Disclaimer: I do not own the Twilight series, nor any of the characters created by Stephenie Meyer. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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this is going to be one of your favorite chapters...

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Previously:

He was entirely nude, his body inches from my face. I was stunned by the beauty of his body, unable to believe, even after all we'd been through, and that he was really all mine. I wanted to kiss him, intimately. Though I had no idea if he'd enjoy that, I was certain he'd never allow it. All I could do was embrace him, my face against his hip, arms around his thighs. I could feel his powerful erection pressed tight against my neck, and all I'd have had to do was turn my head. I felt it twitch against my throat, and heard him gasp. I slowly stood, and pressed myself against him for what felt like an eternity. I waited until the pounding in my chest calmed, until I felt his body relax, and then I tried to memorize the feeling of his body against mine, only a thin film of fabric between us. Finally, I whispered "I couldn't have dreamed you more perfect. We've come quite a long way, to be standing here like this, haven't we?"


"Yes, we have, love." His voice was soft, thoughtful.

"All those months, lying beside me every night, keeping your hands to yourself. Now that I understand the urge you were fighting against, I'm amazed you were able to come back night after night."

He kissed me softly, his lips lingering on my cheek, my chin. "I truly hate that you have that image in your head, but I'm glad it finally gives you some perspective regarding the – ungh - effort it takes for me to do this. Bella, please."

I placed tiny wet kisses all over his chest as he spoke, trailing my hands down his back, unable to resist the desire to palm his perfect butt cheeks with both hands. His voice broke when I squeezed them. It made me giggle.

"This is much easier when we're both fully clothed, and when you let me 'drive.' Not knowing what you're thinking about doing next is very, um, unnerving." He pushed me a few inches back, kissing my forehead. "All the things you want us to do, Bella, I want them all, too. But just wanting them doesn't make it right, or safe. I'm not ready for more tonight. You need to rest."

"Lay down with me, just like this – please?" I didn't want him to dress; I wanted to wake up to this, his naked body in my bed. I didn't want this night to end. I knew I was pushing the bounds of his self control and his damnable moral fiber, but he knew we still had work to do before the wedding. Tonight was proof of that.

"For a while, alright. Behave."

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~*~*~*~*~

The amount of progress we'd made the night of the bridal shower was beyond what I'd ever expected could happen between us in one night. He told me the next morning that his fears held him back, but it was getting easier now that he knew what sensations to actually expect, and how his body would react to them.

"Fear of the unknown is a powerful deterrent to progress," he'd told me.

My reply caught him off guard. "As soon as you trust yourself, you will know how to live."

"Ahh, finally realizing you're selling your soul to the devil, little Faust?"

"Would you rather I quoted Eleanor Roosevelt? 'You must do the things you think you cannot do.' Or how about Frank Herbert? 'Fear is the mind-killer.' Or maybe…"

"Enough. I get it. Did you really just quote Dune and a First Lady in the same sentence?"

"Get over it. Was yours a Cullen Original?"

"Absolutely."

"Wow. It's pretty messed up, you realize that don't you?"

"It was less of a life philosophy and more of a statement of fact. I mean, don't you think it's healthy to hold back your impulses if they might get someone killed? I don't generally think of myself as a fearful person, but where you are concerned, I'm not willing to take any chances."

"Don't you think it's ridiculous to keep doubting yourself, given all we've been through? How far we've come?"

"After last night, yes. I think it is ridiculous. I know now that no matter what vampire nature inhabits my body, my mind and my will is still human. There was a moment there, last night, when I kissed your belly, that I actually felt alone with you, that the part of me that wanted your blood stood aside. It was just you, and me. It's stronger than I knew, the human part. It's still there, and I'm learning how to listen to it, to trust it. That one part of me that becoming a vampire didn't kill will always be there. The problem resides in being able to focus on just that. I can't tell you how fine the line is between giving in to the human pleasure, and giving in to the bloodlust. It's like a cascade of desire, trust, control, courage, doubt, weakness, it all tumbles together. I struggle to trust myself, trust the sanctity of what we have between us, honor my desire for you. When I can do that consistently, everything we want will be possible. When I am fearful, the monster sees the chink in my armor and rages back , and all the human pleasure and good intentions in the world couldn't prevent that part of me from hurting you. As long as you're human, and fragile, we'll always have to be very cautious. I think we did pretty well last night, but it's not a victory we can ever take for granted. I'm encouraged, though. I've never felt this strong before, this confident about my control. But we still have work to do."

