Chapter Four: Parental Guidance
Boom! Thunder clashed and clanged against the house like an angry god. Lightning flashed and strobed, periodically flooding our turret bedroom with brightness. The morning rain fell in a forceful, powerful downpour, splattering against the windows with a heavy, staccato plip, plop.
Edward moaned. "Mmm, Bellaaaah." His voice was both husky and velvety in my ear.
Thunder boomed again, and I felt his arms grip my back tighter as I straddled him. I had overtaken him forcefully and needfully, wedging him against the headboard in a sitting position. We were both still fully clothed, and I could feel the heat of Edward's body begging to me through the thin layers-- desperate for skin-to-skin contact. I grasped his head firmly in my hands and tilted it back against the fabric-covered wood, pulling his hair so roughly that he grunted.
"Yes, Edward?" I asked before I attacked his neck, my lips seeking it hard and fast. I nipped at his ear.
"Ahhh," I felt his hips writhe anxiously below me, "what... what are you doing to me?"
I reached one hand to his waist and around to his backside, rocking his hips more closely into me. He hissed at the increased friction.
"What does it," thunder crashed again, "feel like I'm doing to you, Edward?"
"Unnhh, it feels like you're trying to kill me. Where did all of this naughtiness come from?" He gripped the flesh of my rear with his palms.
Well, it certainly hadn't arrived suddenly. Much like the clouds now causing this morning storm had rolled in overnight, it had accumulated slowly; it had stewed inside of me all night. After returning inside from our stint on the hammock, we had spent the night in bed, reading and cuddling. Conversation was light and infrequent, which was good, because my mind was definitely otherwise occupied. As I had gazed down at the digital book reader Edward had gifted to me that evening, I scanned the text of Pride and Prejudice without processing the words. I was thinking about Edward. And the more I thought about Edward, the more agitated I became. Agitated that now, two evenings in a row, he had given me things that I desired without asking for. Our first evening here, I had tried desperately to give something to him. But he had refused it because he didn't think it was "proper." I was tired of doing all of the receiving. Tired and agitated... very agitated.
"Do you want me to stop?" I asked lowly as I licked a line up Edward's neck.
"Ohh... god," he exhaled loudly, "no. Please don't stop, Bella."
I lifted the bottom of Edward's shirt and ran the backs of my fingers tantalizingly across his perfect stomach, momentarily dipping them slightly below the waistband of his pants. The feel of my touch on his bare skin caused him to jerk so violently that the bed shook at the same time that thunder wracked the house again.
Truth be told, at any moment my body was at risk of reacting the same as Edward's-- not only by jerking, but also exploding, attacking or... bursting into flames. I had spent the last forty-five minutes licking and teasing and touching without allowing Edward to reciprocate. I had been in the driver's seat, and from Edward's perspective, what I was doing was all an attempt to drive him crazy. What he didn't know, however, was that I had nearly driven myself crazy as well.
Frankly, I didn't know how I had made it this far. At seeing Edward's reactions-- his beautiful face twisted up into the sexiest pleas of masculine yearning, his kissable lips finding themselves in constant contact with his tongue or in the clutches of his teeth, and his hips circling and lifting off the bed, insistent to make contact with me-- I could feel the control I had tried so hard to maintain slipping further and further away.
But this wasn't arbitrary for me-- there was meaning and reason behind what I was doing here. So I took a deep breath and steeled my resolve.
"I'll keep going as long as you want me to, Edward," I was staring at him seriously, "on one condition."
"Anything," he rasped. His dark eyes pleaded with me as his hands tightened on my waist. Damn, he was beautiful. I would never tire of looking at him. Not helping.
"You tell me what to do. Every move I make must be an instruction by you. You stop giving instructions, I stop. Got it?" I raised an eyebrow sultrily.
"All... all right," said Edward. He looked conflicted, his intense desire now mixed with apprehension. "Where should I begin?"
"Just take it one step at a time, darling." I leaned in and kissed him as softly and slowly as I could. "What do you want at this moment?" God, he tasted so good. I knew what I wanted most at this moment.
"Mmm," Edward closed his eyes at the taste of the kiss, "I want to feel the bare skin of your chest."
