now stilled his features. I never knew what it was that I was looking for; some sort of understanding perhaps of why God let there be men like these and creatures like me. Wishful thinking that in death, maybe there was some clarity of life.

I carefully arranged the man's limbs into a state of chaos, and cut wounds into his forearms and hands to create the appearance of a scuffle and fateful fight. Placing the weapon of his murder into his own palm, I pulled my cloak tightly around me and jumped back up to the roof tops, silently gliding along them unseen.

* * *

I began to feel the familiar guilt fall over me like a dark shadow, intensifying as I got closer to Carlisle. He would be disappointed in me, hurt, but most of all, guilty. Guilty for creating me but failing to give me serenity, which turned into guilt over my existence at all. He loved me, I heard him think it everyday, but he more than anything wanted to preserve life if not create it. With my creation, he had made me unbearably miserable and he now fostered a creature that killed, executed, and destroyed. It broke him.

I had tried to explain my rational for the murders many times to him, but perhaps I was not successful because I myself had doubts about it's morality. Although I was not ready to commit to the life of self-deprivation that Carlisle prided himself on, I was not altogether comfortable with the way I existed either.

Entering the darkened apartment for the second time that night, I found Carlisle standing by the window, his arms crossed over his vested chest, once again lamenting on his guilt over my misery.

"On the table, Edward."

I turned towards the table and saw a small package neatly wrapped there, but not before catching a glimpse of my brilliant scarlet eyes in the mirror. Filled with a confining shame, I picked up the small package and gently undid the delicate string holding the paper tightly around it. Upon lifting the lid of the small box inside, a gleaming golden pocket watch was revealed.

He did not turn from the window, and in a voice full of strain, he spoke to me again. "I thought you might like it. It's from Paris...I ordered it months ago. It was custom designed just for you – turn it over."

Turning the pocket watch over, it steadily ticking against my palm, I saw the inscription on the back. It read: "Edward Masen Cullen Eternally, C.C." I closed my hand around the watch as I heard the deep sadness in Carlisle's thoughts, the pure loss that he was at with me. I searched for something to say, something to make him see that it wasn't his fault that I was the way I was, and that to some perhaps he had given the greatest gift of all. Immortality just wasn't suited for me, and that wasn't his burden to bear.

"Carlisle, it is...it's exquisite. And entirely undeserved." As I moved the timepiece around in my hand, he came over to me and sat down at the filigreed oak table, gesturing for me to do the same. I sat, not meeting his eyes, feigning an intense interest in the pocket watch's viewing window, scrutinizing the working mechanisms within.

"Please look at me." The shame I felt in front of Carlisle nearly suffocated me as I raised my eyes to his. The flinch he made was almost imperceptible, but the anguish in his thoughts was deafening as he looked onto my blood-drenched stare.

"I feel I have failed you. Tell me, what can I do? What can I do to make this right? I cannot take back what I have done, and I would never want to. Edward, before I had you my life was empty. I was more alone than you can possibly imagine. You brought color and warmth into a world that was full of black and bitter cold. Please, tell me how I can be the same for you. I am begging you..." he searched my face as he spoke, and I knew that each word was genuine and it touched me at the deepest level.

Shaking my head, I tried again to explain myself to him. "It isn't that you have failed me – if I have to be given this fate, I could not imagine a more compassionate and admirable mind to share it with than yours. And my choices...they are just that. I do not understand why I should deny myself what feels so natural and satiates such a basic need. If you could just hear what I do before I...before these men get what is justly served to them. If you could hear, then you would see that I am not extinguishing life arbitrarily."

His unchanging, flawless features somehow appeared weary as he listened to me. He let me hear him: If only there was something that I could give to you. The penance I feel I must pay for your suffering is so great that it haunts me every moment. You are more than my companion, Edward, you are the product of my existence.

I felt like nothing more than an ingrate wretch as I heard Carlisle's soft sentiments to me, and I attempted again to ease his mind. "Do you realize what would have happened to that girl tonight if I had not stopped him? Do you want me to...tell you the heinous things he had planned for her?"

He didn't respond, but he did not abate me either. "Not only did he plan to rape her, no. He had other tortures he wanted to inflict upon her - horrible, ungodly things that not even a beast would commit." My lips curled as I remembered the acts that the man had described in his dark fantasizes.

Carlisle looked morbidly curious at this, and I decided to continue. "In fact, he wanted her to do something that I can only describe as akin to pure abomination – he wanted her to..." I stammered as I worked to articulate what I had witnessed, "he wanted her to use her mouth on him." I looked at him meaningfully, praying for his understanding so that I did not have to go into further detail about the atrocity and the justification it allowed for my crime.

