"Twisted Twilight Tales" O/S Contest
Fairy Tale Chosen: The Princess and the Pea.
Title: It's Complicated
Word Count: 7057
Rating: M /18
Pairing: Bella and Edward
Summary: Bella lives a colourless dutiful existence. Can finding the perfect husband change that?
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.
It's Complicated
I am twenty seven years old and my mother wants grandchildren.
Nothing wrong with that. Perfectly normal.
It's the only perfectly normal thing about my mother. Frankly she's Nuts. No really, she is. She has Neurological Utopanal Transitional Syndrome. N U T S. She's on meds, its okay and most importantly, she's happy.
I'm her daughter Bella, I help to look after her, keep her life ordered, run the business, study part time and fend off numerous men who find themselves in my bed.
It's complicated.
Take this morning for instance. The sky was clear and sunny finally after the heavy rain that we had last night. Sitting at the breakfast table in the stark white kitchen my mother scowled up at the sky through the window as she sipped gentility at her cup of tea.
"Did you sleep well dear?" she asks me setting her cup down. I answered this in the way best proven to end this particular conversation as soon as possible.
"Very well thank you, I had a lovely nights' sleep."
My mother looked pityingly at me and replied, "never mind dear." And I picked up the phone to make the usual calls to her Doctor to request a slight change in meds and the local police Chief to give him heads up of the possibility of trouble. He duly noted this. He's used to it.
"It seems I was off with my calculations again dear. I'm going to go and work on that for a while." Her sensible heels echo on the tiled floor as she makes her way serenly to the lounge.
"You do that mother; I'll see you at lunch." I watched through the unadorned window as the dishevelled guest from room D runs down the stone path, turns right towards the station, and keeps on going; his unzipped suitcase spilling out some socks as he went. He didn't stop to pick them up.
Yeah. Complicated.
I run my mothers' Bed and Breakfast. We are never full and always busy. It wasn't what I started out to do, but my mother became ill and so I came home. That's life.
When the weather is bad and my mother has a new set of calculations she is in seventh heaven.
So today, the same as every other, I clean and I cook. I tidy and I sort, keeping everything orderly. Lunch time comes and I sit and eat with my mother in the severe emptiness of the dining room while today she discusses the vital importance of goose down. I agree wholeheartedly with her and spend a pleasant half hour with her assessing the goose down sample that has arrived in the post this morning.
"Try before you buy, Bella." It's her most important edict.
Life goes on as normal.
A week later the weather forecast was again for storms with heavy rain and strong winds. North westerlies. Mother glided through the quiet house in regal anticipation. The weather co-incided with a suitable candidate staying in room B and a new set of calculations. I prepared my wardrobe.
"I've devised a new combination Bella, together with the other calculations I'm sure it will work." She was so happy in her certainty. I nodded and smiled and enjoyed her happiness.
I followed mother's menu for the evening meal; it was part of the calculations, and began preparing the food as the afternoon drew to a close.
When it came, it was a terrible storm; it thundered and lightninged and the rain poured down in torrents and was whipped against the side of the house by the winds.
Mr Anderson in room B was distressed to find when he returned to his room after his day of insurance sales seminars, that the roof had somehow leaked and his bed was ruined. This was a little strange since his room was on the ground floor. In the hallway I could hear mother explaining calmly that ALL the rooms had been similarly affected, but that he wasn't to worry, he would still have a bed for the night.
She invited him to join us for dinner and he agreed, surprised, pushing his wire framed glasses further up his narrow nose nervously as he entered the kitchen.
Tonight's menu consisted of beef stew and apple cobbler. A little soporific I would have thought, but they were my mother's calculations. I smiled nicely at Mr Anderson as he ate and told us in detail about the work he did calculating peoples insurance premiums.
He and mother talked at great length. She seemed very satisfied.
Once we were finished eating mother said, "why Mr Anderson that sounds very interesting. You obviously have an excellent job, earn a good wage and are well placed in life." Mr Anderson nodded agreeably. "But one thing is missing. Do you think you could you be a good husband?"
A look of confusion crossed his pinched face as he looked at my mother. The unmistakeable hint of panic receded slightly as my Mother nodded composedly to indicate me.
