General Informative Shit: So, eh, yeah - someone wanted a Bella/Edward lemon. You wish has been granted.

Warning(s): Rough sex, slight non-con but not really at the same time. Take it as you want, it's sex anyhow.

Summary: AU. Lemon. Isabella Swan, frightening intelligent and completely apathetic to her surroundings. Her assistant, one Mr. Edward Cullen, has just about had enough.

Reader Worthy Info: I don't write only Twilight pairings. You're welcome to throw whatever at me and I'll probably write it if I know what you're talking about. So, eh, yeah - I suppose I do requests now.

Howling

Isabella Swan wasn't one easily intimidated and she had really bad sense when it came to things remotely good for her. In fact, she seemed to bypass them – strolling past the heavenly gates of paradise and right past the waving guards with the little devil horns. It wasn't that she was stupid, far from it. In fact, Isabella was frightening intelligent and it had left her vaguely apathetic to the world.

She hadn't always been that way. She had some distant memories of her parents before it was confirmed that she had an eidetic memory. They had changed after that. Having a prodigy daughter had gotten to their heads and Isabella had grown-up knowing that she was better than others, more beautiful than others, more special – and it had left her out of touch with the world. After all, why allow her to play games when she could read mathematics far above the level of her classmates?

She tented her fingers together, eyeing her assistant who was trying to open the door with his back, half fumbling with the fingers of one trembling hand. The other was balancing a large stack of papers and folders.

Isabella glanced at the clock as he stumbled inside with a breath of relief. "You are late Mr. Cullen." She informed him.

She had had him for two months now. A coppery head of dim intelligence that she had put her hopes on being better than the last airhead wandering into her office. Ms. Mallory had been an absolute nightmare and Isabella had made sure to inform her of that at every turn. Because if you didn't point people's faults out, how could they ever hope of overcoming them? So was the lesson of her first professor coming to home-school her.

"I'm sorry Ms. Swan." He said and Isabella recognized the deep breath as a sign of low patience.

Her office was large. Wall wide windows opened up behind her, looking over the beautiful New York City. It was late, nearing nine pm, so it was already dark outside with a world of colorful lights stretching out as snow spiraled from above. Nearly everyone in the building had left. It was Christmas but Isabella had never celebrated it and wasn't about to start.

"Ms. Swan?" She looked distastefully at her assistant. His hands fiddling with the hem of his white shirt, occasionally diving up to fix the amber tie around his neck or drag through his hair. The eyes that wouldn't look at her properly and the shuffling of feet.

"Eyes up, Cullen." She snapped and he jerked to look at her, cheeks warming at the reprimand. "I've told you over and over to look at me while you speak."She leaned back in the leathery chair that had been her only indulgence that year. "Well?" She huffed impatiently when he didn't immediately begin to talk.

"It's Christmas." He blurted out.

Isabella looked at him, very much unimpressed. "Which I am aware of Mr. Cullen." She drummed her fingers against the armrest. "Well? What about it?"

He swallowed thickly; a sign of nerves she recognized vaguely. "Well, every year my siblings and I gather at our parents' house to celebrate." He said slowly. "And I was wondering if it would be alright for me to leave?"

"No." She said simply. She refocused her attention on the papers in her hands.

"No?" He echoed dumbly.

Isabella nodded distantly. "No means no, Mr. Cullen. Would you please get back to work? If we can get these papers in by tomorrow morning then-"

There was a slam, the sound of a fist hitting her desk hard tearing her attention upwards. It wasn't the first time someone had looked at her with those eyes. Dark and angry, practically brimming with loathing. He was close; leaning over the desk to look at her and his little mouth was pulled back in a snarl that reminded her of the large dog that used to bark at her on her way home from school. She realized her eyes looked pretty so close; green and intense.

She hitched an eyebrow upwards. "Please refrain from hitting my furniture Mr. Cullen. I doubt you could afford to replace that desk."

"You absolutely insufferable witch!" He slammed his fist down again, harder this time, and Isabella eyed it disapprovingly. She actually liked that desk. "I have been here for two fucking months and I have yet to find something even remotely human about you!" He cried out, as if she'd done him a personal disservice by being herself.

Her mouth thinned at the show of temper. "Stop acting like a child Mr. Cullen." She snapped. "I do not tolerate tantrums."

"Tantrum!?" He shouted and his fist was on her desk again. "Is that what you call it?" He laughed darkly. "You insufferable bitch."

"I can assure you I am not a female dog." Isabella informed him dryly. "Stop this or I will be forced to fire you."

"Fire me?" He echoed. "Is that all you have to say?"

Isabella tilted her head with a smirk. "You are but a boy, Cullen. Do try to listen to what the grown-ups have to say."