Carlisle then reacted in the most unexpected way I could have imagined. The deep furrows that were marring his face relaxed, and he actually began to smile as he leaned back into his chair. A wave of fear crashed onto me as I thought that perhaps he had finally lost his sanity due to all the strain I had caused him as he began to chuckle to himself. Confused and frightened, I demanded to know why he was reacting this way.

"Edward, what you just described...although in that situation was irrefutably sinful, is not an act by it's own design to be considered an 'abomination'."

I blinked several times, taken off guard by not only the sudden change in Carlisle's demeanor, but also at what I thought he was saying. Without much thought, I blurted out, "Are you saying that...that...is something that is..." I shifted uncomfortably in my chair, "routinely...performed?" I couldn't believe that such a thing could be true. Surely, I had misunderstood.

This sort of situation was not new to us. Since I was changed at such a young age at the dawn of World War I, most of my pubescent life was completely consumed by the thoughts and actions regarding war-time preparations and gloried battles. I did not have much interest in the opposite sex or knowledge concerning it. Carlisle, on the other hand, had had love in his life before he was turned, and he was in all ways older and more experienced than me. He was my only window to the this elusive, sensual world.

"Yes, it is not an uncommon...practice. And in consensual relationships, it is actually very enjoyable – to both parties."

I felt my eyes go wide at this statement, and I could not believe it. I straightened up in my chair and began to quote parables that I had been taught as a child in indignation. "'Mouths are meant for nourishment and prayer' - I can assure you, this act falls under neither one." I suddenly was unable to think of anything else, and I repeatedly ran over the statements I had plucked from the vagrant's mind. I tried to understand them in a different light, and imagine how these actions would even be conducted, and I was entranced.

I hadn't seen Carlisle this way in ages, and I think I could say he was almost jovial as he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, and laughed softly as he searched for the right way to explain to me the virtues of such a thing. He decided the direct approach was best, and he thought his explanation for me.

I scoffed aloud, "I don't believe it. Besides, I cannot imagine that that would even be...pleasurable for the receiver. It seems completely unnatural."

"Truly, it's very natural...and very pleasurable." Carlisle's smile was slowly replaced with a contemplative look that I could not identify. His thoughts were short and almost inaudible at first, as if he was trying to change their direction so that I couldn't hear them. He closed his eyes for a long moment, and I could hear him gathering his words into an order that he wanted to present to me. Truly, most of what I was hearing was muted and blurred; since this new revelation, I was continually having my own thoughts run through my head and cloud everything. I was almost dizzy at the charged mixture of surprise, curiosity, and most unexpectedly...excitement.

Edward.

The present came into sharp focus as I heard my name spoken wordlessly. I looked at Carlisle, and he began to speak to me in a slow, measured tone.

"I have been searching for a ways to bring you peace. I have bought you every treasure I can think of, taken you to exotic places. I have never been successful. I will now settle for just bringing you pleasure...even if it is fleeting."

He sat statuesque, only the light from the fireplace bouncing in his eyes to break the stillness. His rose tinged lips were barely upturned at each corner as he looked at me. I won't go against your will, but I am begging you to allow me to try, Edward. I won't move from here...IS IT against your will?

My breathing halted as realization blanketed my focus. Perhaps Carlisle had gone a bit mad; he wanted to perform this act he described...on me.

A seemingly contradicting mixture of emotions flashed through me like lightening strikes. The ever-present guilt. Disgust. Fear. Pity. Love. Anger. Desire. My dark brows pulled together as I tried to come up with some sort of a response to him. His mind was silent, and he waited patiently.

Although I was not thirsty, I swallowed dryly several times. My hands were gripped on the sides of the carved wooden chair, tastefully upholstered in scarlet jacquard. As I clenched my teeth together, I heard the wood splinter away from the fabric as it was being destroyed in my uncertain hands. I murmured apologies as I quickly released my hold, and Carlisle attempted to hush me as he fluidly sank to his knees in front of me.

"Edward," he locked his eyes with mine and gently placed one of his hands on my knee, "I am begging you to allow me to atone." He spoke these next words one at a time, allowing each one to hang in the air between us, "Is it against your will?"