"Oh, well, I hadn't thought... that is, I'm not really ready ... I mean..."
But mother interrupted his flummoxed reply, "bed time now my dears. Everything is ready. Let me show you where you will be staying tonight Mr Anderson." And he took the opportunity to abandon that conversation, standing up with alacricity and stating that bed was just what he needed. My mother smiled approvingly at him.
I left the kitchen ahead of them, entering my room and standing by the window waiting.
Mother showed Mr. Anderson into my room and explained to him that he would be sharing my bed tonight. His eyes lit up fractionally. Hum, he had a little more fire than I gave him credit for.
"Now you show my daughter what a good husband you can be," mother said as she closed the door. "Goodnight." His eyes had gone a little wider at the word husband, shock apparent on his face, even a few beads of sweat appearing on his forehead.
Mother was now out of earshot however and still happily in her ordered world. Mr Anderson and I were facing our realities.
"Don't panic Mr Anderson, my mother's Nuts." He nodded, agreeing enthusiastically though I'm not sure if he was responding to the medical term or the generic one.
Whichever.
"She wants you and I to have sex tonight to get me pregnant, so that I can judge whether you would be a good husband or not." His eyes lit up a tiny bit again. The mention of himself and sex in the same sentence was enough. Typical man. "She has already grilled you on your finances and your work expectations. She wants you to be able to keep both me and her in comfort for the rest of our lives. She has the local vicar on retainer and expects lots of Grandchildren." Panic was back again. His eyes darted to the window where the storm was lashing the rain against the glass, around the room to the wardrobe which was partly open showing a long white frothy dress within.
"And, oh yeah, I have my dress all picked out." His eyes darted back to the window again. He licked his lips nervously. "Well... I ... er..."
"Don't worry Mr Anderson. If you're not up for the job, we can just go to sleep instead." He looked so relieved, I felt sorry for him. "Which side of the bed would you like?" With a last resigned look at the storm raging outside he gestured weakly to the side he was standing nearest.
The weather conditions were an important part of my mother's calculations. Nobody wanted to go outside in a storm, to trudge around the town trying to find somewhere else to stay, even when faced with my mother blatantly measuring them up as potential sons in law.
I got into bed fully dressed which he did too, lying on his back as close as possible to the edge clutching the duvet to his chest as if it was a life jacket out on the open seas.
"It's very comfortable," he muttered as he resolutely squeezed his eyes shut and pretended to sleep. It was comfortable too. I'm pretty sure it was a double pocket sprung mattress plus memory foam mattress and goose down topper combination tonight.
But I could be wrong. They were my mother's calculations after all.
Mr Anderson didn't sleep a wink all night. I'm sure his knuckles were white as he clutched the five hundred count baffle construction, synthetic down, thirteen point five tog duvet to his chin. It could have just been the lightning though.
As dawn finally approached, the storm eased up and soon the skies were clearing. I yawned and stretched as I got out of the high bed and made a show out of entering the bathroom, turning the shower on and locking the door behind me. Forty seven seconds later he was out of my room and rushing through the house grabbing his suitcase and his shoes as he went. He didn't even stop to put them on.
Good buy Mr Anderson.
I told you it was complicated.
A short while later mother and I were sitting in the kitchen having breakfast. Mother was once again eyeing the cloud free skies critically. I think she reasoned that offering breakfast to her potential son in law would clinch the deal. The sun was a traitor for not cooperating.
"Did you sleep well dear?" she asked me her eyes expectant. I answered this in the time honoured way,
"Very well thank you, I had a lovely nights' sleep."
Mother sounded particularly disappointed as she replied, seems she had really liked Mr Anderson, "Really dear? Obviously not a Real Husband then," she sighed deeply. "Never mind dear." And I picked up the phone to once again call the police Chief to hopefully ward off any law suits that might come our way. He duly noted this. He was used to it.
After mother left to work on her calculations murmuring about including posturepedic mattresses into the combination, I cleaned Mr Andersons' room as well as the other 'storm damaged' rooms and then sat down to study for a while.
Then the Doctor arrives.