She should have expected it, she supposed. He reacted the exact same way any child had done when she was younger and twisting their words against them. The fist that had been so furiously slammed against her desk met her face, hard. There was a crunch and her head slammed backwards, nose broken and furiously bleeding. Her hand darted up automatically to prevent it from dropping at her blouse.

She looked up at him; seven years younger than her and pale as a ghost he was starting at her, open-mouthed.

"Surprised, Mr. Cullen?" She said, hating the slur to her words courtesy of her nose. "Only children act out." She used her free hand to yank her drawers open in search of a tissue. She jerked when something white pressed tentatively against her nose but took the handkerchief wordlessly.

"I'm sorry." He said; his eyes on the floor and voice barely a whisper.

"Eyes up, Mr. Cullen." She said tiredly. "Go do something productive."

She stuffed the white clean fabric into her nose to stench the bleeding, tilting her head up and closing her eyes as she took hold of her nose bridge and yanked it back into place without as much as a whimper. She wiggled her nose experimentally and satisfied it was in place cracked her eyes open.

She blinked at the green eyes entirely too close for her comfort. "What do you think you're doing Mr. Cullen?" She snapped, leaning back from him.

He wore black slacks and a white shirt today, like he always did. The only thing that ever changed about him was his tie. He always seemed to have a new one for each day. Today it was amber.

She became aware of her own tie, slimmer and dark blue against her white blouse. Or more accurately: she became aware of the hand curling around it. Piano hands; long and elegant.

"Do you know the first thing I thought when I met you?" He whispered; his breath warm against her face. "I thought: God, I'm lucky. Because surely it couldn't be anything but heaven working for such an exquisite art piece?" He placed his knee between hers, looming above her, and Isabella was starting to feel uneasy about the entire situation.

"Please remove yourself from my person, Mr. Cullen." She said with a tremble in her voice that she didn't want to admit to.

"My name is Edward." He told her sharply but then his face transformed and he practically leered. "But you can call me, Master." He yanked her upwards, forcing her head backwards as he molded his lips against her hungrily. Her hands shot out automatically but he caught them both, forcing them downwards as she struggled against him. She snarled and bit down hard, drawing blood, and he nipped at her sharply in response, warningly.

He pressed himself closer, his body heavy against hers as he finally withdrew, admiring her swollen lips. "Beautiful." He murmured.

Isabella couldn't see what he was doing but she heard her drawers open and closing as she struggled against the man who had pretty much seated himself in her lap. When she saw the duck tape her eyes widened. "Stop this immediately, Mr. Cullen!" She snapped as he drew a long stripe and yanked it off.

He yanked her up, forcing her to twirl around as he bound her hands together behind her back. She struggled, hands clenching and unclenching but he was stronger than her and she stumbled when he forced her back into the chair. "You will not get away with this Mr. Cullen." She snarled, furious.

He took another piece and slammed it over her mouth, effectively silencing her and she narrowed her eyes into slits.

She didn't like to admit it but something about the entire situation made something curl in her lower stomach. She was always in control of the situation, she made sure of it. Everyone obeyed by her rules and did what she said. Never had she been in a situation where she felt so incredibly helpless.

She didn't like it but at the same time something inside her absolutely loved it.

She shivered when he tugged her tie off, his hands ghosting over her skin as he slowly began to unbutton her blouse. His gaze was intense, hungry, as he took it and ripped it apart. Isabella cried out furiously behind the duct tape, struggling intensifying, but he didn't seem to care. Long fingers trailed the edges of her strapless bra, searching for the clasp and finally letting the globes of white flesh free.

Her nipples were dusty pink and Isabella jerked backwards, crying out in muffled protest as he kneeled down, hands curling around her back and pressing her forward as he sucked one into his mouth. It was warm and wet, tongue slimy and oh-so erotic as he curled his tongue around her nipple, flickering the hardening nub and just sucking it softly. He took his time, hands kneading her flesh softly as she trembled in his grip. He bit down and she arched her back, pressing herself closer as she cried out in muffled shock. He detached his mouth and blew on it, making her shiver as he leaned over and took the other one into his mouth.

Meanwhile he had started to unbutton his shirt, tugging it off and letting it fall to the floor with his tie. Isabella shivered, pressing herself back against the chair as he continued his ministrations to her breast which he was now suckling like a baby before swiveling his tongue around it in lazy circles. His hands found her skirt, dragging the zipper down and dragging it down her legs and past her high-heeled shoes. This left her only in her panties, quivering as he left her nipple and bent down to kiss the side of her knee and then further up, trailing a path to the place to the black fabric.

Isabella swallowed, half-heartedly pressing her legs together but he buffed them gently with his shoulder and she relented, opening her legs further as he kissed the fabric softly. She was quivering, unable to believe what was happening to her in her office and with whom. She had had sex before, of course. But not like this. Not with the care and slow strokes. People didn't touch her, not like this – ever.

