Welcome to PAD's whatever this is.
Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight.
I have no rebuttal.
Watching You 12
His sincerity is like a stake through my heart, and a skipped beat contracts the muscle, causing my staccato breath. He's concerned for me. I see it in the crinkled creases of his brushy, bristly brow and in the fine leathery lines, refusing to release their clutches around his tired, puzzled eyes.
He needs sleep…He needs rest…He needs a release—and so do I.
My waxing attraction to this beautiful man—this man any camera would fight to its death for just to capture his ethereal image—has reached a conclusion. Edward not only wants me, he needs me. And thankfully it's not a clingy, stifling, obsessive need…He was ready to let me go…He respects me…He apologized…He was a gentleman. I would be crazy not to be crazy for him.
I sigh because deep down, my hesitation—as always—rears her Medusa head and tries to frighten me away from embracing carefree spontaneity. But I'm tired of always living my life with training wheels trying to appease her. I want to balance by myself on a bicycle when someone lets go. Hell, with Edward, I could soar through heavenly blue skies in an untethered glider. And I want to soar. But I also want his tether and to soar attached to him, only him.
I rise up and off his thighs to smooth his worrisome wrinkles with my caring caresses. I lower my lips to his and unhurriedly kiss and nip and peck. As I pull away, putting some distance between us, I assess the smile he gives me, the smile that says, "I'm so glad I took a chance and let my abandonment bring us to where we are now." I give him that same smile, the smile that thanks him for being the one so bold, and so brave, and so uninhibited.
I ease myself backward over his torso and position myself again at his thighs. He deserves my full attention, and I care more than enough to give it to him.
My mouth finds its way again to his organ. My tongue encircles slowly counterclockwise around the cap of his warm…soft…smooth…pink shaft. As my mouth sucks in the head, my tongue pokes gently at his tip, tasting its salty provisions.
Ungh, "What are you doing to me, you incredible…beautiful…irresistible woman?"
And that—right there—makes me want to behead that Gorgon, the one protecting me from shame and self-doubt. I'll only live once, so if I die tomorrow—after what I hope we do tonight—let it be when I'm nestled inside the arms of this magnificent man. Because for once in my life, I want to live, refusing to play it safe.
I muster my strength and courage while I give myself my much needed pep-talk. There's going to be pain, discomfort, a blocked airway and an obnoxious taste, but in remembering this man's challenge and what it meant, I also remember all the playful months and cherished looks it took to get us here. And I won't trade that, nor will I throw it away.
I begin my descent of him, taking care to relax and breathe through my nose. I keep focusing on how badly I want us, how badly I want him. I'm so consumed by my need for this—the way he makes me feel—that I don't even realize I've completely taken him in.
He's big and long, and bigger and longer than I've ever had, which I guess makes him the biggest and the longest. My musings of this makes smile, putting more pressure against his tip, which is now at the back of my throat. He tenses. He likes it.
"Bella…baby…you feel so good. Ungh I knew it would feel like this. I knew you would feel like this."
Just as he was so bold in initiating our original encounter, I'm emboldened by his encouraging words, and I begin a repetitive ascent and descent over his solidified shaft. His male, musky scent, mixed with his choice of spicy soap, leaves my mind swirling. Add those to the hypnotically intoxicating smell of his leather jacket, and I'm as mesmerized as I'm dumfounded by his coercive cocktail.
I'm deeply focused and concentrating on my task when I feel the pressure of the pads of his fingers gently prod and coax me forward. Somehow, he's woven his right hand into my brunette tresses, and I didn't even realize it. His gentle pressure, encouraging me, does just that, and I surrender to his force, allowing him the lead. I know now he won't hurt me, so I let him drive.
My left hand is supporting my weight on his thigh, while my right hand becomes a catalyst, caressing his sac, kneading it gently to urge his release.
"Oh, Bella…oh, honey…that feels so good…don't stop…keep going…I'm coming…keep going…I'm coming…Ungh, Oh God! Ungh Fuck! Ungh Fuck! Ungh Fuck, Bella!
I think he came…In fact, I know he did. The hot, salty spurts shot into the back of my mouth and down my throat, and it really wasn't that bad; I'd eagerly welcome it over my chocolate kiss any time, but I won't tell him that. While he's recovering, I'm glad I'm here, diminishing over his still pretty prominent part. As I pull my mouth off him, I ponder my feelings. I like this man. I obviously like him enough to let him be with me in this way. But where does this leave things?
"Bella…?"
I refuse to look up. I guess she didn't die after all as I now feel my embarrassment coming back full force.
"No! Don't you dare do that to yourself."
He knows me so well…knows that I still have esteem issues…knows that alcohol gives me courage…knows that I'll do anything he asks.
"Look at me, Bella."
And I do, complete with tears now pricking the corners of my eyes.
He rises up and off the bench, quickly enveloping me in his arms.
"Don't. Don't feel that way about what we just did. Bella, it was amazing! You were amazing! I've never seen that level of confidence in you. It was demanding, frightening, and sexy as hell. There's nothing for you to be ashamed of. You owned me…and I liked it. And you still own me…and I like that even more."
He splays his left hand around the back of my neck and draws my face to his for a kiss, a kiss that starts out sweet and begs for forgiveness but ends up begging for more of the evening and maybe even the night.
Edward stands up and wraps my legs around his waist while my arms anchor themselves around his neck. He resets the alarm before making way to his domestic entrance. As he opens the door to the stairwell of his living space, he whispers to me.
"Just so we are perfectly clear, you will be spending the night, and it will be the first of many. So get ready to make yourself at home, and let me show you what you've just begun to mean to me."
A/N:
What do you think?
Review me your thoughts.
Thank you to my wonderful, spectacular beta, Chayasara, for getting this to you today.
Check out my other WIPs: "Boys Will Be", "Never Judge By The Cover", "For the Kindness of a Stranger", "Rude Awakenings". Also check out my completed one-shot I'm updating: It's a New Dawn. It's a New Year."
Thank you for reading.
PAD