For over a year he has been mothers Doctor. He comes to the house to visit her. He's very busy. He doesn't make house calls for anyone else. Only us.
I know his footsteps, I know his voice. I know he likes an uncomplicated life. My life is not without complications.
"Hello, Bella." His voice is like melted chocolate over velvet. "Did you have another one last night?"
"Hello Doctor Cullen. Yes, the weather was perfect apparently. Shall I take you to mother? I think she's in the lounge." I never like to stay too close to him. His presence sent too many ripples through my world. And therefore through my mothers.
"I worry about you Bella, one day it might not go so well." His soft voice was full of concern and his hand was warm on my arm.
"It's all right; I can take care of myself." My voice was a little breathy. It always was around him. "Besides, mothers idea of what makes the perfect candidates are usually easy to handle." Mother favoured short, skinny men. I preferred tall, broad shouldered, lithe men with long legs and firm backsides.
The tall, broad shouldered, lithe doctor with long legs and a firm backside shifted his feet for a moment then took a deep breath and spoke. "What is your idea of a perfect candidate Bella?"
This is why I tried to keep away from him. My mother needed an ordered life of her making. I was flushed and uncertain and yearning and it was not part of the order. "I've never really thought about it," I lied.
"Oh." Disappointment fell from the single word. It was my undoing.
Spinning round to him, I grasped his strong forearms through his soft, blue wool jacket and pleaded into his saddened eyes. "Edward it would never work. She'd never accept you, you know that. She needs to live in a calm, ordered world. And I can't leave her, Edward, she's my mother." His beautiful green eyes held mine. Steady. Resolute.
"If I found a way?"
"If you found a way, I'd have you in a heartbeat, but I don't know how it could work." My wants and needs had been placed firmly on the shelf when I had given up my job and my life it seemed to come home to care for her. Colour, excitement, joy, music, love, all were precious treasures to me now.
But I loved my mother.
"I'll talk to her."
So I slipped back into my mother's calm life and entering the lounge I said, "mother, Doctor Cullen has called to see you. Shall I bring tea?"
"That would be nice dear."
"Renée, nice to see you again."
It was three weeks before the next storm.
The rain poured down in sheets and lashed against the side of the house driven by the strong winds. It seemed to do that a lot.
The dark and stormy night was frightening and oppressive. Mother was bitterly disappointed that we had no suitable guests.
In the middle of the storm, late at night, there was a loud knock at our door, and my mother herself went to open it.
Standing on our porch was a tall man; he was in a terrible state from the rain and the wind. He was drenched. Soaked through. The water streamed out of his hair and down his beautiful face. It ran through his clothes and dripped from his long slender fingers; it ran in to the top of his Nikes and squelched around his toes; the leather was ruined.
"Mrs Swan," he stuttered through his chattering teeth. "I am a Real Husband for your daughter."
Now, mother may be Nuts but she's not stupid.
"I'm not prepared for you; you'll have to go away."
I take that back.
"Mother!" I rushed into the hall to quickly stop her from shutting the door again. "It wouldn't take long to prepare, we shouldn't turn away a potential husband that fate has sent us." I quickly urged. She contemplated the raging storm for a few moments.
"Very well, you may come in. But my calculations are out of date," she admonished me. "They may not be sufficient."
"It's all right mother, I have a good feeling about your calculations tonight." I took the drenched man by the hand and pulled him into the shelter of the house. He squelched behind me and stood on the tile in the grey painted hallway pooling and shivering.
"A Real Husband?" my mother muttered derisively as she looked up and down his too tall, too well built, too strong frame. "Well, we shall see about that." And she bustled away to make her preparations.
As soon as she was out of earshot I dragged the shivering man behind me and pulled him into one of the guest bathrooms, "Edward! What on earth are you doing?"
"I'm proving to your mother that I'm a Real Husband. It'll work Bella; we just need to fulfil her expectations. I just need to pass her tests." His cold wet hand stroked tenderly down my flushed cheek. "Is that okay? Do you want me?" His anxious eyes were so beautiful; green and long lashed and the only eyes in the world that I wanted to wake up to every morning for the rest of my life.