"Then tell me what I need to do," I whispered against his lips.
Edward opened his topaz eyes fully and stared into mine. "Take off your shirt, love."
Thunder continued to rumble as Edward's lips parted and he watched me slowly unbutton my top. I let it hang only semi-open for a moment after I undid the last button, my bra barely visible to him through the now separated fabric. Ever more slowly, I reached one hand up to my shoulder and pushed away the sleeve, shrugging my shoulder very slightly and blinking sideways at Edward as I did so. I repeated the same action on the opposite sleeve and let the shirt fall.
Edward was watching me with rapt attention. His face was now still as stone except for one feature: his eyes, completely darkened and glued to my form, which danced and shone with excitement. I could feel his strong gaze on every minute movement I made. My skin now exposed, I ran one hand delicately across the flat plane of my stomach and traced my fingers up the contours of my waist... and eventually to my still-covered breasts.
Edward's sharp breath broke the silence and his stillness. He closed his eyes momentarily and swallowed as he clenched his fists. "You," said Edward in a strained voice, "are so beautiful, so exquisite, so perfect. I will never get enough. My eyes will never quench their thirst to drink in the sight of you."
Funny, I was just thinking the same thing about you. I responded to Edward's compliment by clasping his hands in mine and smiling.
"What now, my love?" I asked in hardly a whisper.
In a shaky voice, Edward softly replied, "Will you kiss me?"
It was agony not to take that request to the max, not to just rush forth and kiss Edward like I had kissed him so many times before during the throes of passion-- hard and strong and full of force. I wanted so ardently to kiss him in a way that would show him exactly how torturous the last hour had been for me.
But I didn't. I didn't because I wanted him to ask me to kiss him that way. I wanted Edward to reach down deep inside of himself and find something there: me. Because whether he believed it or not, I already lived deep inside of Edward. And because I lived deep inside of him, he could ask anything of me just as easily as he could ask it of himself. I had been wishing, hoping, praying he would realize this, or that I could somehow convince him. I wanted him to know that his heart was my heart; his life was my life; everything that I am, he is. Just as I had vowed to him on our wedding day. And because of that, nothing he could ever want could be selfish, because I was already waiting to give it to him. I wanted him to ask me.
Slowly, as slowly as I could physically manage, I lowered my face to Edward's. The moment our lips touched, thunder resounded again and the room hummed with electricity. I was totally overtaken now. The thickness of the electric charge-- not just from the storm but also the magnanimity of our love embodied in this meeting of our lips-- was palpable and inescapably overpowering. The soft noises our lips made as they sought and clasped one another layered over the electric hum like poetry. More than words could ever express, our bodies told each other what we felt, in the most perfect and articulate way.
I hoped my body's language had conveyed to Edward everything I had been trying so desperately to impart with my words.
Edward's lips migrated from my mouth to my neck, and his hands began moving at a slightly faster pace, exploring my hair or smoothing long, soothing strokes down my back and arms. Our lips now apart, our breathing was liberated to be heavier and more frequent.
"Bella..." His voice was like music.
I tried to push through the pleasure I was feeling at Edward's lips on my neck to answer him. All I managed was a soft, "Unnhh?" as I threw my head back at the sensation of his hands on my body.
"Bella... I want..."
My ears perked up immediately. Was Edward about to tell me he wanted something? "Yes, Edward? Tell me what you want. Please."
"Oh god, Bella... so many things I want. It just doesn't feel right to ask them of you."
I grasped Edward's face in my hands and stared into him. "I promise you, Edward. Anything you could ask of me, I have already thought of as something I want to give to you myself. And there is nothing wrong about that."
And before Edward could utter his protestations of disbelief, it hit me. Of course! It was so simple. I couldn't believe I hadn't thought of it before.
"Edward," I said seriously. Using his eyes as steady ground, I made my full effort to still my mind. It was difficult-- I had been panting and about to crack open like the thunder clouds outside just a moment before, and I still wasn't very good at this, which was why I didn't do it very often. But somehow, I managed it. I allowed the rubber band inside my head to bend and stretch to grant Edward entrance.
