Disclaimer: Er...I don't know if I need to disclaim anything actually because no names are mentioned, but seeing as this is part of an actual story, I guess I should. I don't own anything publicly recognisable. Twilight belings to Stephenie Meyer and real people belong to themselves.

As mentioned, this is actually a scene from 'The Dimming Light' chapter 24 - a version of it that I couldn't post within a story with a T rating, which I didn't want to change to an M because it's not really the point of the story. So yeah, this won't make any sense at all if you haven't read the story, but it was written for the very patient readers of the story who wait patiently for the at times late updates. It's an apology of sorts...so enjoy I guess.

The First Time

It had been an exhilarating night for the both of them, though for completely different reasons. She had spent the beginning of the night standing beside her parents and pretending to still be the girl that cared about the goings on of high society, marvelling at the fact that not only had she felt comfortable in this world before, but that she had revelled in it. She couldn't believe that she had been one of the girls that she was now ridiculing in her head and wondered whether she would still be if she hadn't met him all those months ago. She shook the thought away now as she looked at him standing across the room, unable to even comprehend that there could have been any other path her life could have taken. She felt as if everything that had come before the night she met him had simply been leading up to the meeting. She may have now been able to see how empty and shallow her life was before, but she would never regret growing up the way she did because if she hadn't, she may have never met him and that was just unacceptable.

On his part, he'd just come back from performing in front of several thousand people, all of whom were singing the words he had written back at him. He had dreamed of nights like tonight since he had first picked up a guitar and now all his dreams were coming true. Actually, it seemed as if the things he hadn't even had the imagination to dream about were coming true and sometimes he had a very strange urge to pinch himself to see whether it was all real. He certainly had that exact thought when he opened the door to his hotel room as saw the face that had been behind his closed eyelids and in front of his open eyes for the past eight months. He had to blink several times to make sure that what he was seeing was actually her instead of the vision that he carried in his head of her for the many times when he couldn't actually be with her.

After the fifth time that he opened his eyes to her increasingly puzzled face, he finally let himself believe that she was actually in front of him and he couldn't cross the room fast enough.

"I didn't think I'd see you until Sunday night," he breathed into her hair. He had picked her up and inhaled the scent of her, assuring himself that she was really here because even in his most vivid dreams, he could never recreate the exact scent she exuded.

She laughed as he put her back down on the floor, but didn't once loosen the arms that were wrapped around her waist. "I couldn't wait," she answered. "I had to come and see you."

"What about your parents?"

"They're still at my grandfather's," she informed him. "They won't be back until Sunday and they think that I'm with Kate so..."

He pulled back from her and gave her the happiest smile that she had ever seen; a smile that warmed her to the very depths of her soul. She loved that she made him this happy because words couldn't truly capture just what he meant to her; just how much she loved him; just how much he had changed her life.

"I get you for a whole weekend?" he asked, feeling like his face was about to split into two along the plane of his lips, but not really caring as long as he got to spend the next forty-eight hours with the girl in his arms. When she nodded her confirmation, he picked her up again and spun her around, revelling in her laughter, which put shame to every piece of music he could ever hope to write.

"God I love you," he told her when he finally slowed down the twirling and put her feet back into contact with the ground. Ever since he had first said those words to her four months ago, he had said them again and again every single day; he would never be able to say it to her enough because even though those words meant everything, they could never really capture everything he felt towards her. He loved her more than he could comprehend and certainly more than he could ever express.

She smiled softly up at him and brought her right hand to trace the contours of his face, relishing the way his eyes closed ever so slightly when her fingers brushed his lips. She stood on her tip toes and ever so softly followed the path her fingers had taken only seconds before with her own lips. "I love you too," she whispered against his now partly opened mouth. She grinned a little at the way his breathing sped up in reaction to her, proud at the fact that she affected him in much the same manner he affected her.

There were several seconds where the both of them didn't move and the only sound in the room was their increasingly ragged breathing. They were both thinking exactly the same thing in that moment; that even though words were never going to be enough to express their true emotions regarding the other, they always had actions. After all, didn't everyone say that actions spoke louder than words? So if they words that proclaimed love were so powerful then surely the act of making love would be a thousand times more so.

The decision was made in a split second; or perhaps it had been being made for months because without any real conscious thought or any more verbal communication between the two of them, suddenly hands, arms, feet, legs and mouths were moving with much more purpose than before. There was a sense of urgency between them, not because either thought that the moment might pass – the moment would never pass – but because it had been too long. They had felt these emotions building from the moment that had laid eyes on each other on that otherwise quite forgettable night in Paris and for reasons neither could think of at the moment, they hadn't thought to express them in this way before now. How stupid they were.

"Very stupid," she said into the room that was to bear witness to just how much they truly felt for one another.

"Hmm," he agreed, somehow knowing exactly what she was talking about even though every part of his mind and body was otherwise occupied with trying to truly convey to the woman he loved just what that meant.

He had walked her backwards so that she felt the edge of the bed pressing on the back of her knees, causing her to fall backwards slightly, but she barely felt the impact because he had put down an arm to buffer their fall whilst wrapping her tightly in his other one so that their bodies were never more than a centimetre apart. Whoever said that men couldn't multitask had obviously never been in this position with this man because he didn't even break in his exploration of her mouth and lips.

