Tuesday, May 1, 2012

Chapter 1

*^*A Taste of Honey*^* ~ SoapyMayhem

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter 1: Unexpected

**Edward Cullen**

"Mr. Cullen, there's a call for you on line one. It's your father, Sir- he says it's urgent," my assistant announced from the doorway of my home office.

"Thank you, Conner, that will be all for today," I dismissed before turning away from my laptop to reach for the phone on my desk.

"Father, how are you?" I asked, concerned.

"Not so well, I'm afraid," he replied rather glumly, his tone setting me on alert. "Doc Banner's asked me to come in tomorrow for a few tests. The old fart thinks it might be colon cancer. I told him I thought it was just Esme's spicy Southern cooking tearing me up, but he's inclined to disagree and well, I'm inclined to tell him to shove the tests up his ass, but Esme would kill me if I didn't see it through. Not to mention after your mother…" he trailed off, knowing I would understand the reference to Mom. It only takes one person close to you getting cancer to make you take the necessary precautions and test regularly. We both knew too well what that was like.

"I'm sure it'll be fine, Dad. No matter what, we'll get through it together." It was hard to hold the emotion in as I offered assurance when there was no way I could possibly guarantee it, but I offered it anyway - it was what he needed to hear and what I needed convince myself of so I didn't drive myself insane with worry.

"I know son…" he took a ragged breath before continuing, "… also, don't tell your sister, until we know for sure. I don't want her worrying. She has enough on her mind with Jasper away, as it is."

"Yes, sir," I agreed sincerely.

"Anyway, Esme's gonna lay off the cayenne for a while. I'm sure that will clear my gut right up." He chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. "Now, I didn't call you to get you all worked up and worried about me - I need a favor."

"What can I do for you?" I replied, instinctually using the politician voice that came out whenever I was asked for a favor.

"Well, I was supposed to make an appearance at a high school graduation ceremony tomorrow to present the scholarship, and I'm afraid I won't be able to make it," he replied with a remorseful sigh.

Announcing the recipient of the Elizabeth Masen Cullen Scholarship for Excellence in Art was something he looked forward to every year. The fact that he was even asking me only gave me even more cause for concern, if only for the reason that he was more worried about the results of these tests than he let on.

"- besides, I'm sure they'd rather have a former Senator there to present the award than little old me," he added playfully.

Having grown tired of public speaking in the last few years, I wanted to argue that I didn't have the time, but frankly, since January - the end of my six-year term in the Senate - I had all the time in the world. There was also the fact that, after all he'd been through, I could deny my father nothing, especially with these tests looming overhead.

"You don't give yourself enough credit, Dad, but of course, I see no reason why I can't fit it into my schedule. Have Kate email me the details," I agreed happily.

Carlisle and I chatted awhile longer before he told me Esme was calling on the other line.

Esme was good for my father - kept him sane, sober, and well-fed. For a while there, my sister and I believed that he was trying to replace Mom, but as soon as we met Esme, there was no mistaking that she couldn't have been any more different. Where my mother had been quiet, reserved, as well as a few years older than Carlisle, Esme was brash, outspoken, and quite a bit younger - forty-one, only two years older than me. They'd already been together a little over six years, and Alice and I couldn't have been happier for them both.

Nearly fifteen years had passed since my mother, a highly acclaimed painter and philanthropist, died of breast cancer. A few years later when Carlisle had better come to terms with my mother's death, he created the scholarship foundation in her name, to be awarded to one young artist every year - a full ride scholarship to the Art Institute in Seattle and a semester abroad in Italy. The competition was always tough, especially since it wasn't based solely on the artist's talent. The winner was needed to be able to prove a financial hardship and must have maintained a high grade point average throughout their high school career. It was a tough scholarship, and the highly selective requirements usually weeded out those students who didn't need the money the award afforded or simply weren't dedicated enough to their education.

My Blackberry chimed with a new email alert from Kate Denali, my father's assistant.