She drew a sharp breath as he swiped his tongue over her clothed clit, arching her back and trembling as he took hold of her panties and gently tugged them down her long lean legs. It left her bare with a trail of dark pubic hair leading down to her pussy. He dove in, dragging his tongue against the slit and tasting the moisture that had gathered there from his ministrations. She cried out, legs tensing, as he pressed closer, large hands grabbing her thigh and forcing them down as his tongue dipped inside of her.

Isabella could hardly breathe, air stolen away from her as he sucked and nibbled, licking her with long sensual swipes and caressing her inner walls. She whimpered behind the duct tape as he shifted and a finger slid inside of her. She arched sharply, biting down hard on her cheek as another joined it, slowly diving in and out of her, curling deep inside and slowly dragging down her walls with just the slightest touch of nails to tease her.

He stopped suddenly, withdrawing and Isabella blinked blearily as the duct tape was yanked away from her mouth sharply. She grimaced, glaring up at him accusingly.

"Tell me what you want, Ms. Cullen." He demanded, fingers tracing her clit lazily. "Do you want me to fuck you?" He dipper into her slit teasingly. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?" He whispered huskily. "Fucked like the bitch you are."

"S-Shut up." She snarled weakly. "I don't beg for anything." She bared her teeth.

He shook his head mock sadly and yanked her up, grabbing her arms tightly as he forced her to bend down across her desk. He kicked her chair away, leaving her with her rump bare and facing the window and breasts squished against the paperwork on her desk. "What do you think you're doing?" She demanded, trembling as he unzipped his pants behind her. She could hear the fabric rustling as he kicked them off, shoes following.

Naked he pressed up against her, molding his straining erection between her cheeks and his chest against her back. "I am going to punish you." He promised her, his hands rubbed her shapely rear. "I am going to make you beg, Ms. Swan." He said huskily, kissing the space between her shoulder blades. "I will make you fall apart and there's absolutely nothing you can do about it." He smiled against her skin before straightening up.

With one hand he pressed her tied arms downwards, forcing her to lie pliant against her desk with only a pair of high-heels on.

"I don't know what kind of sick and deprived world you live in." She said darkly. "But you're not getting away with this, Mr. Cull-" She cried out, word lost as his hand slammed down on her cheek hard. There was nothing gentle about it. It was meant to hurt and they both knew it.

"I do believe the term Master would be more accurate." He said lightly, warningly.

"Fuck you." She snarled and cried out loudly when he repeated the slap against her other cheek.

He tsk'ed. "Silly Ms. Swan." He massaged her buttocks. "Doesn't know what's good for her."

"And I suppose you know, Master." She cried out when he slapped her again, even harder, sure to leave bruises on her flesh. "What the hell?" She cried. "I called you Master you fucking deprived son-of-a-bit-" But she didn't have time to finish it. His hand slammed down hard and fast, tearing a cry of shock from her when he did it again, and again, and again until she was positively howling.

She struggled against his hold, swearing him to the deepest pits of hell as her hands curled uselessly in the air. Her rump was flaming red and his hand unrelenting with its force. "Damn it, stop!" She cried. "Stop, stop, stop!" The pain and pleasure mixing together drove her insane, pussy clenching and unclenching desperately.

"Stop what?"

"Stop spanking me, please Master."

It stopped abruptly, leaving her nearly sobbing from relief. He hummed softly from somewhere behind her. "Good girl." He praised, rubbing her cheeks softly before dipping down to her weeping clit. He hissed. "Damn, you liked it." His voice was awed, fingers dipping into her clit. She shot forward, crying out from oversensitivity and he clicked his tongue. "One thing at a time…" He murmured, curling the wetness around his fingers and withdrawing.

Her eyes opened when he found her anus, pressing against the pink puckered hole slowly. She opened her mouth to protest but he clenched her buttock in warning and she fell silent, trembling from nearing so close to the edge.

He stretched her slowly, softly, and while it felt uncomfortable the pain eased quickly under his skilled fingers. They slid out and Isabella, knowing what was coming, could only lie there – helpless in the arms of her self-proclaimed Master.

He was wide, she realized soon, as he pressed himself slowly forward and she winced as the head of his cock popped inside of her. She had never taken anything up her arse before and the ring of muscles tensed in protest. He hissed sharply, murmuring at her to relax as he slowly slid deeper while stroking her skin softly. He was also long, reaching deep inside of her with her cheeks split obscenely apart.

He kissed her back. "Good girl." He praised. He had one hand on her hands, still pushing her downwards, while the other rested on the side of her hips. He made an experimental jerk with his hips and she bit down hard on her cheek to muffle a whimper.

