AN: So . . . this is my first lemon. And actually, it may be the first explicit intercourse scene I've ever written . . . my virgin virgin piece, haha. Anyways, details are unimportant; it is what it is. A bit fluffy maybe? I don't know. Whatever; it's sex; enjoy it. I won't continue this, but if y'all think it's any good, maybe I'll try to write some more random lemons.
Heatwave
A thick grey blanket had stretched itself across the sky, trapping the heat and humidity around us poor individuals who draped ourselves across grassy lawns or under ceiling fans, hoping for just the faintest breeze. The clouds weren't moving, though. The heat should have been old hat for me; this was nothing compared to the 120s of Phoenix. But Arizona was a dry heat, not this sticky, oozing heat that squeezed beads of sweat out on the back of my neck.
"You have such beautiful hair."
"Well I'm sorry, Edward, it's going to have to stay up," I retorted, glaring at the clouds as his fingers twisted through the high bun. I couldn't bear to have it on my neck. I wanted everything off my body, every scrap of clothing, every speck of dirt, every hair, anything that might hold any heat against my skin. It was bad enough having the waxy blades of grass pressed against my arms as we lay in the shade of my backyard. "I'm boiling."
"Is it really that hot? You're from the desert. Shouldn't you be in your element now?"
"I guess I'm getting used to the cold," I shrugged.
My eyes closed as his gaze trailed over my flushed skin for a long moment. He tugged me closer. I was going to argue; I felt disgusting and didn't want anything touching me, much less another warm body—
But then Edward's body wasn't warm. Strange how I could be so used to his lower temperature, so aware of his non-humanness, and yet still I wouldn't think to use him as my own personal cooling unit. He grinned wider as I draped myself across him, spreading my arms and legs out along his to get as many points of contact as possible. He must have realized how hot I was, or he wouldn't have let me lay so fully on top of him. I bit my lip, afraid he would notice my impish grin and shove me off. Seriously, though, I shouldn't be this hot. It was only a hundred; I had spent most of my life in much worse.
Instead of pushing me off, he lifted the neckline of my shirt and blew a steady stream of cool air down the back of my neck. It stole down my spine and spread across the small of my back where sweat was making a small pool. I gasped and shuddered; it didn't matter how hot I was, he was blowing down my shirt, and my body knew exactly what it wanted to follow.
"Too cold?" he asked.
I groaned, "Now you're just making it worse."
"What worse."
"The heat."
"I—oh." He dropped the cloth while I silently begged him to go back to blowing down my shirt. "Perhaps you should get off-"
"Edward . . ." I groaned again. "It's too hot to get off of you." I felt his abdomen constrict as he laughed lightly.
"Well now I'm starting to feel the heat too, so you really had better get off." I didn't see how his argument was supposed to compel me to get off of him, but arguments about sex were an uphill battle, and I didn't have the energy right now. I rolled over and off, onto my back, wincing as my body collided with the hard dirt.
"Why don't people in Forks have pools?" I whined. "Everyone in Phoenix has a pool."
"It's either because it's cold and rainy ninety-eight percent of the year, or because we have a beach. I forget which," he quipped, poking my playfully in the side. I grabbed his hand and slid it under my shirt, holding it against my stomach and growing still before he could argue and pull away. It wasn't enough contact, but at least it was something.
His comment, instead of sparking an eyeroll, fueled another thought, and I gasped, "Edward, let's go to the beach."
"I can't—"
"Not La Push. Somewhere . . . Lake Crescent! It's supposed to be cool year-round, isn't it?"
"I guess . . . I don't have my swimsuit," he started to argue, but I was already sprinting across the lawn and around the house.
"I'm jumping in fully-clothed, I don't care!" I called back, or rather ahead, because by the time I reached the car he had already opened the passenger's door for me. He believed me and laughed at my craziness: proof he couldn't read my mind, because that was certainly not my intention.