My eyes flashed between the splinters resting in my open palm, the ticking pocket watch on the table, and Carlisle's golden and pleading eyes. Every sense of morality did not seem to matter anymore. I had already committed so many sins in my short existence: lied, stolen, coveted, and even murdered. What sort of sin would this really be? I could not imagine that giving someone so pure as Carlisle something he wanted with his own good intentions could be wrong. What sort of God would that be that would punish him? With a sour despair, I countered myself: what sort of God would allow me to exist if He did as well? I pulled my reddened eyes to his then, and I barely nodded my ascent.

His features relaxed instantly as he moved his hand to my own and gently pressed his lips to my palm. He spoke softly against my skin, "Thank you, thank you for allowing me this."

Terror gripped at me as my eyes widened and my focus became painfully trained. Every muscle in my body tensed as I felt his deft surgeons' hands move weightlessly over my knees. Every move he made was calculated, and he repeated to me in his mind that he only wanted to bring me relief and happiness and that he would stop at once if that was not the effect. Although those things were furthest from my mind, and I was incredibly uncomfortable and scared, I owed Carlisle more than that. I owed him everything.

His pale hands stopped at my waistband, hesitating. As he dipped his fingers just under the bit of fabric, he looked up at me, his mouth slightly open in an unspoken question, his face searching mine. I closed my eyes and leaned back stiffly in my chair as my answer.

My stomach burned where our icy skin met, and I felt my trousers become looser at my waist. My breathing began to quicken, and my fear was now thickly mingled with trepidation. This torrid excitement would flow and ebb with crippling guilt, one emotion quickly overtaking the other. Not wanting to destroy anything else, I clenched and relaxed my fists rhythmically in an attempt to calm myself.

I heard the weave of the tweed rip as Carlisle pulled the garment apart, allowing it to rest on each side of my thighs. It didn't matter. I had twenty other suits of the same or better. It seemed he could never buy me enough. Again, he paused at my undershorts, fingertips barely pulling at the top, waiting for me to protest if I wanted to. I remained still, fists clenched, breathing rapid, and hoped that he would not force me to tell him to go on.

I felt the thin cotton fabric pull away from me and the warm air of the room flooded around my exposed skin. I had never been naked before another person aside from my childhood, and while I felt shamed, I also felt a sort of eager apprehension at what was to happen next. Carlisle placed both of his hands firmly on the tops of each of my legs, and moved them up towards my belly, allowing his thumbs to catch just under the satchel of flesh that hung between my legs. His studying eyes would flicker from my nakedness to my face at each movement, checking my reaction. He pressed his thumbs steadily into the bare area of skin where they lay, and a sharp noise involuntarily came out of my throat. His hands froze instantly and worry knitted over his face, but when he felt my bodily venom begin to flow through my petrified veins, a small smile replaced the worry, and he returned his attention back to my body.

As his thumbs continued their massage, I allowed my eyes to open to small slits as I hazarded a glance down at myself. With shock I saw that I was quickly becoming erect. Carlisle moved his hands now, one on my thigh, the other on my lower stomach, where he gently toyed with the fine hair that was there. He drug his fingers down, and intertwined them into the thicker hair that lay just below that. The sensation of having someone other than myself touching me in that way, my not being able to predict what was going to happen next, was exhilarating. I felt more fluid surge to my groin.

Carlisle looked pleased as my length became fully engorged and lay stiffly against my stomach. His eyes were locked onto my protrusion, and he shook his head slightly as he began removing his own jacket, unbuttoning the first few buttons of his silk vest. You are beautiful, he thought.

He returned to me now, and dipped his head against the crease where my leg joined my body. He nuzzled his nose against my hair and inhaled deeply, and I heard him enjoying my scent. Edward, you smell so sweetly... I shifted, suddenly uncomfortable again, but his left hand flew up to my bottom and held me still with an iron grasp. I froze, and as he lifted his head to sample the other side of me, I managed to choke out the words, "I...I'm nervous." Don't be. This was all he responded. He seemed to be drunken by my smell and I struggled to pull coherent sentences from his mind.

I started taking in shallow breaths through my mouth, and I was unable to rip my attention away from what was happening at my waist. Carlisle pressed the straight bridge of his nose in between the two round balls that were held restricted in my fleshy sac. He seemed to be in a trance as he gently would move his head from side to side. He then began to trail the cold tip of his nose up my shaft, and as he did so, drops of crystalline liquid oozed from my tip. Embarrassment gripped at me, but I wasn't able to dwell on it as I marveled at the care and attention my guardian was bestowing upon me. His eyes were gently closed, and my heart softened as I watched him, oh so tenderly, press his cool lips against my hardness. As I saw him linger there, I was amazed how a gesture so small could be such an powerful expression of love.

