Fan Fiction
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The Art Of Online Dating
He complied by running his thumb across my nipples, immediately making them harden before his very eyes. I groaned at the feel of it, feeling a dull ache between my legs. The feeling surprised me, but I knew I wanted more of him, needed more of him.
I felt my hips rock once against him, feeling him through his pants still creating an amazing feeling at my center. My eyes flew open in shock from the sensation. I looked at him to see that his eyes were shut and his jaw was clenched.
"God, Bella, I want you so bad." he said, groping my breasts roughly.
I moaned loudly and rocked my hips once more. He moaned in return and I slid my hands back down to the top of his pants. He released my breasts and pulled me to his side so that we were laying face-to-face.
I slid my hand further down, rubbing my hand across the screaming bulge in his jeans.
"Bella, oh, you have no idea what you do to me." he said through clenched teeth.
He slid his hand down my side, reaching over to my backside, squeezing gently. His hand then slid to the front to slide down my front, cupping my sweet, heated center. Just him being there caused me to react. I ended up squeezing him where my hand was still placed and he let out a throaty growl. He let out a muffled “Bella,” before he started to rub a finger across my bundle of nerves through my jeans.
My body immediately started to speed up his slow rhythm, begging him for more. I slid my hand back up his jeans and started to undo the button. I was unzipping his pants, when a sound interrupted us, startling us both. We sat bolt upright listening for the sound again.
It was Jake. I heard a light yelp from the kitchen. That was his signal for "I gotta pee." Edward and I both groaned. I pulled on my shirt, not bothering with my bra, reluctantly sliding off the bed.
"I'll be right back. Don't move a muscle." I threw over my shoulder, as I walked over to Jake.
I walked into the kitchen and slid the cage door open, letting Jake run out and over to the sliding glass door.


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