I rode with my face shoved in front of the air condition vent, and stayed that way until Edward had parked the Volvo in the shade along the banks of Lake Crescent, as far from any campsites or other cars as possible. It was typically a popular lake, and we passed many other swimmers, but Edward settled on a private nook off the main road, a section of the lake tucked away. There was a small wooden dock, but it looked abandoned, and I wouldn't have trusted it to support my weight. Otherwise, there were no signs of life to be found. It was like he knew I planned to strip everything off and jump in. Maybe he could read my mind after all . . .
I sprung from the car and had my shoes off and my feet buried in the cool water with a speed to rival his own; in fact, he seemed to be taking his time, shutting off the car, checking his phone, then ambling over to watch me wade around.
"Better?" he asked.
I shook my head, "Only for my feet. Aren't you coming in?"
"I think I'll just watch."
"What?!" I frowned, spinning to glare at him. "You have to come in!"
He shook his head, "Swimming in dirty lake water . . . I'm surprised you're willing to do it."
"It's so hot," I shrugged.
"Well, I'm not hot, so I'll just watch from the clean hood of my car," he returned, leaning back against the Volvo and crossing his arms.
I started to argue, then suddenly clamped my jaw shut. He wasn't hot. Well, well. We would just have to see what could be done about that.
It was no secret that I wanted to have sex with Edward. It was so not a secret that I had even ceased to be embarrassed about it. Okay, well, I still blushed and squirmed when Emmett made his innuendos, but I had by now sat through two sex discussions with Alice without having to excuse myself. I was an adult and should be able to articulate myself on such private matters as sex without flushing like a thirteen-year-old.
Along with resigning myself to accept that I was ridiculously lustful for my obstinately abstinent boyfriend, I had also come to terms with the fact that Edward was not going to give in. I had tried everything. I had begged and pleaded and pouted and teased and even tried to awkwardly seduce him. It didn't work. His concern for my preservation somehow outweighed his desire for me, and I had accepted that I was simply not sexy enough to tilt the scales the other way. Depressing but true.
So I was sort of only joking with myself about making him hot enough to come in the water. I wouldn't succeed, and anyways, even if I did get him in the water, there was nothing I could do to get him to do anything. I had tried and failed countless times. Well, if you're trying to push a brick wall over and it just won't budge, who says you can't then use it to play wallball? It's only fair.
I bit my lip, then dove beneath the water, blindly pushing myself out deeper, relishing the way the coolness wrapped around my skin. Instantly I felt better. Edward was a good air conditioner, but this was like taking a seat in a walk-in freezer. I stayed under as long as my lungs would allow, swinging my arms so that small currents trailed across my eyelids and down my neck and across my chest.
When I finally surfaced, I glanced back to Edward. He was still leaning against the car, observing the trees and the sky and the lake, but he grinned at me when I stood, the water stopping just short of my chest. My shirt clung to my body but he didn't seem to even notice.
"Better?" he repeated.
"So much," I assured him, impressed by the casualness of my voice as my stomach suddenly began to twist. Really, was I going to do this? I had never skinny-dipped in my life, or at least not since probably the age of four. And he was going to be furious. But the adrenaline-rush-seeking part of me that had awakened during his absence had not totally left when he returned, and I felt the familiar shakes beginning in my fingers at the thought. Sure, there wasn't much risk. Not like jumping off a cliff or riding a motorcycle. I wouldn't get hurt, but maybe someone would wander by, or go cruising by in a boat and see a bit more of me than I really wanted them to. The thought was mortifying . . . and yet slightly exhilarating. Plus, Edward would be furious.
That's what sealed the deal. I was perhaps thirty feet out: close enough that I could stand and he would be able to see everything, but far enough away that he wouldn't be able to see what I was doing underwater, not until it was too late. Too late for me not to rape his eyeballs with my naked body. I guffawed at the idea; adrenaline was leaving me feeling intoxicated.
"Everything okay?" he called out and I waved his concern away before slipping beneath the water, feeling my heart leap into my throat. Now or never. Oh, he was going to be furious.
Wet denim is extremely hard to get off, especially with closed eyes. I managed to inhale water and had to break, spluttering to the surface. Edward actually laughed at me and my eyes narrowed. Yeah, we'd see who was laughing in a moment.