Carlisle's eyes opened and trailed on his own hand as it gently wrapped around the base of my rigid appendage. He felt the muscles in my legs tense in fear at this more physical gesture, and he pulled his gaze up to mine. You are perfect, Edward. Everything about you, your body...your soul. With that thought, he again leaned into me and parted his lips near my head. I held in and released short bursts of air as I watched in petrified disbelief and anticipation. Carlisle's moist tongue crept out between the two rows of his straight, white teeth and timidly tasted me. We were both surprised by the sound of fabric being ripped; I hadn't realized that I was grasping at what was left of my pant legs, and further destroying them.

"Are you all right, Edward? I can stop--"

"No!" I ducked my head instantly after the unapproved exclamation left my lips. I hadn't meant to be so adamant, but that brief sensation of his tongue on me was damn near irresistible. I had never felt anything like that before. The only sexual experience I had at all was what I had inflicted upon myself a handful of times. It was always a rushed, shameful procedure that was done out of necessity, and not for the pursuit of pleasure. As Carlisle went back to me, his lips parted around the end of my penis and I felt the cold moisture of his mouth and tongue. My eyes rolled back in my head and a low groan rumbled out of my chest. I want you to feel good.

While his hand gripped me firmly, holding me up to his mouth, Carlisle carefully worked his tongue around the circumference of my head. He did everything incredibly slowly, I think to not scare me and to allow me time to tell him to stop if I wanted to, but all it did was torture me into a state of frenzied want. As he began sucking rhythmically at me, I sensed his tongue probing my tip. I didn't know what he was looking for until I felt it; his tongue found the small, vestigial slit it was seeking and massaged itself into it in a dizzying motion. I taste you, Edward. A sharp hiss curled at my lips as I felt a jolt of previously undiscovered titillation shoot directly from his tongue into my core.

Not removing his mouth, Carlisle looked up to examine my face. Your eyes have gone black. I gritted my teeth and bore my stare into his, hoping that I would urge him to continue with out saying that that is what I now needed.

Carlisle closed his eyes, and swirling his tongue again around my engorged member, he pushed his mouth down further on me so that his lips met his hand clenched at my hilt. When the sensation of myself being engulfed by such a wet, moving orifice registered, something changed in me. I was no longer ashamed. I was no longer frightened. I was filled with an overpowering lust. I wanted more.

As I examined this surprising self-revelation, my hips began to jerk towards Carlisle on instinct, my muscles clenching and releasing with the rhythm of his own movements. I began to pant audibly, the sounds of my excitement acting as a catalyst and heightening the tangible energy that surrounded us. My noises seemed to encourage him to go faster and to be less cautious. As his mouth slid up and down my throbbing penis with an increasing urgency, I let my head fall back and moaned loudly. The feeling was so intense and incredible that I was completely powerless and out of control of my reactions. As I strained my hips further towards him, desperate for more and more, I raised a shaking hand and wove my fingers into his smooth, golden hair. He groaned in response and the vibration against me made my head snap forward. I must have looked terrifying as my coal-black eyes narrowed and a low snarling hiss leaked out of me as I watched Carlisle's head bob mercilessly against my body. His hair that was never once out of place was now clenched tightly between the gaps in my fingers. I pushed and pulled against his flaxen hair with his motions, urging him to go harder, deeper, and more recklessly.

Does it feel good, Edward? Do you like what I'm doing for you?

Between my clenched teeth, my voice had been altered into a desperate rasp, "More..." I whimpered, almost begging, "Please..."

I could feel his lips smile around me, and he removed his hand from my shaft and plunged his mouth down onto me hard, taking in my entirety. Swallowing around me, I felt the tip of my glans rub over the slick smoothness of his throat and I felt a sickening, sinking pleasure in the pit of my stomach. My body tightened and prepared for my impending release. Carlisle must have felt it too, because he closed his lips around me and yanked his head up, removing his mouth. I looked at him confused and panicked. Did I upset him? Did I do something wrong?

I didn't have time to think any more detrimental thoughts because in a blur, Carlisle's face was mere inches from mine. His hand grasped the back of my neck, and as my wide eyes searched his, a low growl stirred in his chest. My Edward...

