Everything was black-and-white, leached colourless by the moon. I walked slowly across the warm powder, pausing beside the curved tree where he had left his clothes. I laid my hand against the rough bark and checked my breathing to make sure it was even. Or even enough.
I looked across the low ripples, black in the darkness, searching for him.
He wasn't hard to find. He stood, his back to me, waist deep in the midnight water, staring up at the oval moon. The pallid light of the moon turned his skin a perfect white, like the sand, like the moon itself, and made his wet hair black as the ocean. He was motionless, his hands resting palms down against the water; the low waves broke around him as if he were a stone. I stared at the smooth lines of his back, his shoulders, his arms, his neck, the flawless shape of him...
The fire was no longer a flash burn across my skin – it was slow and deep now; it smouldered away all my awkwardness, my shy uncertainty. I slipped the towel off without hesitation, leaving it on the tree with his clothes, and walked out into the white light; it made me pale as the snowy sand, too.
I couldn't hear the sound of my footsteps as I walked to the water's edge, but I guessed that he could. Edward did not turn. I let the gentle swells break over my toes, and found that he'd been right about the temperature- it was very warm, like bath water. I stepped in, walking carefully across the invisible ocean floor, but my care was unnecessary; the sand continued perfectly smooth, sloping gently toward Edward. I waded through the weightless current till I was at his side, and then I placed my hand lightly over his cool hand lying on the water.
"Beautiful," I said, looking up at the moon, too.
"It's all right," he answered, unimpressed. He turned slowly to face me; little waves rolled away from his movement and broke against my skin. His eyes looked silver in his ice-coloured face. He twisted his hand up so that he could twine our fingers beneath the surface of the water. It was warm enough that his cool skin did not raise goose bumps on mine.
"But I wouldn't use the word beautiful," he continued. "Not with you standing here in comparison."
I half-smiled, then raised my free hand- it didn't tremble now- and placed it over his heart. White on white; we matched, for once. He shuddered the tiniest bit at my warm touch. His breath came rougher now.
"I promised we would try," he whispered, suddenly tense. "If... if I do something wrong, if I hurt you, you must tell me at once."
I nodded solemnly, keeping my eyes on his. I took another step through the waves and leaned my head against his chest.
"Don't be afraid," I murmured. "We belong together."
I was abruptly overwhelmed by the truth of my own words. This moment was so perfect, so right, there was no way to doubt it.
His arms wrapped around me, holding me against him, summer and winter. It felt like every nerve ending in my body was a live wire.
"Forever," he agreed. - SM (Breaking Dawn)
Together we waded into deeper water. Eventually the ocean floor dropped away beneath us and we were floating, twined together. I used all my strength to press myself into his unyielding body, hands roving over him possessively. Joy blossomed in my chest- I was allowed to be possessive now, I was his and he was mine, forever. I felt the weight of the ring on my finger and wondered how I had ever objected to it, how I had ever even survived without that ever-present symbol of his love.
A small wave broke against his back and splashed me. He chuckled as I flinched, and pulled away from him to wipe the salt water from my face. I hit the water with my hand, trying to splash him too, but he was too fast and he ducked out of the way. Suddenly he was behind me and another splatter of water wet my hair, which had just begun to dry after my shower. His composure began to irritate me, though I knew it was only because I was nervous, and I twisted, trying again and again to soak him with a spray of water, as he ducked and dipped, avoiding every onslaught and chuckling the whole time.
Seeing that I was getting nowhere, I changed tactics and launched myself at him, hoping to force him underwater with my weight. He caught me and pulled me close, and suddenly we were both deadly serious. I gazed into his eyes, drained of their normal warmth by the moonlight, and he bent to kiss me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and returned his kiss breathlessly. My heart thudded and I swooned dizzily but he did not break off the kiss as he usually did. It grew deeper and softer, but although this softer kiss left me space to regain my breath, by head didn't stop spinning and I clung to him as if he was the only thing in the universe.
I didn't notice exactly when it happened, but I gradually became aware that I was lying down not floating, that the surface beneath me was warm, dry, and soft. Eventually the kiss ended and I opened my eyes. In the fraction of a second before my gaze locked onto his face, pulled there like a magnet, I saw that we were now inside, on the huge white bed.
Somehow that made what was happening more official, more immediate. I sighed in anticipation that was mostly eager, but held just the slightest touches of fear and regret that this moment would now always be behind me.