I ducked back under and got my shorts off. Underwear? The idea of microscopic critters swimming into my—ugh! With my luck, I would lose my virginity to a fish. I yanked my panties off and held it all beneath the water as I resurfaced, not being able to hold my breath as long. Edward was sitting a bit straighter and watching me more closely.
"Bella?"
"I'm fine," I answered, realizing he could probably hear how quickly my heart had sped up. "Just trying to stay under as long as I can." He nodded but continued to watch as I ducked under one final time. With only a little more struggling, I had my shirt and bra off.
I surfaced with my back to Edward, casually tossing my clothing onto the dock, glad that the heavy cloth was easier to throw.
Before they'd even hit the wood, I heard him hiss, "What are you doing?"
"Huh?" I retorted, glancing at him over my shoulder.
His eyes were slits and he was standing now, stepping closer to the water's edge as he demanded, "Isabella Marie Swan, put your clothes back on right now."
"Um . . . no?" I replied before diving beneath the water. I wasn't feeling embarrassed at all. Actually, I was full of giggles. I felt naughty and impish and childish and free. The water could completely dominate me now; every pore inhaled the coolness and darkness of the lake.
When I resurfaced, he was standing on the dock that I wouldn't have dared venture on, holding out my clothes while his eyes remained trained on the shore. "Get dressed. Now."
"Make me."
"Bella . . ." he pleaded, but I recognized his tactic change for what it was. He always started firm, then pleaded. He would threaten next.
"Edward . . ." I mimicked his whine.
He huffed, "Fine, we're leaving."
"Fine," I shrugged. But instead of reaching for my clothing, I turned and began walking to shallower water. It had already been below my chest, but with my hair still pulled up in a bun, my naked back was presented entirely to him. He had never seen so much skin, and the thought made me blush and snicker as I tried not to consider that chest was entirely exposed to the forest. If anyone was hiding there, watching . . .
I continued walking, dying to see his face, wondering what he could possibly be thinking. Just as the water was about to dip beneath my hips, I glanced over my shoulder at him, smirking. His eyes were wide and dark, unblinking. He didn't look to be breathing at all. It was thrilling how he looked at me: captivated. Entranced. Dare I say it, dazzled by my naked back.
"Coming?" I asked, looking back at the Volvo and taking another step forward.
Then there was a splash.
I crouched back to hide in the water and looked back at the pier, but there was no Edward. Only two piles of clothing.
Suddenly he was gripping my wrists and dragging me back out to deeper water, growling, "What are you trying to do here, Bella?"
"Cool off."
"And how is that working out for you?" I hardly heard him, though, because it had suddenly dawned on me what two piles of clothes meant. Edward was as naked as I was. I had seen his chest before, and now my eyes ran over it as his muscles flexed, holding me tightly as he pulled me along. Beneath the water, his abs would be contracting with each step, and beneath his abs . . . my stomach started slamming against my ribs.
"Uh . . . not so good anymore, actually."
He finally let go of my wrists, but he had gone too deep, and I had been relying on him completely to keep me afloat. Instantly I slipped beneath the water and just as quickly he dragged my back up, pulling a bit too roughly so that more than just my shoulders came out of the water.
He gasped, dropped me again, and I slid under again. I decided to save myself, grabbing his shoulders and hauling myself. This, though, brought us crashing together, skin against skin in the cold water. With nothing between us, our bodies made complete contact. I felt and was hyperaware of every inch of him pressed against my stomach, harder than even the muscles of his chest and arms.
"Why are you doing this to me?" he groaned, his eyes fluttering closed. He froze, holding his breath, as though the entire situation would disappear. Well, his hard on certainly wasn't going to disappear on its own.
"I didn't make you get naked and jump into a lake," I argued.
His eyes opened just the slightest bit as he whispered, "You didn't give me much choice." I shifted as my grip on his wet shoulders began to slip and he gasped, suddenly gripping my hips and holding me away from him. "Bella!" He was staring at me wide-eyed, like I had just dumped a drink over his head or something as equally surprising. I just stared back, not sure what to do. It had been a game; I hadn't expected him to actually dive in with me.