"Yes Edward, yes I want you." He leaned down, I leaned up; our faces a mere inch apart, breaths intermingling, scents entwining, lips yearning...
Crash.
We leapt apart. The sound from the hallway breaking the charged moment.
"I'd better go and help mother move mattresses."
"I'd better shower and get warmed up."
"I'll get you some dry clothes."
"Where are you going to get men's clothes from?"
"Oh, there's usually things left behind all the time."
"Oh." And he laughed. I watched the creases and crinkles dance around his eyes and listened to the music of his laugh and knew that if this didn't work, my heart would never recover. I'd be living in a grey two dimensional world forever.
"Well, Dr Cullen, this is very unusual. You say that your own house has been damaged by the storm?" Mother's voice echoed somewhat around the cool white kitchen as we sat at the square table.
"That's right, and I was sure I could find a bed for the night here."
"The storm has damaged this house too I'm afraid. The guest beds are completely ruined." I held my breath. Edward held his breath. My mother held her breath as she debated whether this unusual set of circumstances fit in with her plan. "But I'm sure we can find somewhere for you to spend the night."
I let out my breath, careful not to alert mother to my relief at her reply. I was usually a lot more disinterested in her plans.
Edward let out his breath too and surreptitiously put his warm long fingered hand on my knee under the table squeezing gently. Looking down I couldn't help but think that his hand looked really good on my knee. Felt really good too. The cold room around us brightened somewhat. I stopped breathing again. Glancing up at my mother to make sure she was fully occupied with her questioning of Edward about his future prospects, I put my hand on his thigh. It was a really nice firm thigh. I squeezed it gently in return. I couldn't help thinking that mother really should have included firm thighs in her calculations.
I licked my lips.
Thoughts of that nature had been frozen for quite a long time.
I was starting to thaw out nicely however.
Edward moved his warm capable hand up to my thigh too.
And squeezed.
Oh Lord.
I reciprocated tit for tat and all that and moved my hand further up his thigh.
And stretched out a pinkie finger just a little bit...
Edward jumped in his seat. Humm, he dressed to the right then.
Mother glared at him. She had been in mid speech about the importance of life insurance policies.
Giving me a reproving look, Edward removed his hand from my thigh and concentrated on what mother was saying.
It's not my fault. He started it.
My gorgeous mischief maker in my calm and ordered world.
The meal seemed to have gone well. Mother was satisfied with Edwards's replies to her not at all subtle probing and for the first time ever I was looking forward to the next stage of the plan. I cleared the empty plates from our fruit salad desert, nothing soporific tonight, no matter what mother had wanted and glanced over my shoulder at Edward. He caught my eye and shifted his tall frame in his seat slightly.
We were going to have sex soon.
He knew it.
I knew it.
We should have been slightly disconcerted by the fact that my mother knew it too.
But we weren't.
"Bed time now my dears. Everything is ready. Let me show you where you will be staying tonight Dr Cullen." And he took the opportunity to stand up quickly stating that bed was just what he needed. Mother and I smiled approvingly at him.
I left the kitchen ahead of them, entering my room and standing by the window waiting.
Mother appeared in the doorway with Edward right behind her.
"We don't have any guest rooms available, but you can share Bella's bed for the night Dr Cullen. Will that be suitable?"Edward nodded in a thoughtful and respectable fashion, only I could see the gleam in his eye. "Good. Now you show my daughter what a good husband you can be," mother said as she closed the door on the two of us. "Goodnight." I love the fact that my mother is Nuts.
We stood there in the comfortable warm cocoon of my bedroom, facing each other. I watched him and he watched me.
I watched as his eye lids lowered and his pink tongue peeked through his soft full lips and licked them slowly, left to right. Bottom then top.
I watched as his long slender fingers flexed towards his palms, his arms tense beside his body.
I watched as his breathing deepened, his chest straining against his clothing as it sucked in air.
I watched as he walked towards me, his steps sure and steady, the thick pile carpet absorbing the sounds of his approach.
I watched and met him half way.
He was everything that my world was not.
He was warmth.
He was colour.
He was laughter.
He was love.
He was mine.
We kissed.
We kissed as the lightning flashed outside, as the rain lashed against the windows sealing us in our prison.