Seeing there were attached files, I turned my attention back to my laptop so I could review all the details I would need for tomorrow's ceremony.

Mr. Cullen,

Thank you for doing this, Sir. Your father is so happy. I'm sure knowing that you'll be there taking care of the ceremony will set his mind at ease.

Here is everything you should need for tomorrow. I've also enclosed a bit of information I was able to obtain from the recipient's application as well as her artist portfolio - which is pretty amazing, by the way. Good luck tomorrow, Sir, and thank you again.

-Kate Denali

Event Details

Saint Mary of the Sacred Heart Catholic Academy, Port Angeles

11:00 a.m. Tuesday, June 3rd 2011

Contact: Sister Jane Volturi

Recipient: Isabella Marie Swan

Short Bio: Isabella, age 18 is the daughter of Police Chief Charles Swan of Forks. Isabella's mother,Renee Swan is deceased. Isabella has a 4.0 grade point average and will be graduating with honors. She has participated in few after-schoolactivities - French club, yearbook staff, and also plays the cello. She volunteers twice weekly at the Port Angeles Children's Hospital teaching art classes.

I sat there, stunned, thinking about this young woman and how she managed to find time to keep up with all her hobbies, as well as maintain those grades, and to top it off, work on her art and music. Curiosity got the better of me, and I found myself downloading the second attachment which was a folder filled with several image files, labeled under the filename Isabella Portfolio.

As I looked at them one by one, I became enthralled. My God, I was shocked by what was seeing- so much raw emotion to be poured out of a teenage soul onto the canvas. Quite frankly, I couldn't stop staring.

The moment I saw the first piece, I was determined to have one. As I continued appreciating her work, I knew there was no question - I would own one, even if I had to commission her to paint one for me.

Money was no object, and the fact that she was even considered for this scholarship told me her family was by no means rich, and throwing a hefty sum her way was likely to get me what I desired.

After presenting the award tomorrow, I would insist on speaking to Miss Swan and her father about acquiring one of her paintings.

An hour or so later, I made my way downstairs to the kitchen to have dinner.

I set about the task of preparing myself a meal - a piece of salmon coated with a crisp red pepper panko crust and a lemon cream sauce, paired with grilled asparagus seasoned with fresh rosemary, garlic, and butter, and a glass of chardonnay.

As much as I had enjoyed having a live-in personal chef and a couple of housekeepers when I was Senator and simply too busy to cook, I was thankful now that I had the estate to myself.

The possibilities my newfound privacy afforded me had me a bit too excited for my own good.

It had been far too long since I'd allowed myself the pleasure of visiting the club - much less opening the doors to my now underused playroom. Last Saturday night, I'd considered dropping by Onyx, Seattle's only elite BDSM club, for the first time in years. No longer under the scrutiny of being a member of the Senate, I was eager to start looking for a sub again, but Alice had called last minute to inform me that Jasper was making an unexpected visit in town and had asked the family to meet for dinner so he could make an announcement. Alice was thrilled to announce that Jasper had not only popped the question, but his firm had decided to make him partner in the Seattle office, which meant he'd be moving here to be close to Alice at the end of June.

I couldn't help but be a bit jealous that my sister had already found true love at the age of twenty-six. She made me feel ancient, and paired with the knowledge that I was about to turn thirty-nine next month and hadn't managed to keep a relationship - neither D/S or vanilla - for more than a year told me that I was likely to be doomed to lead a life of solitude.

I'd been a Dom since college, had only collared three subs, and had two serious vanilla relationships - none of which had ended very well. Each sub relationship had fallen apart for one reason or another, and none of the woman I dated could give me what I needed in the bedroom.

My job hadn't made things any easier, either. Since I'd been sworn in as Senator, I swore off having collared subs and chose to play once in a while when I could make a trip outside of the States. I had to be discreet because my image couldn't afford to be tainted by some gossipy sub running to the press, bragging that Senator Cullen worked her over with a riding crop while he fucked her ass-over-backwards in a sex swing - that imagery alone would have been enough to give the majority of my older constituents coronaries.