With him holding me by my hips, I was free to trail my hands down his chest and across his tensed arms and up his smooth neck. This I did, not letting my eyes slip down to the water because I really wasn't sure how much it would hide, if anything. His eyes remained trained on my face as well, even though small waves around us repeatedly exposed my chest to the cold air. I ran my thumb along his lips and he kissed it; goosebumps sprang up along my arms and across my chest, and he noticed.
"You're cold—"
"Then heat me up," I retorted.
He frowned and began, "Bella-" but I leaned forward, quickly sucking his bottom lip into my mouth. I felt the growl reverberate through his entire body; I could feel it through his hands on my hips. "Bella, don't—I'm not strong enough—"
"Less talking," I mumbled back, my lips leaving his lips to trail across his cheek.
"Bella. Bella, Bella," he begged, resting his forehead on my shoulder. "Stop . . .please, stop, now, this has to stop. We have to—"
"No, Edward. No, we don't have to stop."
"We have to stop this right now or I'm not going to—I'm not strong enough to stop this if we go any further."
Any further? I felt like we had pretty much already crossed the point of no return. But to make absolute sure, I ran my tongue his ear, then clamped my teeth around his earlobe. He yelled and reflexively yanked my hips forward, crushing my body against his; I could feel his erection pressed against my stomach; was it possible that it was even harder than before? I locked my feet behind his thighs before he could push me away, and the realization that my toes were brushing his bare ass, that backside that every girl in Forks had gaped at and dreamed about, gave me a fresh dose of adrenaline. Not that I needed it by this point. Eyes on the prize.
"Bella, please, Bella, I'm begging you," he pleaded, but already he was trailing kisses across my shoulder and up my neck. "I can't—we can't do this, I'll hurt you."
"The water," I whispered back, my fingers digging into his back as his tongue flickered into the space behind my earlobe. Hadn't Alice told me that? It was one of her guesses for how me and Edward could do this. "The water will help . . . you won't hurt me."
"Bella, I—" but he interrupted himself with a completely foreign sound, a noise I didn't know was even possible. My hand had slipped between us, my fingers spreading along his erection, and he gave a strangled cry into my neck that was some combination of oh, ah, agh, and guh.
Good, he had passed the point of no return, too. It was good we were on the same page now. I ran my hand down only once before his own hands left my hips to cup my backside and pull me up and against him so that his length was pressed against my crotch, the water no longer being able to suck away enough of the warmth. I kissed his forehead and leaned my head back as his lips trailed across my chest. My fingers knotted in his hair and I pushed myself higher as his mouth found my breasts, his lips closing around each nipple in turn, his tongue dancing and swirling across my skin.
"Edward . . ." I moaned, biting my lip, wishing desperately he could bite me without all the venom and turning-into-a-vampire drama.
He hissed at my moan and brought his kisses back up to my neck and my jaw, then sighed against my mouth, "You're beautiful, Bella. So perfect . . ." His fingers were wandering, running along my legs, up my back, pulling me tightly against him as I bit his lip. Hard. He made that noise again, that noise that was quickly driving me insane. The good news was that I was beyond blushing, because every ounce of blood in my body had drained to the area between my legs. I could feel my pulse there, feel every twist of the water against the flushed skin.
I wanted him inside me. I wanted it so badly, to feel his coldness thrust deep into my body, to feel his marble hardness around me, under me, inside me. I couldn't think of anything else, not names or love or eternity or tomorrow.
I bucked my hips against him, pulling myself higher so that my pubic bone crashed against his erection. We both groaned together, his lips not leaving my collarbone. I bucked again, digging my nails into his lower back and whimpering, "Please, Edward. I—please."
"Are you su—"
"Yes!" I cried into his neck. This was no time for hesitations or doubts. Fortunately, he was clearly feeling the urgency as well. One of his hands snaked down between us, and suddenly I felt his head pressing against me, a smooth rock digging into my pubic bone, and then rubbing roughly against the sensitive lips, and then pressing firmly but gently against my entrance.
"Bella, it's supposed to hurt," he tried to warn, but I'd had enough of his talking. I had been waiting for this moment for a year and a half. I didn't care about his fears or concerns anymore. I didn't care if it hurt; I didn't care if it felt like I was being ripped in two.