We, who had no intention of going anywhere. We kissed.
We were not gentle; our lips found each other fiercely, each moulding to the other, soft and strong, teasing and promising. My hands gripped his hair; his hands clasped my body to his. His moans mixed with mine as we kissed and touched and held and grasped. Our tongues met, first twisting together in a languid dance before exploring independently and then coming back to find each other again; sliding together, nipped between teeth, tangling in harmony.
He tasted of life and laughter and Edward and my tongue revelled in its discoveries.
Air. Human beings needed air. It was only this fact that made us pause, pulling away from the heaven of the others mouths, panting in that damned air, holding each others smouldering gazes. We didn't pause for long.
He moved his divine lips to my jaw and his hot ragged breaths brought shivers to my body. He kissed, nipped and sucked his way up towards my ear, finally sucking the lobe into the hot cavern of his mouth, holding it with his teeth and flicking it with his tongue. My knees weakened and he gripped me to his body more firmly still.
My head being otherwise occupied I awoke my hands from the death grip they had on his shirt, opening out my fists to slide the whole of my hands up his muscular back towards his broad shoulders, alternating pressing firmly with my fingertips and soothingly with my palms. His muscles bunched and flexed beneath my explorations and impossibly he shifted our bodies even closer still. I slid my hands down his back following the path of his spine, showing me the way to his waist, and lower still towards his delectable firm rear.
His moan into my neck as he kissed and sucked on the sensitive skin there spurred me on.
As if I needed it.
Light as a feather I ghosted my palms over the firm rounded muscles beneath the smooth wool of his trousers. Round and round, following the muscle culture, the hollows at the sides, the sharp cut of the top of his thighs. I left no part untouched. Then I gripped with both hands and pulled him into me. Hard.
Why yes he was.
We both moaned at the feel of him against me and I wished it were possible to be closer but our bodies were as close as two people can get with their clothes on.
Clothes, that was it.
Reluctaly moving my hands back up from his gorgeous gluteus, I travelled until I found the soft cotton of his shirt and gripped it between my fingers, pulling it up inch by inch. Finally I found a piece of hem and dived my hand underneath. Skin! Oh good God; hot, satiny, damp with exertion, and so soft and smooth yet firm and supple. I wanted to see it, taste it, lick it, bite it. I growled in frustration and wriggled my hips into his, straining for more.
More. I would always want more of him.
His hands were firmly on my body, pulling me to him, one on the small of my back pressing tightly, the other on my hip holding determinedly. I think he didn't want me to go anywhere.
But his hands were still. Is it true that men can't multitask? I needed... more. My hand that wasn't touching his skin, because that baby wasn't going anywhere, moved to his arm and pushed insistently. Down, further, firmer, harder.
He got the message.
He moved his hands to my rear, teasing me with light touches as I had him. His mouth was now on my throat, licking, teasing, giving tiny fleeting kisses. He was teasing me, taunting me. I growled, moving my head to break his hold and to press my lips against the angle of his jaw. I fastened my lips and sucked the prickly, musky skin, running my tongue over the soft pliant material, rasping over the whiskery delights.
He groaned in return at my assertiveness and grasped my rear in both his hands, squeezing rhythmically, lifting, running his thumbs along the outsides, pressing deeply into the edges of the muscle.
The world stopped turning. A new erogenous zone. Who knew?
He continued tormenting me with his masterful hands now pulling me closer, rolling our hips together, bending his knees a little to bring his tall frame down, pushing his legs between mine widening my stance. His erection was hard and insistent at the juncture of my legs, right there. Right THERE.
How does he do that?
Still stroking me firmly, he rolled and pressed and withdrew his hips until I couldn't think, couldn't breathe. Releasing his amazing jaw line from my mouth my head fell back, panting in air in absolute delight. My body falling away from his, my hands pressed hard into his lower back holding our hips together.
Meeting his gaze I saw heaven and hell in his eyes. Love and lust, completion and hunger. His dark eyes burned into me fiercely and my body throbbed and clenched in response.
Enough of this teasing.
