Naked News

It would not be a romantic wedding day without some insights from the bride-to-be...so this is written from Bella's perspective. It probably won't be a regular thing, but I'm curious to see what she has to say.

Chapter 54 – Wedding Day Part 1

'Buddy, do you mind letting the lady situate herself before you come barging past? For fucks sake, it's first class! There's plenty of room,' Edward growled. The grumblings of a large middle aged guy with small beady eyes and a porn-stache to rival Charlie's could be heard as he mutinously stood waiting while Bella managed to sit down in her airplane seat without being bowled over.

She was aware of a faint feeling of unease around the hostile passenger, who thankfully ended up seated far out of her earshot and line of sight. Once again, she was glad for the presence of Edward. He never failed to make her feel protected and safe.

She would never tire of the protective and somewhat possessive view in which Edward Cullen held her. Sometimes, a voice in her head (that didn't sound unlike her fem-politics prof from college) would reprimand her for secretly delighting in the behaviour of Edward which denoted caveman like tendencies. Rationally, she knew that she was a capable and strong woman. She had overcome much adversity in life to succeed in the ambitions that she had set for herself. However, she also knew that the dusty tomes that might collect on a Bridget Jones like bookshelf, regarding gender politics, were stagnant theories that were difficult to apply to the spontaneity of real life.

Life was more than a battle of championing brains over brawn or for equality between the sexes. She absolutely knew that Edward respected her, valued her opinion and did not take her for granted. It was too easy to use terms like 'rationally' or 'irrationally' – people are complex, and their emotions reflect that.

Hell, body chemistry confuses me most of the time.

Pulling herself out of her thoughts slightly, she noted that, as always, she was leaning in towards Edward who had seated himself at the aisle, shielding her from other angry passengers who might bash against her. The stress of the delayed flight was not pulling out the 'golden sunshine happy faces' of the passengers. Still, it was, she realised with a secret thrill, technically her wedding day – nothing was going to mar today.

She had grown up reading Bronte and Austen, and a large part of the fantasy world that she had soothed herself with in the hospice, had been about the imaginary lover who would whisk her away to the settings of her favoured books. He would not let adversity stand in his way of wooing her and securing her hand. Convention and social inequalities of fortune and rank would mean nothing to the man who loved her. He would whisk her away for a 'flight to the border' and marry her, societal conventions be damned.

While these fantasies did soothe and distract her from the physical pain that tormented her weakened body, she often awoke from such daydreams with tears streaming quickly and silently down her pale cheeks. The likelihood of having such a happy ending had seemed so small to her, imprisoned as she felt in that small dreary place (before the arrival of Alice).

The teenage girl that still lived within her was the first part of her being to fall in love with Edward Cullen. He embodied all of her adolescent standards of love and faithfulness.

And I'm marrying him today.

They were seated on the left side of the plane. His left arm came up and around her, an automatic and protective movement. His graceful hand was lightly playing with the ends of her long hair, the tips occasionally brushing against her sensitive collar bone. He had drawn out a small sketch pad and pencil, drawing what seemed to her to be complex and beautiful structures but which to him were proclaimed as 'doodling'.

'Are you happy living in our current house, Bella?' he asked unexpectedly. Her head, nestled comfortably between his neck and chest, rose up slightly to stare into his earnest green gaze. He was still staring at the white paper in front of him, his speech (as it so often seemed to be around herself) seeming to spring unbidden from the subconscious part of his mind.

She considered his words thoughtfully. There was no denying that she loved their house. It was their first real home together. It was family friendly, outside of the busy city limits and had excellent schooling nearby. They had talked about what options were available to them in starting a family. She had revealed to him that she did have some eggs frozen from some treatments when she was 17, so it was not impossible for them to have their own genetic children. He had simply smiled at her anxious gaze.

'Bella, it doesn't matter to me how we start to build our family. Life has no guarantees. If we are lucky enough to become parents someday, whether that be through adoption or of our own blood, then that will be a beautiful day. But, if we live our lives together and end up travelling the world as grey and wrinkly childless lovers, then those will be beautiful days too. Let's just let our love grow and see how beautiful our lives become,' he had told her.

His words did a lot to put her at ease, but she could not deny that a large part of her yearned to be a mother. She wanted to raise a new life with the man she loved, to blend her wisdom and experience with Edward's and help shape a worthy young mind.

'I am happy with our first home, honey. I love how it has slowly changed since I moved in. I like seeing all my silly books on the bookshelves. I love our twin sinks and the tub you had designed for us. I love that you think I don't know that you still record my episodes and watch them when you are alone,' she said, ending her speech suggestively. She adopted her husky tone of voice and started to discreetly rub his cock through the denim of his black jeans.

He leaned his head back against their plush leather seats. His eyes were closed tight and his bottom lip was caught between his teeth, his right arm clutching the arm rest as she increased the pressure of her strokes. He opened his eyes and turned to look at her, seeming to silently ask if this was really happening.

I am going to make you feel so fucking good Edward Cullen.

She loved the sexual power she held over this beautifully strong man. It made her constantly wet and wanting to see how easily he would harden and writhe for her touch. She stopped her ministrations and stood slightly, seeking the soft chenille blanket that was stowed in her carryon bag. It smelled of home and strawberries. He groaned it its scent, his eyes taking in her curvy form as she momentarily stood. There was no one in their immediate vicinity, and she had every intention of making him come.

She sat back down, placing the blanket over their forms and snuggling deep into his protective embrace. She waited until they were safely in the air, a good hour into the transatlantic flight. She would occasionally brush him so very slightly with her pinky finger, smirking in delight when even that small touch kept him stiff and aching.

He was thrusting gently into the air, his arousal evident under her fingers. He buried his face into her neck and hair, drawing in deep breaths of her scent. He was gripping her form with both hands, trying his hardest to maintain a normal facade.

She couldn't deny that the risk of being caught was part of the thrill that was arousing her. He spoke softly in her ear.

'Bella...faster. Stroke me harder...come'on baby touch me...'

She turned her head around, sucking his ear lobe into her mouth and teasing it with her teeth and tongue. At the same time, she gripped his cock in earnest, spreading out three fingers and rubbing in quick, hard strokes. Her thumb would occasionally come to rub his head, near his belt line. The material was slowly becoming wetter with his fluids.

It's a good thing he's wearing black jeans and a button down he can pull out of his pants.

She catalogued her own responses as she took in Edward's beauty. He was holding onto her, shielding their actions from view. He was thrusting hard under the blanket, his cock becoming even harder and longer. Her nipples were straining against her bra, the movements of her arm causing them to gain friction against the rough, lacy material. She squeezed her inner muscles, enjoying the feeling of power and arousal at their naughty actions.

'Bella...oh god faster...faster baby...yeah...fuck yeah...love you so much...' he growled, obviously nearing completion. She sped up as much as she could without inciting notice, and was soon gratified with his reaction.

He bit her on the neck, quite a bit harder than she was expecting. He thrust his hips entirely in her direction, slightly arching out of the chair as he rode his high. She continued her strokes and felt his cock spasm before the wet stain became much more pronounced. He was breathing harshly, moaning his appreciation and love in disjointed words and grunts.

'Nnnmm...Bella...God I'm coming...fuck I'm coming so hard...fuck...' she heard in ear. She smiled a Cheshire cat grin, loving the sexual thrill from her power over him.

Rose would be proud, she thought to herself.

Maybe there is a little bit of a Dom to me after all.