At witnessing my provocative mental imagery, Edward was catapulted into action. Just as more thunder boomed, he lunged for me, pulling me roughly and fully on top of him so that we were completely prostrate on the bed now. I was done for; he had caught me so off guard that I had no hope of chastising him for breaking the rules. I succumbed to the passion I had been holding inside for so long, and the rubber band snapped back into place.
Frantically and furiously, our bodies attempted hasty contact at every available point. I felt Edward's firm but soft mouth purse and mold around my lips; felt his solid, strong limbs encase and protect mine; felt our pelvises and our chests reach and press and weld to each other, all the while wanting more, more, more. And of course, our hands. Our hands grabbed and groped and sought each other at every opportunity. I felt a small tug and realized Edward had snapped my bra and discarded it. At this rate, our clothes would cease to exist and it would all be over in about two seconds.
Lightning flashed. I don't know how I was able to do it, but I did. I stopped. I withdrew my lips and laid my hands onto his chest, pushing up and away from his face. He looked confused, his eyebrows wrinkling into a puzzled expression laced first and foremost with concern.
"Are you all right, love? Did I do something to upset you?" Edward said seriously through heavy breaths, his hands placed carefully and lightly now on my face. Of course he would ask that. His first thought was always that he had done something wrong, always questioning if he were at fault for causing me discomfort. I made a silent vow to break him of that.
"Of course not, Edward," I replied, equally as breathlessly. I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes. "Remember? You can't hurt me anymore." I flexed a bicep and threw him a teasing smile.
Edward didn't return my smile. He sunk his head back onto the bed and exhaled. "That's not exactly what I meant, Bella. I know I can't hurt you physically now," his voice lowered and trailed off, "thank god..."
He quickly recovered from the distraction of his thoughts. "But it doesn't mean I can just have my way with you, any time I please. It doesn't mean I can stop respecting you. I don't want to push you into anything you're uncomfortable with."
I sighed sharply and lowered my forehead to his. "Edward, I would hope that little glimpse into my mind you got just now would tell you something. I would hope it would tell you that there is nothing, and I do mean nothing," I chuckled, "I am uncomfortable doing with you."
Edward looked slightly embarrassed for a moment. He looked to the side as his tousled hair fell against the bed in wayward locks. "Well," he said quietly, a hint of a grin creeping to his face, "um, yes... I will admit that was rather... revelatory." Now the grin had erupted full force and he was looking at me straight on.
I grinned back and chuckled a little. "See?" I said. "I want these things with you, Edward. Not simply because I think you want them. But because I want to give them to you."
I lowered my head again and hesitated my lips only millimeters away from his for several moments. We savored the electricity between us until I finally spoke in a whisper. "You don't even have to ask me."
Edward's lips lightly grazed mine. "You really love me, don't you?" he whispered back.
"More than you'll ever know," I replied. "So I hope you'll let me try to show you how much."
"I think that can be arranged." He kissed me softly again. "I'm just going to need some time, Bella, to work up to some of your more... exotic expressions of love." His eyes fluttered closed for a moment and his jaw tightened.
I could tell which of my mental images he was picturing. His eyes opened, and the silhouettes of his thoughts seemed to dance across them. "And when I say that, Bella," he whispered, his voice laced with desire, "I don't mean I need to work up to the idea of enjoying them. Believe me when I tell you I desire you in every way possible. And I will have you in every way possible... one day."
I did believe him. I was past the days of wondering if Edward's holding back meant he didn't want me in the ways that I wanted him. The sealing together of our fates had bolstered my confidence in myself and in my understanding of his devotion to me. It felt good. Better than good-- it felt perfect. Strong. Indestructible and solid.
And that meant I could be patient.
I kissed him. "Then it's a good thing time is on our side."
A genuine smile consumed Edward's face, bringing it to its maximum beauty and brilliancy. "Yes," he agreed, "it's a very good thing."
I smiled back hugely, mostly because I simply couldn't help it; it was an involuntary bodily response to Edward's happiness. "Well," I said seductively, "what do you say we start working up to eternity with some of the more tame images you just witnessed?"
Edward growled as thunder simultaneously rolled outside. There was no question as to which sound was the more powerful.