He obviously felt so too. Releasing his hold on me he dragged his hands roughly up the curves of my back and around to my hips. He found the hem of my cashmere jumper and slid under, firmly brushing the skin over my ribs, onwards and upwards until they reached the lacy swell of my breasts.
Oh thank God. I gasped and he looked back up at my eyes and quirked an eyebrow at me. Was he asking? Seriously? In response I dove both my hands under his shirt and up the sumptuous skin of his back and shoulders, rubbing, soothing, clawing, begging with my touch.
He grinned at my encouragement and swept the thumbs of his restless hands up over the hardened peeks beneath the lace before sweeping his hands down and out of my jumper.
What?
But all was revealed, when he took hold of the hem and pulled it up. I slipped my hands out from under his shirt. This was the only circumstance that could have persuaded me do do so. Raising my arms in the air, I locked gazes with him as he pulled and the jumper slid, slowly, sensuously across my skin, the cool air shocking and arousing at the same time.
Wow. That was wonderful.
He definitely needed to be without his shirt. I reached up to the first button, my eyes never leaving his as his hands made languorous sweeping movements, against the skin of my sides. I was pressing closer and closer to him, unable to resist the lure of contact. Not good for undoing buttons but damn good for everything else. I reached the waist of his trousers and tugged the shirt loose, undoing the last buttons clumsily, hastily. I needed to feel his skin on mine.
At last, at last, the final button was removed from its trap and I spread the sides of his shirt apart with all the reverence that he and his heavenly body deserved.
I dare say I licked my lips at the sight before me. He was beautiful.
But I didn't take long to admire, I wanted to touch, to taste and the feeling was mutual. Grasping my waist he pulled me hard against him.
Hot skin to hot skin. The scratch of his soft hair, the rub of my contoured lace. My hands ran over his back again as his hands ran over mine, exploring, testing, discovering. Clutching, gripping, clawing.
More, I needed more. I would always need more of him.
Pulling my neck away from his mouths ministrations, I ran my lips along the collar bones in front of me. Warm velvety skin encasing hard bone. At the juncture of his throat I headed south, tasting, kissing, breathing him in. His firmly sculptured chest was a delightful playground and I enjoyed every second of it.
"My turn." His roughened voice penetrated my chest playground haze as he brought his lips back to my neck and started to kiss lower. He found my clavicles and nuzzled along each before moving lower with his lips. His hands were sweeping and caressing my back, coming up now to tease the elastic of the white bra straps. Slipping a finger under each he slowly, teasingly shifted each strap until they both fell from the end of my shoulders, to fall uselessly down around my upper arms.
"Huummm..." he hummed appreciatively as his mouth nuzzled ever lower, placing gentle kisses and nips across the swell of my breasts. The loosening cups were no match for his persistent lips or his tongue which swept explorativly beneath as far as he could reach.
My hands were clawing at his back by this point; I wanted to be even closer. I was becoming desperate to feel more of him. My hands found the waist of his trousers and my fingers slid beneath, exploring as far as they could reach too.
"This has to go," he panted into the lace of my bra. "Now." I wasn't going to argue. With one hand and a deft movement he unhooked the closure and the garment, such as it was, fell free, down my arms.
"Oh God," he moaned into my chest, nuzzling closer still, his lips closing over a hardened peak, sucking rhythmically.
"Oh God!" I cried as pleasure burst through me.
"More, " he rasped. "Need more." That makes two of us. He lifted his head and pulled me to him, wrapping his arms right around me and hugging me tightly to his chest. The feel of his hot skin against mine was mind blowing. He was panting, struggling to regain some control. I was just struggling. Struggling to get his damn trousers off him.
He groaned and pulled away from me. "Let's try out that bed shall we?" he asked, a wicked grin lighting up his face. I didn't need asking twice. Grasping me around the hips, he half carried me to the big velvet covered bed where he had to lift me before he could toss me into the centre of it. Red, green and gold velvet cushions bounced and tumbled around me as he fell amongst them on top of me. I had a brief moment of nerves when I thought of how my boobs must also be jiggling and jostling but he didn't seem to care as he plunged right in and homed in on a sensitive nipple again.
"Off, "I panted. He broke contact with his mouth and looked quizzically at me half puzzled, half hurt. "Your trousers," I explained. "They need to come off. Now."