I dug my heels into his backside, slamming myself down on him, and he instantly met my exertion, thrusting himself the rest of the way in. I screamed and bit his neck harder than I had bit his lip; any human would have been headed to the hospitals for stitches, without a doubt. His skin didn't even change color.
"Bella—"
"NO, no, Edward, again, please," I begged, sucking the skin that I had bit and burying my face in his neck. He was deep . . . god, he was deep. My body was stretching and pulling to make room for a very large new resident, and it felt like every organ in my body had shifted, every piece of me felt the welcome intrusion. And he was cold. Every sex conversation I had ever awkwardly sat through had talked about the heat and the warmth and how you blended together, but I could feel every inch of Edward's cold inside me, like someone had shoved a column of ice cubs into the pit of my stomach.
When he didn't move, I flexed my hips, trying to shove him deeper, as if there was any space left. There was nothing. I was full entirely and my body was quickly tightening around him, trying desperately to keep in him me because god it felt right. Nothing had ever felt more right, more natural, more good.
He suddenly started to pull out and I whimpered, feeling my body collapse as he pulled out. Before I could voice a protest, though, just before he was completely out, he jerked my hips down, thrusting in deep again. I screamed again, not caring if my voice echoed out over the water. Let campers hear me. Let mothers explain our love to their children.
"Edward," I cried, my fingers digging into his shoulders, then his hair as he began kissing my neck. He pulled out and pushed in again, slow this time, and it was infuriating. I didn't want to go slow. I wanted him to go in and out as fast as he possibly could, to feel that friction between us, to feel the cold marble forcing its way roughly into my body again and again.
Suddenly he exhaled sharply against my neck and I realized he'd been so quiet because he was holding his breath. He pulled out again, and this time I wasn't the only one that cried out when he thrust into me, hard again, his fingers digging into my hips. I was going to bruise, but I didn't care. It wasn't too much, and it was nothing compared to the overwhelming, the suffocating pleasure pushing its way out to my fingers.
"Bella, Bella, Bella," he chanted quickly into my hair. "Bella, I love you." He kissed me, frozen, but I didn't want him to freeze; I wanted him to move.
"IloveyoutooEdwardplease," I moaned, pulling my hips back and slamming them as hard as I could. Alice had been right; the water made it difficult. I wasn't strong enough to do much.
"God, Bell—" he cut himself out to growl at the sky, as I pulled myself up out of the water, just so we were almost disconnect, and then let gravity yank me back down onto him. It only went so far, but he did the rest, yanking me hips the rest of the way down onto him. I felt the aftershock of the jolt all the way through the top of my chest as he panted into my neck, "I can't go slow anymore, Bella." His face was wild, his eyes dark, his lips swollen. I wondered if this was what he looked like when he hunted, his eyes wide and unblinking.
"No, Edward, don't go slow," I insisted. Instead of pushing me out and pulling me back like before, though, he crushed my tight against him, and then flexed his hips. It wasn't as hard a movement, but it was so much faster, and the friction between our wet bodies as I slid up and down at the force of his thrusts was just as glorious, his arms around my hips and my shoulders as he pumped.
My breathing was getting shorter and louder as I sucked in air through my clenched teeth, I couldn't open my eyes, and the water no longer felt cold. I could feel the tension rising along my back, across my shoulders, and back down my stomach.
"Edward, I . . . Edward, I . . ." I repeated, trying to make some sort of sense. I didn't. I whined and panted and moaned as he grunted into my shoulder, his eyes squeezed tightly shut.
"Let it go, Bella," he managed to choke out; I had never heard his voice so rough. I wanted to prolong everything but I couldn't argue; I had no choice; I was in control of nothing anymore.
He pulled out almost entirely then shoved deep, deep, and it felt like he kept going, like everything was dragging out. He was still going deeper and my yell wasn't stopping, ripping from the base of my throat and out through my teeth as my face turned to the sky as my eyes rolled into the back of my head. Then my entire body clenched around him inside of me, my back arched, my shoulders pulled inward, my hips rising and jerking. My back rolled out of its arch and then I was panting, gasping for air, seeing light flares in front of my eyes as I collapsed against him, my forehead on his shoulder. He held me against him, but gently, not the way he had crushed me to him before. I had never felt so drained, so small, so secure.