"Two steps forward, one step back?" I was sad to think we'd have to start from scratch again, after last night.

"Not necessarily. I'm still naked, aren't I?" He flashed my favorite crooked smile.

"Mmmm. Yes, indeed you are." I traced his body with the back of my fingers, from his hips, across his belly and up to his chest, where I leaned in to kiss over his silent heart.

"Don't get carried away. It's almost light, and Charlie's waking up." He kissed me softly, and slowly got out of my bed, scanning the room for his clothes. "I'll call you in a little while. Love you." He gave me a quick peck on the forehead before he disappeared out my window.

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~*~*~*~*~

We spent that day at his house, with Alice fussing over wedding details, as usual, and Edward just content to be near me. We walked by the river, listened to music in his room, and did absolutely nothing. All day. It was perfect. He was like air to me. Nothing mattered but us, together.

Charlie was spending the weekend fishing with Billy, and I'd told him I would rather spend the night with Alice than be alone. I think he knew my sleepovers included more time with Edward than Alice, but given that the wedding was only five weeks away, I think he chose to accept it rather than risk an ugly confrontation. Jasper and Alice were the only ones at home that night, the others having left to hunt. While I still had misgivings about having supersensitive ears in the house while Edward and I 'practiced,' I was grateful that Emmett's ears weren't among them.

We'd spent the evening quietly, watching an old movie, and just being. When I began to yawn, Edward took my hand and walked us to his room. Alice and Jasper quietly wished us goodnight as we ascended the stairs.

I took a quick shower in Edward's bathroom while he fluffed pillows. I'd decided to skip the blue satin negligee he'd become so fond of, and jumped into the middle of his enormous bed wearing my favorite flannel pants and a tank top. He puttered in the bathroom for a moment or two and came out wearing almost identical flannel pants and my favorite smile.

"I put a nightlight in the bathroom so you don't trip in the middle of the night."

"Well aren't you just a flannel-y gentleman!"

"I see why you like these. They're quite nice."

"And warm, too."

"Do you mind if we leave the windows open for a while? I love to listen to the river, and the owls."

"Good thing we've got flannel, huh?"

He just smiled and turned off the bedside lamp. He lay down facing me, his hands tucked under his cheek like a child. I leaned back so that I could see more of him than just his beautiful face. He smiled at me as my eyes devoured his body.

"If it weren't for your brown eyes, I'd swear you were a thirsty vampire."

"I feel like one, when I look at you." I loved him absolutely, but the beauty of his body was like being given an unexpected, extravagant gift.

"I'm glad you like what you see. It's a relief."

"Are you serious?"

"Yes, I'm perfectly serious. I was afraid that after all the anticipation you'd find me unappealing."

"The only thing about you I find unappealing is your need to hold back, but I understand it."

He kissed me, soft and slow. "There are times when I don't hold back. When I'm alone, I don't have to..."

"When you're alone?" He's mentioned this before. Does he mean ALONE alone?

"It helps me, to be close to you like this, if I've uh, spent some time alone. Jasper convinced me a few weeks ago that I had to do something about my anxiety level or he and Alice would have to find somewhere else to live. It was apparently driving him nuts."

That's exactly what he meant! "You talked about that with Jasper?"

"We don't have many secrets from each other, Bella. Between our individual gifts, and all our heightened senses, there isn't much that goes unnoticed. While we all try to respect each others' privacy as best we can, I understood his need to discuss it with me. It wasn't a terribly enjoyable conversation, but I'm glad we had it."

"Had you never done that, before me?" Oh lord, did I really need that visual?