She could feel every single part of his body and yet his weight wasn't crushing her like she thought it would and for some reason, she took this as a sign that he just wasn't close enough so she pulled him hard. She must have caught him by surprise because he fell quite suddenly onto her, causing air to rush out of her lungs, but she didn't care as long as he just got a little bit closer. Wondering if it was at all possible to just crawl inside him, she wrapped her legs around his and pulled him closer, causing his pelvis to press into hers with a force that neither of them were expecting

She groaned and felt her eyelids close of their own volition as her legs tightened around him further. It hadn't been her intention to press the rapidly hardening member still encased in his jeans into her awaiting centre, but now that it had happened, she wanted more. No, she needed more.

As if reading her mind – or maybe he had just discovered that he also needed certain parts of her to be in far more contact with certain parts of him – he picked his hips back up and slammed them back down into her. The gasp that sounded from her lips was one of surprise, but it was so coloured in lust and arousal that he was repeating the movement before he even had time to really think about it. If he could have concentrated on anything else but the feeling of her body writhing under him and the little sounds of pleasure that she was making, he would have found it a little funny that they were dry humping themselves into a frenzy; something he hadn't done since he was sixteen and horny. Now, he was 22 and horny, but more than that, he was completely in love with this woman; so completely in love with her that the only way he could stop his body from erupting with it was to pour some of that love into her, to give her some of himself.

Before she could even breathe the single syllable 'more' into his mouth, he was already unzipping the dress covering her beautiful body. He had seen her naked before, had marvelled at the smooth perfection of her skin, the sensuous curve of her hips and the more than generous swell of her breasts. However, when she pulled away to fully take the dress away from her body and he got the opportunity to just stop and look at her, he couldn't help the sharp intake of breath. She was the very definition of perfection in a way that he had never even thought to imagine it. She was everything that was good and pure and right with the world and she was laid down before him, ready to give herself to him completely. How the hell did he get so lucky?

"What?" she asked, her voice hushed, as if she was afraid to break the spell that surrounded them.

He shook his head. "I just can't believe you're real."

"Don't," she protested. She didn't want him to start questioning this, to lessen the impact of this moment by analysing it to death.

This was perfect; they were perfect together.

He opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off by placing her lips on his and swallowing whatever words he was going to throw out there. She kissed him slowly, almost languidly, allowing him to understand what it was that was happening between them. When he reached his arms around to her back and unhooked her bra, she smiled against his lips and knew that he understood. This night was for them to enjoy each other and bask in the absolute certainty that was their love; nothing else mattered. The rest of the world did not exist, not tonight.

Her bra was dropped off of the edge of the bed, but she barely had time to register the cold air hitting her breasts when she felt his hands caressing them instead of the lace that had covered them before. His hands were beautifully calloused from his years of playing the guitar and the feel of his hardened fingers running over her nipples made her moan. His lips left hers and she used the opportunity to take deep breaths in an attempt to keep the light-headedness she was feeling at bay. However, just as her breathing came under her control, his warm, wet lips slid over her right nipple, causing her breath to halt. The grazing of his teeth on the same spot made her bite her own lip, all thoughts of breathing properly again completely gone.

He smiled as he felt her chest heave underneath him and noticed that her body was tensing. Her skin was unbelievably soft and supple and all he wanted to do was devour every single inch of her; quite a disturbing thought really. He moved his mouth over to her other breast, making sure to never actually let his lips leave her inviting, flushed skin. He wanted to explore every part of her, but he also wanted to relieve the pressure that was building within the two of them; the pressure that had been building for months now. He didn't want to rush tonight, but he didn't know how long he could wait to finally physically connect with her.

She made the decision for him when she began to tug him upwards, pulling on the material of his shirt. She didn't have to tell him that she wanted it off; the sheer force at which she was grabbing at it made him fairly sure that if he didn't take it off his body soon, she would rip it to shreds. He found that incredibly erotic and with his shirt, he shed his jeans, making sure that there was now no barrier between them aside from the scrap of lace that covered her sweet centre. He could feel her eyes roving over his body, as if she was seeing him for the first time; much the same way his own had moved over hers minutes before.

She reached him before he had a chance to get back to her and kissed him on his torso, which was the highest place she could reach from her position on the bed whilst he had been standing. She kissed downward of the first place her lips had branded him, trailing fire from the skin covering his stomach, down to his groin. He groaned at the feeling, knowing that she would be coming face to face with his ever growing erection for the first time.

When her mouth first brushed against the tip of his penis, he thought he would literally blow his load at that very moment, which would have been beyond embarrassing. He hadn't been this out of control of the responses his body made to a female since he was a teenager. The first time her tongue flicked out to touch his head, he couldn't control the forward movement of his pelvis and if he had been capable of coherent thought he would have been worried about whether or not she had been caught by surprise. She was exploring the end few inches of his penis as if she had never felt one in her mouth before and it was all he could do not to thrust into her mouth forcefully, to obtain the friction that his body was craving.