I stared into his eyes, so warm and soft, and caught a glimpse of wildness, of hunger, before he drew a deep, shuddering, breath and his eyes gentled again. He bent his head to mine and I lifted my arms to draw him closer, but he pinned my hands at my sides in a gentle but unbreakable grasp.
The touch of his lips on mine was light, like the brush of a butterfly's wing and lasted only a moment. A short, frustrated, whimper escaped my lips at this, but it was quickly silenced as his lips moved to my neck. He kissed me there, as lightly as he had kissed my lips. I struggled to free my hands, wanting to twine my fingers in his hair, to crush myself into his marble chest, but his grip was implacable.
Then I felt a new sensation that replaced the brush of his lips as his head darted to my collarbone. For a moment the strangeness threatened to force a hysterical laugh from between my lips, but the moment was so perfect that I couldn't bear to break it, and I bit my lip, the pain a perfect counterpoint to the pleasure budding in me. His tongue was tracing the lines of my neck, lapping up the lingering sea water that was mingling with my sweat and slowly drying in the cool night air.
I could no longer see his face as he moved slowly over my body, and I shut my eyes, overwhelmed by sensation. It was exquisite to the point of pain, lying there passively, shackled by his hands around my wrists, his legs twined with mine so that there was not one part of me I could move to hold him to me.
My back arched, baring my neck and offering up my breasts to his hungry searching tongue. Soft sobs and whimpers escaped my lips as my breath caught each time he touched me, and the small part of my mind that remained rational worried that he would interpret this wrongly, but he seemed to hear the passion and desire in my voice and his maddening attentions never skipped a beat- although I was sure my heart skipped several beats, racing as it was at the speed of a hummingbird's.
"Please," I murmured. "Please." I didn't know what I was begging for; the feeling of his lips tracing the lines of my body, his tongue lapping at each curve, it was unbearably sweet, and I never wanted it to stop, even as I was sure that any moment the sensations building within me would cause me to break apart. Surely, soft and weak as I was, I couldn't contain such powerful, primal, forces as he was unleashing within me.
But nothing, not the fiery weals of coursing blood his touch brought to my skin, or the surging rush of heat I felt in my belly, nothing could prepare me for the moment that his head dipped between my legs and his mouth found my core.
A hoarse, unearthly, cry emerged between my parted lips, and that small, rational, part of me worried once again that he would misinterpret the sound. But he seemed to be as lost now as I was- his lips were no longer gentle, they were hard and hungry as they sucked and tugged at me, his tongue a cold, hard point that delved deeply into me. I felt a faint thrill of terror shiver down my spine at having his mouth... his teeth... so close to a part of me that was so heavily scented and pulsing with blood, but the fear seemed to only enhance the experience. My cries grew harsher and wilder and I thought I heard a low snarling from his throat. I was glad we had the island to ourselves, for anyone listening would surely have thought our noises came from some poor soul being eaten alive by a wild animal.
At that thought laughter bubbled to my lips again and mingled with my screaming to produce a loud, throaty, exultation. At last the fire was too much for me to contain and I broke apart, shuddering and thrashing in Edward's arms. My laughter transformed without my noticing to loud, ripping sobs and too quickly for me to follow Edward had me cradled in his arms, his face wild with worry and remorse.
"What did I..." before he had finished speaking I took advantage of his nearness and pressed my lips to his, twining my limbs around him until we seemed like one seamless creature in the moonlight. Feeling him next to me, my sobs shuddered to a halt, and I willed him to feel the desire in my body, willed him to know that my sobbing was from release, not anguish, but he put his hands on my shoulders and pulled me away from him so that he could examine my face.
"Are you..." he began, but I pressed a finger to his lips to quiet him. I remembered the way his eyes looked when they burned into me, the heat and desire in them, and tried to force the same heat into my eyes. I smouldered at him. I tried to make my voice seductive, and the soreness of my throat helped, making my words deep and husky. "That was all very nice..." I murmured, "but I believe you promised me more..." I tried to make my words suggestive, feeling a little silly as I ground my hips against him, trying to clarify my point.
He stared at me a moment longer, trying to decide if I was hiding anything to spare him. Finally he laid me gently down on the bed, his fingers playing with my hair.
"Promise me that you're ok," he demanded softly. I narrowed my eyes to a glare, clutching to my frustration, knowing that my anger at his overzealous caution was all that stood between me and my despair at having ruined the perfect moment with my uncontrolled reactions.