"There was never a need to. I mean, I knew the equipment functioned properly, but there was never a situation that demanded my attention, so to speak, before you. The worst times are when, as odd man out in a house full of couples, everyone is feeling amorous at the same time. With my abilities, it can be very hard to ignore, if you'll pardon the crass pun. It's a good thing I don't mind hunting by myself, and that your bedroom window responded so well to grease." He laughed at himself, probably remembering the first time he'd snuck into my room to watch me sleep.

"I guess I never thought – I mean, I thought all males did that, all the time." Ick. Mike Newton.

"Maybe not all the time, but I guess most do. It just never appealed to me; it always felt sort of empty."

"Yes. I know exactly…" oops. Crap. I didn't particularly want him to think about me and my Pink friend.

"You know what exactly? Oh – never mind. I don't think I want to know any more about that."

"Wait just a minute. I decided a while back that if you couldn't touch me, at least I can touch myself. I don't think there's anything wrong with that." How dare he imply he could toss one off and I couldn't?

"I'm sorry, Bella. I never meant to imply there was anything wrong with, with your body, with you…"

"What? Masturbating?"

He closed his eyes and sighed. "Yes. I hate that word."

You're the one that brought it up, big guy. "It's just a word, a rather clinical word, in fact. I've heard worse."

"Me too. Usually in locker rooms."

"Edward."

"Bella." Defensive, already?

"When was the last time you touched yourself, like that?"

"Bella. Seriously?"

He can give me an orgasm with his hand, but he can't talk about it? We've got to work on that. I kissed him on the lips, feather light. "Yes."

"Fine. This morning, after I left your house."

Wow. I kissed him again, harder. "What did it feel like?"

"Bella. It felt like my hand. What are you – "

I kissed him again before he could bunch himself up any tighter, tracing his lower lip with my tongue. "Edward." I was breathing harder now, trying to keep my hands to myself, whispering into his ear. "Tell me what it feels like."

"I don't know, Bella." I could hear annoyance in his tone, almost embarrassment. He stopped and closed his eyes, as if carefully considering his next words. When he began again, he was whispering. "It's impossible – it feels indescribably good, euphoric, and yet I always end up feeling empty, disappointed. Alone."

"Me too. I think that's because we are alone, and we hide while we do it." I pressed my forehead to his, our noses touching.

"Do you – often?"

I certainly didn't expect that question, but I guess I should have. "Sometimes. It's not something I feel like I'm very good at. I've never made myself feel like you made me feel, last night."

"Really?"

I couldn't quite identify all the emotions he hid behind that one word – surprise, disbelief, sadness? "Yeah." It makes me sad, too.

We lay there silently, our eyes closed, for several long minutes. I know we were both thinking about what we'd just been discussing. I certainly was, and I can't imagine he was thinking about anything else. I could hear the river rushing outside the open window, owls calling to each other across great distance.

"I love you, Bella."

I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him, wondering how long the kiss would last. He surprised me when he pulled me closer, his hand cold and firm on the small of my back, crushing us together. I wanted to wrap my leg around his waist and pull him into me. His hand trailed across my flannel covered butt to my hip, and pushed me slightly away. I moaned into his mouth, "nooo," as he leaned back from me. Not so soon!

"I'm feeling particularly bold, and I want to show you something, alright?"

BOLD? He had a look on his face that reminded me of the night before, when he'd had his hand on me. He looked exultant, confident. Don't screw this up, Bella. Let him lead.

"Alright." I could tell he was aroused, but had no idea what he had in mind.

"Take off your pants."

Um. Okay.

He pushed the comforter aside as I shimmied out of them, and smiled when he saw I'd gone commando after my shower. His reaction startled me. He was still perfectly composed. When I started to shiver, he got up from the bed and closed the windows. He came back to the bed and pressed himself along side me, his obvious arousal pressing into my hip. "Give me your hand, Bella." He reached up to my shoulder and trailed his hand towards my elbow, pulling my hand to his face, kissing my palm. He flattened his hand against the back of mine, our fingers now entwined. He pulled my hand from his face, and brought it between our bellies. "Breathe," he said, as he pressed our hands flat against my mound and held them there.

