A/N I don't own Twilight

Thanks to Lel and Sherry.

- Edward -

Like a breath I brush her hair back from her neck. My lips caressing her neck so softly, goose bumps appear all over her skin. Opening my mouth, I suck softly, eliciting a moan and a sigh. My tongue touches her skin, tastes the delicate flavor of flowers, sunshine and her. "Please," I whisper, my lips brushing the shell of her ear as I speak. "No."

She won't budge.

She allows me to raise her arms above her head and pull off her sweater. It's winter, it's cold, but inside it is warm. I kiss down her back, touching every inch of skin I can reach. She shivers softly and I delight in her response. Sucking softly, until I reach the dimples in her back. Tracing my tongue up along her spine, I whisper, "Please." "No."

She won't budge.

Suppressing a smile, my hands trail down her front. Cupping her breasts – still a perfect fit. Massaging her just as she likes it, she leans back against me and sighs. Her eyes are closed, she's relaxed and enjoying me. We've been so stressed, I am happy to give her this, even if she won't return the favor. I pull softly on her nipples. "Please." She smiles. "No."

She won't budge.

Moving down, I coax her thighs apart for me. She's on her knees before me, her back now pressed against my chest. My hands, knowing her body like no other, not even herself, find their ways to her favorite spots. I tickle her kneecaps, rub circles on her hips. I bite her shoulder gently. "Please." "No."

She won't budge.

One arm around her waist, encircling, comforting. The other hand between her thighs, trailing up, up, until she shudders and sighs. It's a revelation every single time still. I do this to her, and she lets me. I don't know what is the bigger miracle of the two. Her hips move with my hand, at ease as she is under my ministrations. "Please." "No."

She won't budge.

Her hands on the back of my head, gripping, anchoring. My hand too skilled and I can't deny her, even if I had planned to. I am simply unable to deny her anything, but I wish, oh I wish she would listen to me once. I have horrid imaginations by her definition of a 'simple dress.' I try one more time. "Please." In the midst of her orgasm, she still manages to speak. "No."

Dammit, she won't budge.

My tactics not working, she's smiling secretively when she meets my pleading gaze. "Trust me," she says, and I am properly chastised. I just have this vision of her in a big dress, with layers and petticoats, lace and pearls. "Trust me," she repeats. "I won't wear a hoodie."

But she won't budge.

She goes dress shopping with girlfriends and her mother. Week after week. She doesn't tell me of her trips, and doesn't disclose when I ask her if she found anything. She's just smiling and glowing, and my heart soars to see her thus. We're counting down the days, and we're happy.

She buys a dress.

Both traditional, I don't want to see it until the day, and she won't show it, that fact is certain. She's happy, so happy, to have found the right dress. Curiosity burning, I curb my desire to tickle the truth out of her. I get a piece of fabric to buy a tux to match. My relief is palpable, even though I try to hide it.

It's white.

By the end of spring, we're almost done planning. A band, a location, catering and colors. A cake and a church, a list of guests and invitations. And all in between school, and school is getting harder. Late nights, early mornings. Tired eyes and slow lovemaking when we get the chance.

It won't change.

My parents involved, her parents involved. Her mother at first not an advocate of marriage, she now is Bella's best friend with advice as only a mother can give. Bella is glowing, my bride to be. Almost every day, I catch her hand with her ring and kiss it. She's mine, I'm hers. We're getting married.

It's getting real.

A bachelor party, thank God my friends don't take me to a strip club. Instead they choose to mortify, dressing me up as Superman. Her hen's night no different, she's wasted but happy. A rehearsal dinner, she insisted on the tradition. Everybody here, my best man and her maid of honor. We're almost there.

Almost complete.

Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue. My mother and hers take her aside and fill up the rhyme. My grandmother's diamond earrings, now passed on to her. A new necklace to match, the antique lace around her flowers on loan. A blue garter belt, making her blush, making me ache.

I want.

The last night before the wedding, we shall sleep alone. I hold her with me for as long as I can, loving her until she's beyond words. Tomorrow, she will be truly mine, and I can't wait. I hug her tighter, and she smiles. She's thinking the same. Tomorrow is the big day. Tomorrow, we will choose each other.

For life.

Nervous, so nervous, I feel like I didn't sleep at all. But now here I am, at the head of the aisle, waiting for my bride. The music starts and my heart explodes, and in she glides, on her father's arm. Tears blur my sight but even still I can take her in. A shiver runs down my spine as she catches my gaze.

She is a vision, so beautiful.

And her dress is perfect beyond imagination.