He gave me another of those wicked grins that I was beginning to learn meant he was thinking of doing unspeakable things to me. "You first Miss Swan." And with barely a pause he slid my stretchy trousers down my hips and away down my legs, coming back up to wiggle his eyebrows comically at me.
I laughed; he was so going to get it. Almost as quickly as he had moved, I reached up to unfasten the button on his trousers, then the hook, then the zip. Jeeze, could they put any more fastenings on these things?
Pushing against his chest I pushed him off me to lie on his back, where I promptly settled myself over his thighs. Giving him my own version of a wicked grin I gripped the waist of his trousers and pulled them down. They came off smoothly in one sweep. Well, he wasn't exactly going to make it difficult for me was he?
Rolling me over again he brushed his hand reverently over my skin, his eyes worshipful as they followed in its wake.
"Edward...need you so much." His touch made it difficult to think.
His eyes darkened instantly, oh, this was going to be so good.
My lace knickers were a mere memory in seconds as he swept them from me, his hand moving back to cup me gently where I was desperate to feel him.
"Here baby?" he whispered. "Is this where you need me?" I could do no more than nod as he pressed one finger between the heat and found the silky moist that called to him. He danced his finger lightly, waltzing over my most sensitive flesh before dipping lower and slipping inside. Then he did it again. And again.
"Nuuaahhh..."Coherency was a thing of the past.
Another finger joined in the dance, twirling and dipping. How was it possible for this to feel so good? The whole time his fingers were dancing, his eyes were accompananying them, roving across my body, seeing all of me. Worshiping me with his gaze. My whole world had been condensed down to this bed, this man, these fingers. I needed more. I stretched a leg out and wrapped it around his waist pulling him closer to me. The angle of his finger dance changed and picked up tempo. I could feel his erection pressing and rubbing urgently into the side of my leg, keeping pace and time with the dance although still covered with its fabric prison. I moaned. More.
I reached up and captured his head between my hands, pulling his lips to mine in a frenzy of need. I was trembling with it, burning with it. Our mouths were hungry for each other, tongues twining in their own dance. But still I needed more.
I wrenched my mouth from his and raced my hands down his body, pulling him to lie over me, rushing to his waist to push the offending garment away from what was mine. He pulled his fingers from my warmth and took his weight on his arms as I pushed the fabric down as far as I could. He kicked them away. Wrapping my legs impatiently around him I pulled him to me, hard length firmly pressed to the cradle of my hips.
"Aahh, Bella, so good." It was a whisper, a plea.
I pulled him closer, lifting my hips to bring him closer to where I needed him most.
We locked gazes, each of us asking, affirming.
"Please," I whispered. "Please Edward." His lips met mine, my fingers tangled in his hair and danced with the silky strands as his tongue twirled with mine. Slowly, exquisitely slowly, he pressed himself into me, seaking and finding the warmth which was his.
Oh, he felt so right.
We held each other close for a moment, lips, tongues and bodies momentarily still as we each accustomed ourselves to finding our heaven and then he began to move in me. Flexing his hips shallowly, gently pulling free then pushing home again. It was without a doubt heaven on earth.
A whimper escaped me.
A moan escaped him.
"Perfect, so perfect," he whispered tightly against the skin of my neck, his hot moist breath caressing my tender skin. "More, Bella, need more."
I knew there was a reason why I loved him.
Wrapping my legs tighter round him, I pressed my heels into his taut backside, urging him deeper, faster. He didn't need urging twice.
"Yes," he groaned, lifting his head and throwing it back. This wasn't a time for slow and gentle; this was a time of need. His dark lust filled eyes were mirrors of my own as he picked up the pace of his thrusts, building the need, the hunger to ever greater heights. He pushed harder, deeper and I pulled with my legs, gripped with my hands meeting him thrust for thrust. He was giving us more, so much more.
Our completion would be quick. There was no holding it back. With every taut muscle, every straining sinew, Edward was driving himself closer to the edge. My own precipice was perilously close; I began to pant heavily feeling the start of the end.
"Edward, don't stop... please... nearly..."