"I promise that I am ok. Better than ok in fact," I hissed at him, "now stop worrying and keep your promise." I hesitated, a sudden wave of insecurity crushing me. "Unless you don't want me." My voice was barely a whisper as I forced the words out. He had promised... but I didn't want that to be the only reason he was here with me. What if he really didn't find my clumsy, oh so breakable, body appealing in that way?
It was his turn to be frustrated; as he turned to face me now the corner of his mouth twitched up in an exasperated smile.
"Of all the ridiculous..." his muttering trailed off, I wasn't sure he had meant me to hear it. "There is nothing on this earth that I want... that I desire... more than you, Bella." His voice was low and earnest, and he leaned in to whisper in my ear.
"I want you so much that it terrifies me." His voice was breathy and he spoke almost too quickly for me to make out the words, "I came so close to losing control just now. Your scent, your taste..." he trailed off, pausing to take a deep breath before he continued, "when you reacted so strongly, I could only imagine the worst. When I thought I had hurt you with my..." he paused again; it was strange to hear him struggle for words when he was usually so eloquent.
"With my hunger," he finally continued, "it was unbearable. I thought I had done all I could to prepare myself for this... experience..." and now that crooked smile I loved fleetingly lit up his face, "but I wasn't prepared for the strength of your reaction."
"Well," I whispered, pleased that the lingering huskiness in my voice made the word sound sultry, "perhaps now you know what to prepare yourself for we could," and now I hesitated over the words, blushing furiously, "move on to the main attraction," I finished, with far less sultry composure than I had started with.
"Are you sure you're ready Bella? There's no pressure to do this tonight, we can stay here as long as you want to. You don't have to rush this." He was frowning again, tenderly stroking my cheek which was still wet from tears.
"Edward," I said through clenched teeth, my tone a mixture of despair and frustration. "I am not being brave, or... or stubborn, and I'm not rushing. I want this, you, and I want it now." This time when I leaned in to kiss him there was no caution, no resistance. Though his lips were as granite-hard as always, I could almost feel them melting into mine, absorbing the burning heat of my skin.
He pushed me firmly to the bed and suddenly he was there above me, a black shape blotting out the moonlight. I felt his knees slide in between mine and I lifted my legs to wrap them around his waist, locking my ankles together even though I knew all my strength couldn't hold him if he decided to pull away from me.
I traced his cheekbones with my trembling fingers and then twined them into his hair. Despite all my bravado, I was beginning to be scared, but I pulled him down to me so that I could press my face into his neck, the warm, spicy, indefinable smell of him reassuring and relaxing me.
"I'm ready," I whispered. No one but a vampire could have heard the words that barely escaped my lips. Then I felt the cool hard length of him against my thigh. So big! I thought, biting back a gasp of fright. The tip of him pressed so gently against me and I felt myself yield to him. With agonising slowness he pushed into me until all of a sudden there was a resistance which his cool hardness broke almost instantly. I felt a sudden stab of pain and suddenly I realised what had happened. My hymen had broken. I was bleeding, bleeding on Edward.
Oh no, I thought oh no oh no, I never thought... oh no. He had stiffened, turning to granite in my arms. I was crushed with despair at my stupidity. How had I never realised this would happen? Too coolly I thought "so this is it. After all this time, all Edward has done to keep me safe, I get myself killed over something as stupid as this."
But Edward still hadn't moved. I opened my eyes, which had been closed in terror, and saw that he wasn't breathing. I tried to remember when I last noticed him taking a breath, but I couldn't. Then as abruptly as he had frozen, he relaxed against me, taking a cautious breath.
"Edward, I'm so sorry, I..." he cut me off with a finger pressed to my lips, in an odd echo of my earlier action.
"As I said," his tone was wry, "Your reactions may have surprised me, but this... this I was prepared for." He was breathing more easily now, and I let out the breath I had been holding. Of course Edward had been prepared. I may have forgotten, but Edward would never have failed to account for a detail like that.
"But how...?" I asked, wondering how how he could cope, in such close proximity to my freely flowing blood.
"Do you remember, in the forest, the day before...Victoria," his face turned savage, startling me, as he spat out her name. "You cut yourself on a piece of bark."
I remembered. Remembered how he had so carefully and tenderly bandaged my hand, remembered him telling me that everything, even the allure, the compulsion, of my blood, came second to his desire to keep me alive and safe.
