Author's note: I don't speak Italian. I'm not even Italian. I'm Irish. However, the thought of Edward speaking dirty in Italian is too hot to resist. If any of these words are wrong, don't blame me. Blame Yahoo! Babel Fish.
Also, this is not a Bella-loses-her-virginity-to-a-loving-Edward story. This is under the assumption these two have been going at it for awhile. So, canon except for the whole sex thing.
By the way, just because these two don't use a condom doesn't mean you shouldn't. Wrap it up, kids.
Studio dell'italiano
"Orologio."
"Clock."
"Telefono."
"Telephone."
"Maglione."
I paused, thinking. Across from me in the rocking chair sat Edward, my Italian textbook on his lap. He didn't really need it, as I was pretty sure he spoke better Italian than most people in Italy.
"Sweater?" I finally guessed. He nodded.
"Cuscino," he said, reading off the next vocabulary word. I threw a pillow over my head. "Correct," he chuckled.
"Ugh! Enough!" I complained, curling up into a ball on my bed. "We've been doing this for two hours." Almost immediately, I felt him sit beside me, one hand on my side.
"We can stop if you really want to, love," he relented, shrugging. "The final is coming up, and I know it isn't your best subject. I was trying to help." I blushed, feeling a twinge of guilt. I sat up, turning to face him.
"No, no, you are helping... I just suck. I don't understand it at all." I took his hand in mine, tracing his palm. "I just need some incentive."
"Incentive..." he repeated, his brow furrowing. After a moment, his eyes lit up. Before I could say anything more, he was on top of me, his sweet breath on my neck. His kisses were feather-light on my neck, snaking their way down to my collar and back up again.
"Fiore," he breathed against my jugular. My mind, already cloudy, worked double time to find the answer.
"Flower," I finally whispered. The kisses began again, this time on my jaw.
So this was my incentive. I didn't mind. This was probably the best incentive I could think of.
His kisses trailed up to my ear, and I felt his cool tongue dart out and lazily tickle my earlobe. My breath hitched in my chest. "Arancione."
I didn't bother thinking of the answer. There was no help for me now. Instead, I concentrated on unbuttoning the buttons on his shirt. That took a lot of concentration, considering his lips were now on my neck again. God that neck thing drove me crazy.
Focus Bella, I told myself, slipping the next small plastic circle through the hole. Finally, I was done, and I began to pull it down his shoulders. Abruptly, he stopped kissing me and got up. "No!" I gasped, grabbing for him.
A small smile played on his lips. "Arancione, Bella," he repeated.
I racked my brain, desperately trying to find the answer. "Orange," I practically shouted before pulling him back on top of me. He chuckled against my collarbone, tracing kisses on my clavicle.
I explored his chest, feeling the muscles tighten under my touch. I watched his biceps flex as he adjusted his weight. I could stare at his body all day, touch it all day. There was always a muscle or tendon my hand hadn't grazed over enough yet, a spot I hadn't kissed. My hands slid down to his stomach, tracing the perfect ridges of his abdomen. They rippled under my hand, and I felt his breath stop for an instant.
"Cucina," he murmured against my shoulder. I stopped for a moment and did my absolute best to think, terrified he would get up again.
"Kitchen." The kisses began again, moving back up my neck. I felt his cool tongue trace the pulsing veins in my neck, sucking lightly. A small sigh escaped my lips, and I arched my back. "God, Edward..."
He kissed me then, his cool lips pressing lightly against my own. His kiss became hungrier, his mouth parting. I mirrored him, my mouth allowing his to explore. His tongue lightly traced my bottom lip before recessing, coming out again to explore more.
Edward was such an amazing kisser it drove me insane. I had asked him before how he had learned so much, a question which he evaded. Of course, in one hundred years one had to learn a lot about the art of kissing. My repertoire consisted of... him. And an awkward eighth grade truth-or-dare, but the guy had missed so it hardly counted. Still, I couldn't be jealous when I knew I was reaping the benefits.
His hands held my waist, his left thumb tracing my hipbone. His right hand dipped down, his thumb and forefinger playing with a loose thread on the bottom of my shirt. A renegade finger traced the small bit of skin exposed on my stomach, sending shivers up my spine.
Suddenly, both hands grasped the bottom of my t-shirt. "Camicia," he growled.
"Shirt," I gasped. Before I could register anything, my shirt was a clump on my floor. I pressed myself closer to him, chest to chest, fire to ice. My skin burned, radiating heat. His kisses intensified, and my mouth stumbled to keep up.
What was the word for bra again? I wondered silently, desperate to remove the small lace fabric that separated our torsos. I could feel my nipples tighten as his cold chest touched them, and I knew he could feel it as well.
"Reggiseno," he murmured as his thumbs lightly grazed over the thin black lace. I let out a soft moan and arched into his hand, the cold causing them to swell even more.
"Edward," I gasped, my eyes falling shut. What was I supposed to do again? "Bra," I answered, sighing with relief as I felt his hands unclasp the back. He almost ripped it in half as he yanked it down my arms and onto the floor.
His mouth was on my right breast in a half a second, his hand stroking the other. He sucked the small pink skin softly, alternating between licking and nibbling. His thumb grazed my other nipple, lightly twisting it. "God Edward," I cried. "That feels so good."
My fingers combed through his hair, twisting the bronze tendrils around my fingers. He brought his face back to mine and kissed me gently, his hand cupping my cheek. "Bella," he murmured, yet the accent to my name was strange.