"Oh god please," he was begging, eyes shut tight to fight the animalistic urges rising rapidly throughout his body; though exactly what he was pleading for and to whom, he didn't have a clue.

Her answering "Hmmm?" was torture and he had to almost forcibly remove her from her current position so that this night didn't end with him fucking her mouth. They certainly had that kind of passion in their relationship, but this wasn't about that.

She looked up him for a second, confusion clouding her beautiful green eyes, but he touched her face tenderly and kissed her with so much adoration that she immediately understood why he had done what he did. They kissed for an undeterminable amount of time and suddenly his hands were in her underwear, caressing the smouldering heat contained within the lace.

His mouth swallowed the moan that escaped her lips and his entire arm took the impact of the hard, sudden thrust of her hips towards him. He wasn't in a hurry to bring her over the edge and he didn't have to work too hard to get her worked up because she was already half way there and he had barely touched her. No, the soft, gentle touches that he was lavishing upon her were for his own pleasure really. He wanted to explore her and to brand her most intimate part like she had branded his heart. When he slipped a finger inside her slick centre, the groan that she gave echoed throughout the room. He used his other hand to shimmy the flimsy piece of material down her legs and laid her back on the bed without once breaking the unhurried rhythm he had established.

He looked down at her perfect body, squirming against his touch and heaving beneath him and he couldn't believe he had gotten so fucking lucky. He was fairly sure that he had not done anything in his life to justify being here with this amazing woman who he knew loved him as much as he loved her. If he hadn't known it before, the way she forced open her eyes and breathed his name into the electric air surrounding them would have convinced him.

"Please," she panted, her voice almost hoarse with lust. "God, just...please...you." She had lost the ability to speak in complete sentences as soon as he started touching her naked body, but now she couldn't even think in sentences. All she knew was that if he didn't replace his fingers with another part of his body soon, she would lose her mind with want.

He touched her face with the hand that wasn't exploring her centre and when their eyes connected, he removed his hand and thrust his aching penis inside of her. Their eyes widened simultaneously at the sense of completeness that the action provoked. Feeling him inside her and seeing the emotion in his eyes was indescribable and she no longer knew anything other than the fact that this was where she belonged; he was where she belonged. The emotions within her, which before she thought were colossal, multiplied tenfold and she had to grab onto him to stop herself from being overwhelmed and shattered by them.

Being inside of her was the perfect torture. He couldn't move fast enough to relieve the aching need, but he couldn't move slow enough to savour the moment of sharing everything he was with the only person that he knew would take it all and give her everything back. He felt as if every single second of their joining was going to be etched into his memory forever and yet he couldn't close his eyes for fear that he would miss any tiny movement of her face. Nothing in his life ever had – or ever would – compare to this feeling and he was pretty sure that if heaven existed, everyone there would be filled with the emotions that were consuming him; consuming both of them.

"Oh!" she cried out, reaching up to wrap her arms around him and get him closer to her. She wanted to crawl inside his skin to be nearer to him. She wanted to be a part of him forever and not just in the emotional sense. Physically, she needed to be closer. She clawed at him desperately, as if she was afraid that he would disappear if she didn't get closer.

He felt her nails digging into the skin of his back and knew exactly what she was doing because he felt it too. It was ridiculous because they literally could not be any closer than they were, but it still wasn't enough; it would never be enough. He grasped her tighter to him, their thrusts becoming shallower and faster because they couldn't bear to move further apart even for the increased force. He felt her hot tears on his shoulder, but he didn't worry about what they were for; he knew. It was too much; all too much and when they finally both tensed and let out shouts that signalled their climax, he felt tears in his own eyes. They weren't the tears of joy and nor were they the tears of sadness; they were merely a spilling over of the sensation that they could not contain.

She kissed him desperately when she finally stopped convulsing around him and got a sense of what her body was doing again. She kissed him all over his face before finally making contact with his parted lips. She could taste the salt of their tears on her tongue and revelled in it because this was them and it was just another expression of just how much they meant to each other. She kissed him until she felt him pull out of her and lay her down on the bed, comforting her by lying completely on top of her even though they were no longer connected physically.

He probably should have rolled over and just curled himself around her, but it wouldn't be enough contact for him and he knew it wouldn't be for her either. He moved a little to the side so that he wasn't cutting off her oxygen supply, but the majority of his body was still completely covering hers and the happy little sigh she breathed into his mouth told him that he had done the right thing.

"I love you," he whispered against her swollen lips, which were still moving around his own.

"There's nothing I love more than you," she told him, her voice breaking over the sentiment that she just couldn't seem to fully express. "I can't even...I don't know how..."

"I know," he told her, agreeing with what she couldn't say. "I know."

When they remembered that night in the future, they would only see flashes of the events that happened; pictures that weren't cohesive and didn't have a chronological order. They would convince themselves that everything they remembered had been heightened by their circumstances, both at the time it happened and when they were looking back. However, they would both know deep down that nothing else in their lives would ever be as real as the night that they had expressed their love through gentle touches and whispered words of tenderness. Nothing would ever make more sense than the night when their passionate need and cries of ecstasy filled every part of the souls that they had never even realised had holes before.