****
The rain, thunder and lightning had carried on, relentless, all day. And through all of it, Edward and I had carried on with what we had started in the bedroom that morning. It wasn't so much that going outside in the rain would have bothered us-- vampires weren't squeamish about things like that the way humans were, one thing I think Edward had grown to appreciate about me since my change-- but it was more that there was simply nothing we would have rather done all day than make love. So that was what we did, newlywed-style. We didn't even need a Do Not Disturb sign for the door, another thing that made me love Brownings' Abode, beside the facts that it was beautiful and I was there with Edward, all the more.
I had lain in Edward's arms for the past thirty minutes, enjoying the feel of his chest against my cheek. Edward kissed the top of my head and made to leave the bed, uncovering his muscular long legs from the sheet.
"Where're you going?" I asked in a voice that started lazily and concluded with a pout. Any time Edward slipped away from my touch was reason for despair, but especially today, when I hadn't removed my body from his for the past eight hours.
I watched longingly as Edward pulled on a pair of boxers and ruffled his hands through his hair. "I'm sorry, love," he smiled at me ruefully, "but there's one errand I need to run, and today is the perfect day for it."
I watched him walk into the closet and emerge again wearing a pair of jeans and a green t-shirt that did amazing things for his eyes.
"Errands?" I asked poutily. "Since when does vacation include errands? Come back to bed right now." I folded my arms across the front of my chest and dropped them into it with a childish jerk.
Edward's laughter lit up his face into an expression that showed his amusement at my juvenile behavior.
"It won't take long, love," he said as he bent over the bed and kissed my head again. "It's something I promised Carlisle I would do while we were here. I need to go see the caretaker down the mountain and give him a few instructions. Since it's rainy today, it's a good day for me to be seen-- no chance of any unwanted attention from my gleaming in the sunlight."
He flashed a grin that showed all of his teeth. Too late for that, I thought. You gleam with or without light from the sun.
"Well, okay..." I said in a small voice. "But hurry. How long do you think you'll be?"
"Probably no more than an hour. It depends on whether he's home or not. I might have to wait around." He brushed his hand across my cheek. "But I'll make it up to you when I return. Promise." His sweet breath rolled over me in waves as he whispered.
Please, please, please, please, please hurry. "Miss you already."
"I'll count the seconds," he replied, "and give you a kiss for every one when I come back." He kissed me once... twice... three times, and exited the room.
I let out a heavy sigh and fell back onto the bed, bringing the sheet up over my head. What in the world would I do with myself for a whole hour? Edward had always told me my patience was supposed to have improved since my change, but that just didn't seem to be happening, at least not where he was concerned. Time always seemed to fly by faster when he was near and even slower when he was away. It was almost worse than when I had been human.
I contemplated reading, but I just wasn't in the mood. Reading was an activity I enjoyed doing with Edward now. There was something about the companionship of the silence that soothed me and created a comforting rhythm to the words and my suspension of disbelief. Reading by myself now would have felt terribly lonely.
Well, I guess I could put some clothes on, I thought. I was hoping Edward and I would continue the day's activities upon his return, but something about the idea of still being in bed and undressed after he had been so productive made me feel like a bum.
I groaned and forced myself into the closet.
After I had dressed, I stood in the room and looked around, basically twiddling my thumbs and trying to think of something to do. Would eternity be like this for me? Constantly looking for stimulation and ways to fill the inactive voids? If so, it was definitely a good thing that I was spending eternity with Edward. This could get awfully tedious without him.
And then something about that thought made me wince: this was what every second of Edward's life had been like for him before me. I suddenly felt very spoiled and selfish. Edward had spent over a century feeling just like this, and I was complaining about one measly hour.
I really needed to whip my perspective into shape.
Determined to prove to myself that I was actually still capable of entertaining myself without Edward, I decided to peruse the house. Other than the "tour" Edward had given me upon our first arrival, I hadn't had much of a chance to actually look at the house more than cursorily. And something about the idea of doing that on my own, where I would be free to let my thoughts wander, was appealing to me.
As I made my way down the winding staircase and into the shiny-floored ballroom, I started thinking about Brownings' Abode and what it meant to Carlisle and Esme. You could tell a lot about people by their home. Or in Carlisle and Esme's case, their homes. I chuckled to myself.