"Can you feel that, Bella? The heat?"

"Yes." God, I was like a steam radiator in an old house.

"Just think about it for a minute, think about what's under your hand, what that heat feels like."

"Edward I want – " I want everything, now, here, no more waiting, no more practicing.

"I know, me too. Just breathe, and let me do this, okay?"

"Okay." Let him lead.

He pressed his face into my hair, whispering in my ear, his voice smoky velvet. "Now don't think about anything else, don't speak, I want you to close your eyes and feel. Just let your body react how it wants to." He was like a different Edward, comfortable with our bodies, in command of the situation. I was completely seduced by it.

He wove our fingers through the patch of hair on my mound, tugging at it, pressing the butt of my hand hard against the underlying bone. My back arched, and my hips rocked back into the bed and then up, against our hands. I couldn't get my legs far enough apart.

I inhaled his name.

"Shhh."

He slowly rotated our hands and slid our middle fingers gently between my folds, but no farther. My hips thrust up off the bed involuntarily, but he kept our hands in place until my body settled back to the bed. He dipped us into the wetness gathering just beyond the tip of our fingers, entering me only an inch at most, and then redistributing the moisture from our fingers to all the skin nearby. The butt of my hand was the pivot point as our hands rocked forwards and back, and I realized the pressure of our hands at that spot was rapidly becoming my focus.

"Can you feel that?" He whispered, grinding our palms over the new center of my universe. He smiled as he kissed me.

"Unhgh, yeah." Oh god yeah, I feel that. Dracula himself could break down the door and I wouldn't care. Just. Don't. Stop.

"Put your finger here, at the top, feel that ridge, like a rope, under the skin? Press. Yeah, right there. Follow it down, tell me what you feel." The deep richness of his voice went straight to my core.

"I don't, it feels, what, ahhh -" My hand faltered as I struggled to find words.

"Never mind talking, that wasn't fair. Just keep moving your finger, in any way that feels good, and see if you can find the bottom end of the rope." I looked into his eyes, and he was smiling even broader now.

I knew from basic anatomy that this was my clitoris, but it had never felt like this, I'd never bothered to try this hard before.

His hand ghosted over mine as I wiggled my finger on top of the rope experimentally, my hips rocking forward and back, making my finger move vertically over the rope as well. I discovered that the left side of it felt better than the right, so I focused on that. The harder I pressed, the better it felt. A bolt of electricity shot through my entire lower body all the way to my toes when I finally hit the end of the rope. His mouth covered mine before I could cry out.

"Don't stop – you're not there yet. Do that again, see if you can do that again." He whispered into my ear, his hand now mimicking the movements I'd just made.

I took a deep breath, and found the spot again. It was a bump, a nub about the size of a pencil eraser, maybe smaller. The surface of it was oversensitive to a light touch, but firm pressure was intoxicating. I rubbed over it, then back up the rope and down again to rub it more. I felt heat rolling off my body in waves, the muscles in my legs trembling. I strained to get my legs farther apart, to find something to brace against, my hips beginning to gyrate, wildly searching for contact with anything, my core quivering, clenching like a fist. Edward pressed his hand firmly down onto mine to hold it still, and flicked his middle finger over my clit at the perfect speed and pressure I had been working towards. He kissed me again, stifling my moans as the rest of the world melted away, leaving only our intertwined hands and the spot where they touched my body.

He was smiling at me, his eyes soft, warm. All I could do was blink, and stare at him, until my chest stopped pounding and the throb in my groin subsided. "Holy shit" was all I could manage to say between panting breaths.

"Now, tell me what that felt like."

"You're kidding, right? Right. I get it."

"Not having the same equipment as you, I can't say if it's exactly the same, but I can assure you mine are just as indescribable."

I tried for a moment to imagine what it would be like to feel that from a man's perspective, but his wet hand was making small circles low on my belly.

