Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight.

From Sunset to Sunrise

"A dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight,
and his punishment is that he sees that dawn before the rest of the world."

Sunset.

The sky turns a multitude of gradient colors. Yellow's and gold's surround the setting sun on the west, turning paler and paler until it finally met the light blue day that led into a deep violet night.

Clouds were stippled across the entire surface of the sky, their edges silver, with their insides as stormy as the sea beneath them. They were beautiful, although malicious, for streaks of hot pink soared across the entire canvas. It popped against the background to bring all of the pale, bright, dark and contrasting colors together in a beautiful culmination that every one took for granted every day.

That is when my arms are allowed to wrap around her waist, and my lips are permitted to press against her own. That is when the reality we face during the day turns to the dreams we can have at night.

There's a fine like between the two, but we've found it.

Tonight she takes me to a hotel, "We deserve better than the forest floor, Jacob."

I blush because she's part way true and I feel sorry about that. She deserves better than the forest floor.

I know the place is too expensive, but the room is huge and I know I won't complain because this is the only time we have and I won't waste it on silly financial arguments that don't mean a damn thing in all reality. Because this isn't reality.

This is a dream.

I ghost my hands down her arms, feel her tremble, and press my chest against her back.

"Take a bath with me."

My arms wrap around her waist, her fingers tracing the corded muscles of my forearm as we sway, entwined together.

"Okay."

I life her up and carry her to the bathroom, setting her down only to strip her of her clothes and she is so beautiful when there is none left. She is so beautiful that my hands, my fingers, take on a mind of their own and they begin touching.

They touch in places I've been yearning to see, to taste. They touch in ways that make her moan so softly it's barely audible, but it's deafening to my ears. Her skin is so soft it's like satin, but hard like a thousand diamonds fused together to create this beautiful body before me, and she is just as gorgeous.

She growls when her dark eyes open and I'm aching between the legs.

She tears my clothes from my body and she's touching too. Just as explorative and curious and teasing as I was and suddenly I'm the one that's moaning and arching and her touch is cold, but it's setting me on fire.

I forget about the bathtub until the water is steaming the room so badly we can no longer see each other in the mirror. The water stops and I pick her up once more and settle her into the hot water, a moan of relief escaping her lips as she leans back.

I step in after her, taking my place between her and the back of the tub, her entire body touching mine. My legs dangle over the sides and she laughs, once, before my hands resume their earlier touching.

Her thighs are soft and almost supple as my hands slide between them and to the only warm part of her body. Her fingers find my forearms again and her nails are digging into my flesh but it feels good, because I know she feels good there too.

My long fingers stroke and trace and caress every bit of flesh between her legs until she's panting, and not from lack of oxygen. I smile against the skin of her neck and tease the hair there with the tip of my tongue.

We stay there, in the hot tub until the water grows cold, our hands and fingers still seeking out uncharted territory, though I'm sure I've discovered it all. She dries me with a soft towel, hands brushing against extra-sensitive extremities that have been begging for her touch for much too long now.

I do the same for her, drying her hair and under her breasts and between her legs especially. I can tell she wants me to touch her and she loves this because she never knows what's coming next.

Only I can surprise her.

I drop the towel when my hands are between her legs and swiftly enter a finger there, watching as her eyes open as wide as her mouth. Her chest heaves and her hands grip my shoulders. I swirl my long finger around her streaming entrance and when my finger presses against the soft spot about an inch or so in, she moans loudly and almost drops to the floor.

I lift her up again, laughing as I walk her to the bed.

"You're such a dog," she scowls, but I know she likes this.

"Woof."

I say and I smile before tossing her belly down onto the huge bed. She huffs slightly but before she can move I have her thighs in my hands and I'm lifting her backside up, high and higher until she's barely touching the bed at all.

Her flesh is completely exposed to me, and I can practically feel the warmth from my fingers lingering on her flesh as I take it into my mouth.

I can't make out the sounds that come from between her lips as I lick the entire length of her sex, dipping my tongue inside of her core with every stroke. I can tell when she's close to orgasm when my name falls like a sacred chant from her lips, over and over again.

That is when I lower her to the bed, and press the front of my thighs against the back of hers, and thrust forward, and God, she's wet. I don't know if it's from my tongue or if it's just her, but it's so easy to slide in and out of her that it almost feels so good it hurts.

I can barely contain myself from my own impending orgasm as I wait for hers.

My hand reaches across her hip and delves back into her folds, toying with that one special spot in that one special way that only I know makes her come almost instantly.

That's when she screams my name, and I can feel her orgasm and suddenly it's feeding my own and I can only feel her body around mine, I can only smell her sweet scent, can only hear my name on her lips.

We collapse, wasted on the bed and I know I fall asleep just like I know she holds me while I'm deep in that slumber.

She holds me until I'm close to waking and I'm so disappointed to see the sunrise behind her standing, clothed form.

I'm so disappointed that tears creep their way into my eyes, destroying my façade.

"I love you."

Is all she says, and she is gone.

I watch the sunrise then, with a cup of coffee she had made me, out on the small patio.

The darkness I loved was fighting the sun's colors, all orange and red and yellow, with it's deep blue and purple hues. But it was never any use.

The sky lightens as though it were a dimmer being slowly turned on in the sky. The darkness fades until it's nothing but the pale blue of day and the sun's yellow rays streak everywhere across the sky it now owns.

And as suddenly as it started, the dream ends.

Sunrise.