He grunted, a mix of pleasure and pain as he strained to hold on to himself. To give to me. His pace was broken now as he neared his own finish, his face a grimace, his breath a torture of pants.
"Please love... want to... need...can't..." His barely audible voice pushed me over the edge and I tumbled, calling and shouting into a canyon of bliss, pulled down faster and more inexorably that the pull of gravity. I saw stars, I heard angels my body gripping and throbbing as I'd never know it before.
With a triumphant cry, he joined me, his body giving one last thrust before pulsing into me hotly, riding the fall with me until we both lay trembling and panting at the bottom together, wrapped in each other.
The storm continued to rage outside as ours wound down inside. We snuggled together amongst the pillows and quilts as if we had been doing it for years. I knew I would never get enough of his warm lithe body so strong and powerful, gentle and arousing.
I was pleased that mother had gone for a firm sprung double quilted mattress with a one inch goose down topper. Nice and warm and comfortable without being so soft that it prevented energetic rolling around. Perhaps my mother had got her calculations right on this one. Or perhaps I was Nuts too.
Whichever.
From now on, no messing with my bed. This was the perfect combination.
The lightning lit up the room in dazzling flashes, illuminating the thick fluffy carpet and the deep jewel purple of the squashy sofa and matching chair at my dressing table. The curtains at the windows moved slightly when there was a particularly strong gust of wind and the pictures on the wall glowed; every velvety petal on each flower brightly displayed. I felt comforted. My room was my sanctuary. And now I was sharing it with Edward.
Could it really last. Could we make this work?
"Edward?" I whispered.
"Yes, love?" He was still recovering his strength and barely moved as he replied.
"How can we do this? How can you put up with the way my mother lives?"
He raised himself up on one elbow, completely alert now. "We'll make it work, Bella. We'll hire someone to help you take care of your mother, someone who understands how important it is for her world to be calm and ordered. That will give us more time to spend together. And I love your sanctuary; it's so colourful and relaxing. Are those your painting on the wall?"
"How did you know I painted?"
"Ah Miss Swan, I've known you for over a year, watched, waited, hoped. I know you study art and that you love it. I hope you'll be able to paint more now."
"I don't see how."
"But Bella, I'll be able to help you. Your mother's world is on the other side of that door. This is our sanctuary, our place to be together and to do the things we love to do. We'll make it work I promise. As long as I have this to come home to I'll be happy." And I believed him absolutely. Believed in the fairy tale ending. In the happy ever after. Why not.
We snuggled together some more.
Before we became hungry again.
With a wicked glint in his eye, Edward trailed his fingers across my skin and whispered in my ear, "how do you want me now, Bella?"
"Every way."
11.23pm. "Edward...yes...oh...yes...YES!"
"Bella... ungh... God... love you..."
12. 47 Am. "You put one foot here and the other there and then you..."
"OH GOD!"
2 Am. "Let me hold your head, baby... is this okay?"
"Mmmmnnn..."
2.37Am. "Oh God, Bella, I think I've just bruised your hips with my fingers."
"Then kiss them better Dr Cullen."
3.10 am. "I'm so glad this shower has so much hot water. I've never done that before!"
"I aim to please Miss Swan."
4. 57 Am. "Are you awake?"
"For you always. Roll over."
6. 14 Am. "Uumm... morning sex my favourite."
"Mine too."
The next morning, mother and I were sitting in the kitchen having breakfast. Edward had left before mother awoke, needing to get to his practice for early appointments. I had dark circles under my eyes, and tiny blue and purple bruises on my hips. My lips were swollen and my neck reddened by contact with a certain someone's stubbly jaw.
I was happier than I had ever been in my life.
Mother was once again eyeing the cloud free skies critically, while sighing deeply over the empty chair next to me.
"Did you sleep well dear?" she asked me.
"Oh no, mother I didn't."
Her eyes brightened expectantly.
"It was awful. There was something hard in my bed all night and I tossed and I turned, I bet I'm black and blue all over. I didn't sleep a wink all night long."
Mother's eyes were shining and her smile could have lit up the whole town. "Oh, my daughter you have found a Real Husband at last."
I couldn't disagree.
The end.