"Pantaloni," he said as he worked the button on my jeans. I shimmied out of them as quickly as possible – which was really pretty slow – and unhooked his belt buckle. He held my hands before I could undo his zipper, his one eyebrow raised as he waited for my answer.
I rolled my eyes and groaned in frustration. "Pants!" I snapped. He let go of my hands, chuckling, and I quickly pulled his own pantaloni down until they pooled at his feet. I kissed him hungrily, happy that his self-imposed limits were long behind us.
There were some things in life I was really grateful for. One, Edward. Two, Charlie deciding to take a weekend-long fishing trip. Three, a new, much larger, bed after my old one broke. Finally, the fact the only underwear that was clean this morning was a ridiculous pair of lace undergarments. I had felt silly wearing them, expecting a day of studying. What a surprise.
The aforementioned lace boy shorts were still on my body, much to my dismay. I had no idea what the word for underwear was. It wasn't something Houton-Mifflin usually included in textbooks.
Edward's finger rubbed lightly through the fabric. I whimpered. He kissed my collarbone, licking and sucking the taut skin there. "Oh il mio angelo, quanto bello siete," he murmured, the Italian words dripping out of his mouth. He had never spoken in any other language before. I had no idea what he had said, but it hardly mattered.
He hooked a thumb around the lace fabric at my hip, pulling my underwear down to my knees. "Il mio amore, lo ha lasciato toccarlo," he purred into my chest. His fingers slid down my abdomen, stopping where my thighs met. He slid one finger inside of me, and I let out a quiet moan. He began to thrust his finger inside of me, adding another. I arched into him, my whimpering cries escalating to moans.
"Siete così bagnato, il mio amore. Così molto bagnato," he moaned, thrusting his fingers faster. I began to shake, fighting to stay on the edge. "Lo amate quando lo tocco?" he purred, sucking my neck. "Dicami, splendido."
My mind swirled, trying to grasp the meaning of the lovely words as pleasure ripped through me. His thumb rubbed my clit, sabotaging any plans I had to keep myself from falling over the edge. My orgasm was strong, but not the strongest I've had. I didn't want to waste all of my energy now, when we had barely begun.
"Fa voi gradice che il mio angelo?" he whispered in my ear as my body quivered. I panted, kissing him again. He laughed softly into my ear, stroking his hands through my hair. "Ti amo, la mia bellezza."
I placed my hand on his cheek, tracing his cheekbone with my thumb. "Let me," I whispered. My English sounded awkward after his gorgeous Italian, but I didn't think clock and sweater would really get my point across.
He rolled us over so I was straddling him, my hair creating a curtain of chestnut around us. He tucked a piece behind my ear and kissed my forehead. He moved down to kiss my lips, but I stopped him. Slowly, I slid back until I straddled his thighs. I took the waistband of his underwear – tented high – and slid it down until he was completely exposed. "Tocchilo, il mio amore," he muttered.
I grabbed his dick at the base, slowly moving over his length."Gesù Cristo," he groaned, his head lulling back into the bed. I stroked him faster, rubbing my thumb over his tip. Slowly, I lowered my head, taking his tip in my mouth. I sucked lightly, then licked from the base to the top again. I took him fully in my mouth until my lips met my hands at the base. Slowly, I began to move up and down, the rhythm increasing with his moans.
"Le cose che fate con la vostra bocca lo sbalordiscono," I heard him say as I felt his cool fingers lace through my hair. I licked his length again slowly, lifting my eyes to his in what I hoped was a smoldering gaze. "Bella," he murmured before throwing his head back and thrusting into my mouth.
Before I could return my attention to him, he took me by my waist and lifted me to straddle him with no effort. He began to kiss my neck again, his fingers lightly tracing my ribs. "Il mio amore," he whispered. "Il mio tesoro." I shivered against him and let my head fall back to allow him more area to suck and kiss.
"Può la I, bella? Posso essere all'interno di voi?" he breathed against my neck, sending shivers down my spine. I managed a whimper, agreeing to whatever it was he asked of me.
He wrapped his fingers around my hipbone, careful not to apply too much pressure. He placed me over his throbbing cock, my dripping core only centimeters away. "Edward," I cried, "Please."
And he entered me in one thrust. A small sigh escaped my mouth, one of pleasure and contentment. Being this close to him pleased me beyond comprehension.
I began to thrust my hips, rolling them as I felt him move inside of me. My long, dark hair fell over my shoulders, giving him a partially obstructed view of my breast. He began to thrust faster, and I matched his pace as best I could.
"Fuck, Edward," I whimpered, throwing my head back as an animalistic moan escaped my lips.
"Dica il mio nome, Bella," he growled, thrusting harder. "Gridilo."
My mind swirled, and I was unable to begin to comprehend what he said. Instead, another moan escaped from my mouth, followed by another, and another, all increasing in volume as my own ecstacy increased.
"Edward," I moaned. I repeated his name again and again, each time getting louder and louder. I dug my fingers into his chest as hard as I could, although he never noticed.
"Il mio Bella, il mio bello amore," he moaned, thrusting faster. I began to feel myself tighten around him, my orgasm only movements away. "Caro dio, Bella. Il mio Bella splendido e perfetto."
My climax shook me, my screams leaving my room through the window and vanishing into the nearby forest. "Edward," I whimpered. His own release followed momentarily, his groans mixing with my own whimpers.
I curled up next to him, my warm, naked body pressed against his own cool perfection. He kissed my forehead softly, wrapping his cool marble arms around me.
"Il mio Bella," he whispered, stroking my hair. He kissed me softly, his cool lips tender against my own.
"I love you," I murmured, resting my head on his chest.
"Ti amo," he said.