I could tell Brownings' Abode was certainly a special one to them. It represented a time in their lives when they felt newness and the exciting start of eternity together, much like Edward and I were feeling now. I knew Edward felt guilty-- exceedingly more guilty than he needed to-- that we didn't have a special place to symbolize the start of our life together like this. But I didn't mind. And not just because I was adamantly opposed to the idea of Edward spending atrocious amounts of money. But because I was happy to be here and sharing in something that was clearly special to Carlisle and Esme. It made me feel closer to them, in a way. Being here, in their home that represented such an important landmark in their lives, it almost felt like they were near me.
I smiled at the thought of that as I meandered my way through the main living area, past the bookshelves and the giant glass windows. As I gazed out at the view Edward and I had shared at sunset a few evenings ago, I couldn't help but feel my heart swell. Carlisle and Esme weren't just my in-laws. They weren't just two of my favorite people in the whole world. They were my parents, just as they were Edward's.
As much as I had always loved Charlie and Renee-- as much as they had always been my parents, my providers and my origin-- they just couldn't give me what Carlisle and Esme did now: a paragon of lasting and eternal love.
And in Edward's and my case, that was not only pertinent and highly meaningful, but it was also valuable. We were going to need Carlisle and Esme. We were going to need them to guide us, to love us, to help us through our mistakes and share with us in our triumphs as we navigated this new life together. They were necessary and valuable. And it also helped that I just liked them so darn much.
I turned and walked to the other side of the living area, toward the staircase to the turret that we hadn't explored because Edward had said it was only used for storage. When I opened the door and looked up the winding staircase-- identical to the one leading to our bedroom-- an overwhelming sense of curiosity overcame me. I wasn't exactly sure why, knowing all that was probably up there were dusty old boxes full of clothes, recreation equipment and art supplies, but I yearned to walk up these stairs. And I felt a little bit guilty about it. Would Edward, or more importantly, Esme and Carlisle, consider it snooping if I took one little peek? Edward certainly hadn't asked me not to go into this area, but I suddenly felt like Belle from Beauty and the Beast-- forbidden to enter the secret wing of the mansion, but impossible to resist it.
I warily placed one foot on the first step. Once I had made that move, I figured I was committed and flew up the staircase at full vampire speed.
It looked about like I had expected. It was dark, quiet and dusty from misuse, yet still surprisingly comfortable even for a storage space (it was a Cullen storage space, after all). A few storage boxes were stacked against the walls, but there wasn't a whole lot up here other than an old love seat. I walked to the windows, just like the ones in our bedroom, and looked through them to see the view of the rain falling outside from this part of the house. I swiped my fingers through the dust on the sill and wiped them off on my shorts.
I turned to walk back toward the door. I felt a little silly that I had felt so compelled to come up here to find something-- I don't know what-- that I had some idea would be so much more intriguing than what it really was or was meant to be: a storage area. Just a boring old storage area. I shrugged my shoulders and laughed at myself for my romantic whim, ready to walk back down the stairs. I guessed I had been trying too hard to entertain myself while Edward was away.
And then something on the floor caught my eye. It was inconspicuous enough, just some cream colored writing paper folded into a rectangle. But it was the beautiful handwriting that stood out. It was like calligraphy that one would see on a sixteenth century royal edict. It was perfect, elegant and etched in the darkest black ink.
I bent down to pick it up, and the guilt I had felt at the foot of the stairs came surging back. To my eternal love-, the front of the rectangle read. Was this what I thought it was? I fingered the creamy paper, now soft and pliable as leather after many years, and tried to decide what to do. I could put it back on the floor where I found it, walk to the door and down the stairs and never think another thought about it. But if I opened it now, there was no turning back. I would be an official snooper.
I decided one look wouldn't hurt. I would read it, put it back where I found it and leave the room. It was just one letter. What was the harm in that?
I took a breath and unfolded the flimsy paper. The writing on the inside was just as beautiful, every letter identical in size and perfect, and every line perfectly spaced. When I had gotten over the beauty of the script, I read.
