Disclaimer: Not mine, crazy bitches.

Morning Glory

His skin glows in the morning light and it takes everything from within me to resist how delicious he looks.

His hair is more wild than it should be, and my stomach stirs with thoughts about last night… about how exactly that hair came to look so freshly fucked. It's copper-colored and soft to the touch, and when he leaves it as long as it is right now, it falls into his eyes in just the right way. It shouldn't come as a surprise that I love the fuck out of his hair. I love the color and the deep contrast it is to the color of my thighs.

The sheets are resting mid-torso and I can't help the desire to run my hand down his stomach.

Edward doesn't have a six-pack, but he packs. He has the most delectable set of ridges in his torso that doesn't look unnatural or synthetically created. It is effortless and he is hard. Edward has the most beautiful body. His skin is slightly tanned and I don't need to blink to remember how he looks with his shirt off and he's running after the volleyball. I could play back the way his muscles tighten and his body arches with perfect clarity when he is in mid-air, reaching up with one strong arm, pulling back and firing.

I doubt beach volleyball has ever looked so good.

He has a smooth chest, hairless, but I know that if I push the sheet back just a little bit more, his happy trail will guide me to the national treasure. From under his arm, I lean up and kiss his chest, right over his heart, but he doesn't move because his breathing is still steady and the smile that creases his lips tells me he's still dreaming.

I trail my lips from his chest to his neck, licking at his salty skin and feeling a burn in my stomach begin to ignite.

I want to wake him, but he is still tired out. I tire him out.

The thought makes a grin steal across my lips and I slide out from under his arm long enough to look into his face. His mouth is positively sinful. I wonder why I never noticed when we were younger. Those lips are talented, almost as talented as his fingers. The things they are capable of doing would make old women cry. The words he speaks, whether in lust or in love… the way it feels on my body, the way he can go from soft to hard in seconds, the way he teases…

They are pink and slightly dry, but I know how I can make them wet.

I brush my lips lightly over his chin and my thighs clench with the small grumble he makes and he turns his body away. I think I should be offended, but the hand that he has on my ass falls to one of my thighs and he doesn't know what he's doing—I doubt he ever knows what he's doing—but I can feel my body react and he needs to wake up.

His eyelashes are long.

It should be unnatural for a man to have such long eyelashes. His eyes are moving underneath his eyelids and I can see his eyelashes touching his cheekbones because they're so fucking long. I want to see those eyes, see the verdant green glow darken when he wants me.

I want him, oh I want him so much.

But he's still fucking sleeping.

I press my lips against his softly, then harder, but he doesn't wake. The frustration in my veins is starting to turn me on even more, because I want him and he's sleeping and his body is mine—he's said so himself—so doesn't it make sense if I just take what I want? I hope he doesn't mind if I play with him before he wakes.

My hand slides from his stomach, under the sheet and I almost moan out loud when I feel the hair brush against my hand. From underneath the sheet, I can see Edward's dreams are making him happy, but not happy enough. I could make him happy.

He's semi-hard and the way he feels in my hand makes me want to cry out until the whole world can hear how much of a god Edward is. I'm certain he knows he's delicious in every way, but it's not until he's in my mouth that he really understands the extent.

I can feel him hardening even further and he lets out a low moan as I begin kissing down his stomach. He really is so beautiful. Edward, you're beautiful.

A white streak flashes across my vision when I feel a finger that isn't my finger touching me between my thighs. I can't open my eyes because he's trailing his finger right down my slit and I can feel how rough he is, and then I can't, because I'm getting so wet, there's a film of juice over my lower lips.

He stops his finger and I snap my eyes open in time to see drowsy green eyes, an adorable sleepy look in Edward's eyes as he looks at me from underneath his impossibly long eyelashes. He groans and closes his eyes before the hand he has between my thighs is lifted until he runs it from my back to my ass, caressing it softly.

I squeeze him in my hand and he groans again, almost a growl, and the sleepy look in his eyes darkens until they are a dark, mossy green. I know that look, I know that look well and despite how sleepy he still looks, I need him.

His finger is back, running softly between my lower lips and I know, he can feel how much I need him.