His fingers laced into my variegated, auburn hair and pulled my head back roughly. Without hesitation, he crushed his mouth against mine, and his agile tongue pushed itself between my lips. In my shock, I submitted to him, allowing my mouth to be filled with the mingling of our tastes. As his lips moved against mine in a controlled desperation, I found myself reaching my own tongue out to him. I didn't think anymore. I was now responding with reflexes that I didn't know I possessed; I had never kissed anyone before. As I mirrored his motions, pushing my tongue around his, I felt my groin surge and twitch as I explored the razor edges of his teeth. He pressed his mouth against mine so that there was no space between us. I only vaguely noticed that my chair begin to strain under the stress of our combined and warring pressures. The world spun around me as we kissed, and Carlisle gently began to release his grip on my hair, parting his mouth from mine. His breathing ragged, he fluidly sank back to the ground in front of me.

On one bended knee, Carlisle returned his mouth to me. I sucked in a sharp breath as all of my senses were now heightened and electrically charged. The sensations of what he was doing to my body was all I could focus on, and I looked at the ceiling but saw nothing. My chest was heaving violently as shaky breaths forced their way in and out of my lungs.

As Carlisle's cold lips wrapped around me tightly, he spoke to me again: Don't you see how much I care for you? I'll do anything for you Edward...anything. My muscles tightening, I bent my head to look at him as he gracefully worked his tongue around my shaft. I bit my lip and watched in darkened lust as he seemed to be sucking at me with an insatiable, dark hunger.

When I felt his teeth graze my hypersensitive skin, my mouth fell open, and I gasped. "Jesus...oh, God..."

As I called to the heavens to deliver me from this exquisite torture, Carlisle continued his meticulous quest for my pleasure. I felt I could hardly take much more, and a foreign noise that I can only describe as a contemptuous sob filled the air. I guess he took pity on me then, and began to bring me to my climax. I was a desperate man now, and as I bucked my hips roughly towards his mouth, I yanked up my shirt, ready to receive the repercussions of this act on my stomach.

Carlisle then cradled my testes in his hand and massaged, gently at first, while he continued to force his mouth down onto me further and deeper each descent. As he cupped me, he started to pull, and I felt my penis begin to swell. I feared for a moment it might physically explode at this new and punishing ecstasy.

Let go, Edward. I want you to. He grasped my balls firmer in his iced grip and plunged his mouth down on me once more until his nose was buried into my hair. I felt a violence take over my body and I knew it was coming. I tried to pull his head off of me, not wanting to dirty him further, but he only clamped his lips down around me tighter. I was powerless. I felt my orgasm start of rumble deep within me, and there was no stopping it now. The muscles in my stomach contracted and bulged, and my chin tucked into my chest as I jerked forward with the force of the first waves of my release.

The deep, animalistic groan that ripped out of my chest would have been horrifying if I wasn't being so devastated by the pulse after pulse of pleasure that was quaking through my body. The same hands that I was just using to pull his head away were now pushing his head down onto me. I could feel the tip of my penis pump against the back of his throat as he worked to swallow around me.

Although I had no living heart to beat wildly in my chest, my body trembled with energy, from my center to the tips of my fingers that were now slowly sliding out of my creator's hair. I sagged against the back of the chair as I panted. Carlisle slowly pulled off of me, and sat back on his heels, looking into my heavy-lidded eyes.

Even if it is fleeting, Edward. Even if it is fleeting...

He touched his thumb to the corner of his mouth where a thin line of shimmering liquid lay. He pulled his handkerchief out of his pocket, and without a word, delicately dabbed it away. I tried to say something, to say anything, but there were no words to express to him what I felt.

He never looked at me again that night. He smoothed his rumpled oxford shirt, re-buttoned his vest, and turned away from me. I was becoming more aware of my nakedness, and as I grasped at the edges of my tattered clothing, a heavy, embroidered drape fell across me. I lifted my head to see Carlisle methodically arranging the cloth on me, his features fixed and solemn. I opened my mouth to speak, but again, no words came to me.

Carlisle gently placed his hands on either side of my head, letting my hair slide between his fingers. His eyes closed, he bent and pressed his lips to the crown of my head in the tenderest expression of his caring. Less than a moment later, he was by the door to his study, his hand on the brass knob, his back to me.

Goodnight, Edward.

This is all he said to me, and this was all that needed to be said. I understood now, how he cared for me. He was my creator, and I his creation. And we were alone in this world. But I could feel now that as long as Carlisle existed, he would never cease to try to bring me whatever comfort he could. Not just to atone for the damnation he bestowed upon me, but out of love. He would never leave me, or disown me, or judge me. I pulled the thick drape up to my chin, laid my head back and stared into the smoldering coals of the dying fire. Sitting in my beautiful, deafening silence, I for the first time in what was my eternity felt the sense that I was at home.