My own Belovèd, who hast lifted me
From this drear flat of earth where I was thrown,
And, in betwixt the languid ringlets, blown
A life-breath, till the forehead hopefully
Shines out again, as all the angels see,
Before thy saving kiss! My own, my own,
Who camest to me when the world was gone,
And I who looked for only God, found thee!
I find thee; I am safe, and strong, and glad.
As one who stands in dewless asphodel,
Looks backward on the tedious time he had
In the upper life,---so I, with bosom-swell,
Make witness, here, between the good and bad,
That Love, as strong as Death, retrieves as well.
-E.B. Browning
My Beloved C--
Thou hast indeed lifted me from whence I was thrown and camest to me when the world was gone, with the life-breath of thy saving "kiss." But I'm afraid this poem does not do you justice-- our love is much, much stronger than death.
Eternally yours,
E
A love note. A love note from Esme to Carlisle! Okay, now I really did feel like a snooper. I felt like I had intruded on something intimate. But this was so beautiful, so pure, so... Esme. I smiled as I pondered the depth of love held within that tiny woman. It seemed bottomless. I wondered how Edward would feel if I wrote him a love letter. Would he appreciate it or, coming from me, would he laugh? This was definitely more of an Esme thing to do than a Bella one.
I decided I had intruded enough and made the decision to leave. Besides, the hour was almost up and Edward would be back at any moment.
I held the letter for a moment, trying to decide how best to leave it. I hesitated to place it back on the floor because that felt unhelpful. Surely this belonged somewhere in one of these boxes? It seemed a shame to risk it getting lost.
I opened the lid on the nearest one and nearly gasped. There were hundreds, possibly thousands, of letters just like these, piled haphazardly into the box. While there were many more just like this one on creamy paper, some were on a red-tinted stationery, with slightly different, more masculine, handwriting. Carlisle. I smiled, picturing Carlisle and Esme lovingly writing these to one another. It was just like something out of one of my novels.
Something in the back corner of the box stood out in contrast to all of the letters. It was dark and ratty, stained with the passage of time. A book. A very old book.
I picked it up gingerly and read the title. Sonnets from the Portuguese by E.B. Browning. I flipped over the cover and almost gasped again. The first page bore an inscription in messy cursive.
To C.C.--
For your friendship, your companionship, and your life, a million thanks. I shall always remember you in Italia.
E.B.B.
So... Carlisle had known Elizabeth Barrett Browning. Wow. But not all that surprising, I supposed.
I began flipping through the book. The sonnets called to me from the pages. I had read a few of Browning's poems, but never the whole collection, and suddenly I was desperate to sit down on the love seat and read it from start to finish. This was a book I had often heard described as a "celebration of love." It was an anthology of the first year of marriage between Elizabeth and her husband, Robert Browning.
The idea of that seemed extremely relevant and important. But there was just no time. Edward would be here any second; I could feel his approach.
I made the decision in an instant. I would take the book with me and sneak glimpses at it if Edward decided to go on any more "errands." Before we left Brownings' Abode, I would be sure to return it to this box.
I closed the lid on the box, sprinted down the stairs and through the house to our turret, placed the book in the vanity drawer, and had just enough time to position myself into a casual pose on the bed with my digital book reader before Edward strolled through the door.
He was dripping wet from the rain, his hair clumped in large dark tendrils against his face and his green t-shirt plastered against his muscular chest. His eyes lit up when he saw me.
I made no move to go to him, preferring to tease him by acting casual. "Back so soon?" I asked airily, peeking one eye up from my book reader.
"Mmm hmm," said Edward, standing his ground and trying to conceal a smile at my feigned nonchalance.
I smirked at him as he dripped onto the floor. "You know, they do make these things called umbrellas, Edward," I teased. "They're not just helpful for humans."
"I was always under the impression that you liked me wet," he replied, still struggling to hide his grin.
I was in front of him in an instant, my hands gripping his soaked hair and feeling the dampness of his shirt against my body.
"Only when I'm wet with you," I said against his lips.
"Mmm, then you should let me work on that," he replied, carrying me to the bed.
And we ended the day just as we had started it. The rain and thunder raged on as I felt the life-breath of my beloved's saving kiss.