"That wasn't the same as what you did before, the feeling it gave me." Can we do it again? Right now?

"No, it wasn't. Women have all sorts of orgasms, big, little, long, short, intense, mellow. It could take us years to discover all of yours."

"Wow." I let that gem of information sink in, then it dawned on me. "What about yours?"

"I think men's orgasms are fairly uniform for the most part, but it's not something any sane man would ever get tired of. Ever."

"What about now?" Now look who's feeling particularly bold, Cullen. I've got a beast in me, too.

His eyes were alive with light, a new, more devilish grin on his lips. "I think I'm ready to try, if you are."

"Really?" Oh shit, what have I gotten myself into?

"Really." He brought our hands, wet from my body, up to his face and licked my finger. "You taste even better than you smell."

It was the single most erotic thing I'd ever seen. Who are you and what have you done with my terrified boyfriend? Wait, who cares. As long as you gagged him when you left him behind.

He was out of his flannels before I knew it, laying beside me again in an instant. He snuggled in close to me again, kissing my eyes, my hair, my neck, his erection lying on my thigh. I'd never touched him like this before, and had no idea what to expect. He shuddered when I lightly caressed him with the back of my hand. He felt unbelievably alive, hard, silky, ropy with veins, the only part of his body that seemed to have a pulse.

"How does that work, I mean, with no heartbeat?" Who just said that?

"Later, little scientist."

I suppressed a giggle.

I ran my thumb across the end, and couldn't find adequate words to describe what it felt like – slick from drops of his fluid, firm, but soft, like ripe apricots. "Careful! That kinda tickles – "

"Oh god, Edward." I could feel my own climax building again, just from touching him.

"Shhhh." Like before, his hand ghosted over mine.

"Wait, Bella. Touch yourself again – get your hand really wet for me."

I put my hand back against my body and had to focus on the task at hand, rather than trying to give myself a repeat performance.

"Yeah, that's it. Hold me here, near the top of the shaft, but below this ridge. Yes, right there. Be gentle, but firm. Keep the top of your hand a bit more loose, like this, as you - yes. Longer strokes, all the way to the top, then back. Yeah. Steady, not too fast. God, yes, Bella. Just like that. Your hands are so warm."

There was something so symbolically vulnerable in him placing his manhood, literally, into my hands. It was the most intensely intimate thing I'd ever done, to hold him like that, for him to show me how. He kissed me tenderly, sucking at my lips, and rested his forehead against mine as he focused on what I was doing. I varied my hand speed and position slightly every few strokes, twisting a bit, lightly closing my thumb and forefinger over the head at the top of my stroke, imagining that's what it would feel like to him if he were inside me. Everything I did was rewarded with small sounds I'd never heard him make before, tiny moans, halting gasps, indecipherable words that served to convey his pleasure and encouraged me to continue. I could feel him pulsing in my hand when I held a sustained pace, but unfortunately my bicep began to ache sooner than I would have thought.

"Edward – I - my arm – "

"Here – put your hand over mine."

It was almost too much to watch him, to see the way he touched himself, to share that with him and know he was thinking of me as he did it. I imagined feeling him inside me, moving the way he was now, imagined my body surrounding him in place of his hand. I could feel his whole body tensing, every muscle tightening. His mischievous smile was replaced by a sort of lost look, his eyes softly closed.

"Bella, I'm – aaah, God, Bella."

He buried his face in my neck and pulled me against him roughly, pushing his hips against me so hard I would have fallen out of the bed if it weren't for his arms tight around me. He thrust again, and came between our bellies, the cold trickle of his fluid pebbling my skin like a melting ice cube on a hot day.

He trembled for just a moment longer, and then his entire body seemed to collapse into a soft lump in my arms. I'd never seen him so at peace, so tranquil, so relaxed. He stayed that way for several long minutes before he kissed me and smiled, cupping my cheek in his hand.

"I was wrong. They aren't all the same."

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I'm sorry, what did you say? I couldn't hear you over the cold shower.

**Reviews are better than ripe apricots.**