He moved slowly in and out of her, testing the limits as she struggled not to cry out beneath him. It hurt and it felt weird and foreign but at the same time it made something inside of her tingle. As he pushed her forward her desk pressed against her clit, the ridge bringing pleasure as she panted. "God, you're tight." He whispered behind her, fingers tightening around her flesh as he made a sharp jab with his hips. She arched, scrambling to get a grip of herself, but Edward had taken it as a clear invitation and slammed into her hard. She hissed, fingers flexing as he began to pound her, drawing out and bruising her thighs with the force as he slammed her forward against the wood. The edge of the table rubbed against her clit with every jerk of his hips, his balls slapping against her as he fucked her.

As the pain from the penetration eased she became more aware of the teasing tingle of pleasure from his cock fucking her rectum and she groaned against the table.

Sinful little sounds of pleasure escaped her open mouth as he slammed her forward, using her arms as a leverage to pull her back against him as he shot his hips forward. Edward swore beneath his breath as the tight ring of muscles flexed around him, urging him deeper. His cock split her ass part in an obscene fashion, leaving him the perfect view to watch his cock vanish inside the tight hole as he pounded her hard, desperately seeking his release.

He pulled out of her abruptly, tearing a cry from her lips as he spun her around and dragged her off the edge and with him as he stumbled backwards into her chair. Had she been in her right mind Isabella would have been furious to have his sweaty arse in her precious chair but he was quick. She was only barely aware of straddling him before he pressed her down and slipped inside of her.

The walls of her clit clenched around him, wet and pounding and so very warm. He quivered, jerking his hips upwards. With desperate fingers he unwound the duct tape from her wrists.

"I want you to ride me." He told her, stroking her rump. "And I want to come deep inside of you, marking you as mine my little pet."

She swallowed, brown eyes glittering with emotions he had never before seen coming from the woman before him. She ducked her head and kissed his forehead. "Yes, Master." She purred and it probably the sexiest sound he'd ever heard in his life.

She lifted herself up and dropped herself sharply, his cock stabbing against her cervix and her back arching. Her breasts pressed against his face and he bit down hard on the closest one, making her cry out loudly. She began slowly but picked up speed quickly, whimpering as she fucked herself with his cock. Their mouths melded together, hot and heavy and Edward groaned as he felt his release coming closer.

Lifting her up he forced her to spin around in his lap, his arms hugging her back tightly against her chest as his hips jerked desperately against her. Before them the entire New York city was bathed in color, snow spiraling softly from above. He groaned as she gasped, her inner walls tightening around him. "You see that, pet?" He grunted. "Anyone looking in here would see you like this – fucked like a whore by your assistant." He gasped, forehead falling forward to rest against her back. "But you like that, don't you?" She moaned, grabbing at his cock desperately and his hands found her breasts, holding them as he fucked her.

He came fell over the edge, balls tensing as he released deep inside of her. She arched her back, crying out as he rubbed her clit furiously and he groaned as her walls milked him as she fell apart, trembling in his arms.

"Good girl," he praised the trembling woman softly. "Such a good girl." He stroked her hair gently.

Howling

"Are you sure about this?" Isabella asked skeptically for about the ninth time since they'd left her office. Edward laughed, tugging her out of her car. Edward had taken the Underground to work that day but she was unrelenting about leaving her precious baby on the empty parking lot and so they had taken the longer road to the Cullen residence.

"You worries are adorable." He told her, meaning it fully. She wore a black coat that was quickly becoming covered in snow and he reached up to brush some snowflakes from her dark hair.

She eyed him in displeasure. "I am not adorable Mr-" he gave her a look. "Edward." She corrected herself reluctantly. "And I am your boss." She reminded him.

"Who I just fucked." Edward added smugly.

The look she gave him was very much unimpressed.

He tugged at her hand urging her on and she reluctantly stepped forward. Her office clothes had been exchanged for practical winter clothing and Edward liked the dark jeans and sensible brown boots on her much more than the strict office clothing he'd always seen her in. The blue shirt she wore underneath was particularly sexy.

"But it's your family." She tried. I thought it was just you and your siblings?"

"And in-laws." He said easily. "My sister Alice married my best friend Jasper and my brother Emmett married Jasper's sister Rosalie. We're just one big family here."

She stopped, brown eyes looking up at her from between black lashes. "I… I have never really celebrated Christmas." She admitted, cheeks reddening in shame. "I don't really know how." She looked away.

Edward caught her chin, tilting her head up so that he could look at her eyes properly. He sighed. "There's so much I want to learn about you." He confessed. "I want to get to know you. The Bella hiding behind the mask of the cynical Ms. Swan."

"Bella?" She echoed, forehead scrunching up.

"My Bella." He agreed, kissing her forehead.