"Ahh," I breathed. I understood, and I relaxed beneath him. He tenderly kissed my forehead, and then resumed his agonisingly slow pressure, sliding into me bit by bit. I tried to lie passively, aware that any incautious movement on my part could make everything so much harder for him, but I couldn't help the way my hips rose off the bed to meet him, the way my fists clenched and unclenched spasmodically against the mattress, pulling the sheets into crumpled dunes and valleys. When, finally, he was inside me, and I was as full as it was possible to be, he withdrew, still with the delicate slowness that was agonising to me. I couldn't believe that he really meant to keep up this frustrating teasing, I would go mad before long!
Forgetting all my caution I writhed in his arms, trying ineffectually to speed his strokes. He chuckled throatily at me.
"Patience, love, patience. This isn't easy you know," he murmured into my ear. Chagrined, I tried to regain my stillness, forcing my hunger to subside. But it was impossible to remain dispassionate for long, and despite my best efforts I was bucking and arching under him again within seconds. He let out a low rumble that might have been a growl.
"Trust me, Bella, it's easier if we do this my way. I don't want to hurt you." He sighed, and I could see how difficult the control was for him.
"You won't hurt me," I breathed, "but the frustration is killing me. Please..." I looked up at him, trying to appeal with my eyes.
Suddenly everything changed. His arms wrapped around me, practically crushing me to him. I realised I should have been scared; I could barely breathe, but all I wanted was to be closer to him. I clutched at him, adding my paltry strength to his. I needed this closeness, it was an anchor, and my head was spinning as he crushed me from the inside too, thrusting with increasing speed and forcefulness.
I had thought, once, that nothing could be as totally overwhelming as his kisses, but this was indescribably more. Unlike before, I wasn't screaming, I couldn't fill my lungs enough to produce even the quietest whisper. My breath came in ragged gasps and I couldn't quite work out whether this was the most awful pleasure, or the most exquisite pain. I couldn't see. There were bright starbursts in front of my eyes, the sort I usually associated with my all-too-frequent fainting episodes. I could feel... but not my body. What I felt was too huge for that. Had you asked me, in that moment, to lift a single finger, I couldn't have. I couldn't have even remembered where my fingers were.
It was beyond perfect, too far beyond. I couldn't comprehend it. I knew I couldn't bear another moment, but the moments kept coming. Dimly I knew that he was still holding back, still in control, pushing me only as far as he knew I could go. If he had lost control, I knew I would be dead. But then, maybe I was dead. Maybe this was heaven, or hell. Surely it couldn't be real.
Across the distance that separated the bundle of raw nerves I had been reduced to from the rest of my body I recognised that I was silently mouthing 'no' over and over, but I couldn't make a sound. I almost panicked - I was so utterly helpless in the face of this onslaught of sensation - but I was with Edward, and I knew he would keep me safe.
It was becoming easier to think, and I felt my hands cramping where they were curled around Edward's unyielding arms, so I loosened my grip. I was coming back to my self and I realised that Edward was smiling down at me, a smug look on his face as he slowed his movements back to his original, painstaking, gentleness.
"Shall we go back to my way?" he chuckled at me, and I nodded weakly. But it wasn't the same as before. The pace was just as slow, but this time it felt gentle, tender, rather than teasing. He was still holding me in his iron grip, and I could feel his body warming in response to the burning under my skin.
Gradually through the heat that consumed me – white hot wherever Edward's cool, smooth, skin touched mine – I felt a different fire, oddly fluid, bubbling up inside me. It began to wash over me in waves that became stronger and stronger, as if I were still out on the beach and the tide was coming in, threatening to drown me. But this was not a tide of cool seawater, this was a burning flow of molten magma.
Edward's eyes, which had been shut in concentration, flew open and fixed onto mine with a piercing gaze, and although he did not increase the pace of his thrusts they became somehow firmer. I fought the urge to throw my head back and surrender to the pulsing waves that were that were washing through me, fought to keep my eyes locked with his.
Though I knew that he could not read my mind, his gaze was so penetrating that it seemed to break down every barrier between us. I was laid bare before him and I felt known, more deeply than I ever had before. In this moment of unspoken communion I tried to show him all the things my silent mind had concealed from him before now – the depths of my trust, my love, my obsession, my resolve to be at his side forever.
I felt him shudder gently in my arms, his breath escaping his lips in a soft sigh, and those small, unchecked movements were all it took to send me over the edge, the waves breaking over me, leaving me struggling for air. Unlike before, however, I was not overcome by the sensation, I floated rather than drowning, still staring into Edward's eyes; warm topaz that held both tenderness and triumph. I drifted into sleep without realising my eyes had closed, for even with them shut all I saw was Edward, watching over me.