We were like that for a while before my head began to settle and my breathing began to actually deliver oxygen to my body. I moved just the slightest bit and jerked, painfully sensitive to any movement. He hadn't pulled out, and I didn't want him to, didn't want to lose that connection, even if my body twitched at the water brushing around us.
What was it like for vampires? Had he enjoyed it at all? I was struggling to remember my own name and where we were – why were we in a lake again? I could definitely feel that he was smaller and softer inside me, but my knowledge of male anatomy, and male vampire anatomy in particular, was severely limited. Had I been able to do anything for him? Could it even compare to what he had done to me?
I began to lean back and ask him but he whispered, "Don't move. I . . . I need another minute." Again, I sure wasn't going to argue. So I wrapped my arms around his neck and closed my eyes and focused every ounce of my being on memorizing the way this felt, the way he felt inside me, the way his arms felt against my sweaty skin as the water swirled around our bodies.
The air had cooled considerably and I shivered, which ended the moment. His eyes opened slowly and blinked rapidly several times as though he had just returned to the land of the living, and he kissed my hair, my cheek, my nose, and finally my lips, lingering there before sighing, "I love you, Bella Swan. I can't believe you just took advantage of me like that."
I laughed, twitching painfully as he rubbed inside my; I was still too sensitive. I hated the fact, but I needed him out; it was too much now. I shifted just enough to pull off him, then relaxed again. His hand slid down and cupped between my legs, gently but firmly, and I felt the sensitivity slip away a bit. It also helped make up the lack of him inside my body; my organs that had moved so quickly to let him in earlier were now mourning his disappearance.
"Bella, tell me the truth. How . . . how bad was it?" He pulled his hand away, then leaned back to look at my face, his arms clamped tightly around my waist.
I frowned, "Bad? What could possibly have been bad about that?"
"I mean, the pain . . ."
"I . . ." I stared down at the water in confusion. It was supposed to hurt. I had always been told it would hurt terribly. And we hadn't even been gentle that first entrance. There had been a warm pressure as he pushed in, and quite a bit of muscle pain as my body adjusted to the sudden thrust . . . But try as I could, I couldn't for the life of me remember any particular pain. "I don't think I was in pain."
"Think?"
I gave a relieved huff of air and insisted, "If I was in pain . . . I was enjoying everything too much to notice."
"Not even the first time?"
"No. I mean, there was pressure, and it was tight, but—" He groaned and his eyes closed again, making me giggle. Then I remembered my question and asked, "But what about – I mean, did you – could you enjoy that at all?"
The breath came rushing quickly from his chest as he choked, "What are you talking about?"
"I . . . I mean, was it good for you?"
He laughed and tightened his grip on my again, burying his face into the wild curls that had slipped from my bun. "Was it good for me," he repeated. "Bella, Bella, my Bella!" He kissed my neck, then sighed, "No wonder . . ."
"No wonder what?"
"All those times I've had to leave the house because everyone was just . . . no wonder. I had no idea it could be so . . . Bella," he sighed. I had never seen Edward at a loss for words. The idea that I had done that, that I had stolen his words –and his virginity!—made me giddy beyond all belief.
Before I could say anything further, though, he suddenly snickered, "We need to go."
"What?"
"Grandpa's bringing the boat around . . ." I gasped, then let him tug me to the dock to get our clothes. We dressed as best we could underwater, somehow suddenly modest, then splashed to the shore and were safely pulling away by the time a grandfather with his three young grandchildren floated into view.
Edward rolled the windows down and made a face, "Yeah, now you can help me get the smell of lake out of these seats . . ."
"All right," I grinned, biting my lip and looking out the window. "And then we can take a shower to get the smell of lake off of us . . ." He groaned, but didn't say no.
So . . . awful? too fast? too slow? Tell me how I was as a lover, haha. No, but do give me feedback. I've never written lemons before, but it was quite delightful. If I was bad in bed, though, I don't want to waste time writing more . . . okay, enough innuendos. Just review, haha.