I don't let up on the hand that's playing with him from underneath the sheets and now that he is awakening, he's becoming harder and bigger in my hands. He's almost ready and by God, am I ready. I move and almost whimper when his finger leaves me once more, but it's a small price to pay because when I throw off the sheets, he is ready and waiting, big and thick, saluting me.

I kiss him, the very tip, and feel Edward's hand on my ass once more when he moans, low and loud.

But I won't take him in my mouth. No, I can't. I need him inside.

I think I might have said that out loud because he moans again and lifts me away from him so that he can pull me up and kiss me properly on the lips. Morning breath and whatever else doesn't matter because the way his tongue slides into my mouth makes me picture how he plans to slide into me in another way and I can't play for long because I need him, I need him so much.

I think he may have called my name, but I kiss him once more, cup his cheeks into both of my hands and kiss him with all I'm worth until we're both breathless and I can feel the wetness sliding down my legs. I think I may have begged him, but I can't be certain, because his fingers are back with the slow stroking and I moan loud, so loud, when he gently eases a finger into me. The wetness makes him slide in effortlessly, and it isn't long before there are two fingers stoking the fire in my stomach and I'm moaning and riding his hand with abandon.

The sleepy look in his eyes is still there, but I intend to rectify that immediately.

I tear his hand away from my pussy and guide him roughly until he's poised perfectly—always perfect—at my entrance. With his hands on my ass and my hands on his shoulders, we move and in a second, everything is right because we're together, together.

He feels so good. The stretch is a burning pleasure and the way he feels inching in and out of me makes me want to cry out. I think I do. I can't stop it. Because he feels so good, like he's trying to burrow deep inside my body until every part of us is one person like our hearts are. The burn is relentless and I try to go faster and harder on top of him but evidently, it's not fast enough.

I'm under him in a second and he's no longer sleepy and I couldn't be happier because he's looking at me with dark, hungry eyes and when I slam my lips to take his, squeezing myself around him in the process, he groans loudly and pushes deeper inside me. When I pull my lips away from him, it's to see the lust still apparent in his eyes, softened with affection.

I love you.

The tempo slows and his hand trails from my hip to my outer thigh and it feels so good when he's going slow. Hell, it always feels good with him. The burn is tightening and I think I ask him to please go faster. He answers with a groan and leans forward until his forehead is pressed against my shoulder. The movement seats him even deeper inside me and I can't handle it. It's getting to be too much. I'm close, so close, but I need a little more.

He knows though, he always knows, and he bites my shoulder, not enough to cause real pain, and pistons his hips into me faster. I wrap my legs even harder around him until I can't get any closer. His lips are on mine in a frenzy and his hand is on my ass, urging me deeper into his hips. My pelvis hurts because he's going so hard, but every push slams him against my clit and every pull makes my walls feel the ridges of his beautiful cock and I want him, all of him, always—

He says my name like a prayer against my lips and his voice is gravelly and sexy when he tells me I feel so hot and tight underneath him. He says he wants me like this every second of everyday and then he groans out, long and low, that he loves me.

I don't hear anything else because I can only see white as the coil in my stomach snaps and I'm falling and flying at the same time and I'm hot enough to melt ice and blind with pleasure because Edward knows every inch of my body and he knows how to make me feel so fucking good all of the time.

Vaguely, I can feel him still moving and my stomach is still tightening and honestly, he's too fucking hot.

He presses a finger against my clit and I'm falling again, cumming so hard I feel like I've gone blind.

I don't think it's normal to have this much pleasure. Am I really allowed so much? But I don't think about that for long because I can hear both of our ragged breathing and feel him peppering soft kisses everywhere on my face and when I open my eyes, it's to see that Edward has that sleepy, content smile on his lips and a fire in his eyes that I will never tire seeing.

He kisses me, long and slow, and I can still feel him inside me and the wetness on my thighs slowly dripping on the sheets.

When he pulls back, he presses his forehead to mine and chuckles low, a crooked smile taking his lips.

"Morning, Bella."

Hehehe, I'm such a freak. Review if you love me? :)