Aside from hitting up an elite club in Italy a few times last summer and twice the year before, I hadn't played much since I became a Senator.

My last relationship ended in February and was an epic disaster, lasting only four months. I just couldn't fake it anymore; I needed something more - control - and Tanya couldn't give me that. When I finally showed her my playroom and who I really was, she realized what I needed, and that it wasn't her.

After looking through Isabella's paintings a few more times, I resigned myself to the bedroom.

The thought of returning to the club and taking on another sub had me hard and straining against my slacks. I was so desperate to have a hot little mouth swallowing my cock that I toyed with the idea of calling up my cousin Emmett to see if he'd be willing to part with his wife Rosalie for the night. They were both switches and loved to play with others - not my thing as I don't share, but if Emmett was willing to loan her out to his poor horny cousin…

It was a tempting idea, until I remembered the last time I played with her and how awkward I felt when I saw her at the family Christmas party a few weeks later. With the Fourth of July coming up next month, I wasn't eager to have fresh images of her lips wrapped around my cock flashing through my brain while she sampled Carlisle's famous bratwurst. I chuckled to myself lightly before slipping out of my slacks and dress shirt and into the steamy shower in my en suite bathroom.

As streams of water cascaded down my back, I imagined myself back in my playroom.

I'm not alone in the dark blue room. My submissive is there kneeling, and blindfolded, trusting me and presenting her body for my pleasure. The light pink buds of her supple breasts are calling for my teeth to nibble them, while the sensual arch of her back begs for the whispered touch of my fingertips. Her mouth is open slightly, and I see her pink tongue peak out to wet her lips.

She senses my presence, and her breath quickens in anticipation.

I circle her a few times like a lion stalking its prey.

When I see her parted thighs coated with her sticky sweetness, I don't have to guess that it's my cock she craves. She's been a bad girl tonight, so I will make her tight ass pink before seeking my pleasure inside her hot mouth. She'll have no release, and I tell her so.

"On the whipping bench, girl," I command darkly. She scrambles quickly over to the bench and gets into position for her punishment.

In no time, I have her arms bound at her sides and her legs straddling the bench. Her sopping pussy is inches from the leather cushion of the bench, but just out of reach for her to seek the friction she needs - the release I control, that I deny.

Her pale flesh in the candle light is almost translucent, and I can't wait to see it turn pink from the sting of my palm. I remind her of the reason she is being punished. It's not a serious offense, so her punishment isn't too severe - four warm-up spankings and seven for punishment. She takes them, counting each one off with a yelp every time my hand connects with her tender flesh. Her little whimpers of pain make it seem that she is uncomfortable, but the gush of arousal drenching my bench tells me otherwise. I tell her what a dirty little girl she is, and that dirty girls get fucked in the mouth - this makes her moan, loudly - so eager for my cock.

"Open wide, dirty girl" - I command before thrusting quickly into her hot mouth. She licks and sucks, getting me nice and wet before hollowing out her cheeks and sucking me to the back of her throat. She takes it all so good, and I don't even try to stop myself from pumping into her the way I want. I tell her what a good little girl she is before shoving my cock roughly down her throat.

"Swallow" - I command brokenly, and she does. She knows I'm about to cum so she keeps on swallowing the way I love.

"Fuck," I shouted loudly asI tightened my grip on my throbbing shaft, imagining the fantasy woman taking my big cock like a champ all while looking up at me with big, innocent doe eyes. It wasn't long before I began to cum in hot thick spurts that swirled down the drain along with the nice little fantasy my brain concocted.

My overactive imagination, coupled with my past experiences, gave me a nice little bank of fantasies that I stored in my cranium, but they were nothing when compared to the real thing. Far too much time had passed since I'd taken control of a woman whose sole purpose was to submit to my will - my pleasure. Maybe I sounded like a selfish bastard, but I'd waited long enough. I wanted warmth, silky soft skin, and a tight little hole I could use whenever, however I pleased.

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