Title: Immersion
Rating: M - I'm not kidding about that. So don't read this if you're bothered by graphic depictions of sexual intercourse.
Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer, as though you didn't know. I'm just borrowing Bella and Edward for my own not-for-profit entertainment and they will be returned in the same condition, but possibly sore and sated.
Author's Note: This is the second installment to Immersion, which started off as a lemony one-shot, that has grown to a series of lemony one-shots. I have ideas for more, but they won't get written until I feel interested. They can stand alone though, so don't worry. I tried to make Edward in character. This fanfic doesn't belong in any particular place in the canon timeline, its just smutty goodness.
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"I'll be back," she promised, giving me a peck on the lips before scooting off the bed and out of my embrace. My gaze stayed locked to her form, watching her make her way out of the room. In this time after she wakes, she takes her "human moment," as she calls it. Although it is spent away from her, I value this time too. It is a reminder to me that her humanity endures, fragile, precious, and beautiful.
From in the other room, I can hear the bristles of her toothbrush swishing around in her mouth. Up and down, back and forth. Rinse. Her human moments are numbered. Despite my unending struggle to preserve and to cherish her human life for as long as possible, she insists on being changed after graduation. It is difficult to say that she will go through with it against my wishes, because that is not completely true. There is a large part of me that repulses me with its selfishness. I want what's best for her, for her to remain human and live her life to its fullest. I do want that, except for when I want to be with her forever and keep her by my side, which is always.
I am distracted from my constant internal dilemma by a welcome sound. It is the soft slide of fabric against skin. I can imagine her arms dragging her stretched out sleeping shirt up and over her head. Her mahogany tresses pull free from the neck hole last and swing gently against the smooth ivory skin of her back and shoulders. Perhaps she has a birth mark on her left shoulder blade. Would she let me run my hands over her, caressing her exposed skin on her neck and back? Would she allow me to press light kisses to her collar, lingering on her newly uncovered birth mark?
My hands would trail their way down to her waist, touching as much of her skin as possible along the way. My thumbs would hook into the elastic band of her pajama bottoms and cotton underwear, dragging them down her legs.
The sound of a stream of water hitting the porcelain bath tub alerted me that my imagination was lagging behind reality. Bella did not have me in the bathroom with her to distract her from her divestiture of clothing, as much as I would enjoy helping her. I could easily see her bending over the edge of the tub to adjust the knobs that controlled the temperature and the pressure of her shower. She is oblivious of how I enjoy the view she presents. It is unthinkable that the sight of her perfectly formed rear and toned legs would be anything but pure temptation. Catching a glimpse of the curve of her breast from beneath her extended arm is a wonder. It is miraculous that this vision of beauty is mine, and I plan to worship her as long as she will let me. I can feel my breaths coming more quickly now.
Standing up straight, she draws the shower curtain aside and steps over the rim of the tub into the stream of hot water. Without thinking, I join her. She squeezes a handful of strawberry scented shampoo into her palm and snaps the lid of the bottle shut, putting it off to the side. Her hands spread the cream over her hair, dark and wet under the cascade of water, creating a lather. While she works her fingers over her hair, careful to make sure it is thoroughly clean, my eyes have wondered lower, ogling her. I am enthralled by the unexpected pleasure of her pale breasts rise and fall as she moves her arms around while her fingers massage her scalp with conditioner. Her mauve nipples are nearly hypnotic as they sway and tighten as though sensing my gaze.
She tilts her head back, rinsing the product out of her hair, exposing her throat. The stream of water flows over her body in rivulets, and my eyes memorize every path. I can wait no longer seeing, but not touching, in this hot, wet room surrounded by the clinging scent of her shampoo.
I urge her to lower herself into the tub, kneeling in front of her. She smiles at me, wiping the water from her eyes. I guide her legs to bend, positioning them on either side of me on the rim of the tub. She leans back invitingly, bracing her hands on the rim as well. The peaks of her breasts are glorious points, extended in excitement. My hands reach out to cup her breasts in my palms, enjoying their fullness as I fondle them. I lean up to kiss her deeply, my tongue flicking against her lower lip, as I roll the bud of her nipple between my thumb and index finger. My head dips to her chest to pull her other nipple into my loving mouth. My unyielding lips tweak her nipple between them, gentling the pinch with a twirl of my cool tongue around her areola.
She is making quiet sounds above my head as I bat my tongue against the responsive tip to taste her mound before going lower. I kiss my way deliberately down her abdomen. The lips at the apex of her legs are swollen and slick, not least because of the water that continues to pour down on both of us. She spreads her legs infinitesimally wider for me. I can't stop myself from smirking smugly at the thought that she wants to welcome me into her. I breathe in the scent of her aroused body. Her natural scent drenched with arousal is so potent as to be almost overwhelming. My fingers part her outer lips, admiring the slim pink folds inside. One longer finger strokes up and down languorously against her fluttering lips, teasing her. Her breathing hitches gratifyingly. That same finger circles the bundle of nerves above her slit, sweeping her wetness over it again and again. Even more sensitive when wet, her clitoris quivers against the pad of my finger.
My fingers make tight, controlled movements around her vulva, grazing it. She is wailing for me now. I pinch her clitoris firmly between my thumb and wicked finger. More than ready, I position myself over her. One hand remains coaxing her tantalizing center open while I line myself up to her. The head of my cock meets the wetness of her lips, and I am left groaning as they spasm against me. My hand curls around her hip to thrust into her as I pull her to me-
"Edward?" the melodious voice of my beloved calls my name. I snap back to reality suddenly, the steam of the shower scene clearing my mind in a rush like a bucket of icy water.
"Sorry?" I swallowed thickly. If I could blush, I would maroon with the mortification of being caught immersed in such an inappropriate, but amazing fantasy.
"Where were you?" Bella asks, laughing. I struggle to control the pitch of my voice under the tension.
"J-just letting my mind wander," I reply. It wasn't even a lie. Her eyes narrow in suspicion, but I am a confident liar if nothing else. She lets it go, sparing me.
"Are you ready to go?" She has dried off, gotten dressed, and brushed her hair all while I tried to have my way with her in the dark corners of my mind.
"If you are," I answer her, getting up off the bed myself and following her downstairs to the table for her human breakfast.
End of Part 2
Reviews are welcome, especially when they come with horny plot bunnies.