Thanks to my beta, Besotted, and my BFF pre-reader, Twaffle. I couldn't have done any of this without either of you.
This chapter earns the M rating. Just saying.
Antiques Roadshow
Bella and I are in Athens, Georgia, where she's working a three-day Roadshow weekend. Carlisle, Esme, Jasper and Alice will be flying in for tomorrow's taping, but today it's just me, and I've brought along a photograph for Bella to appraise. It's not your normal photo, especially given how old it is, and I'm insanely curious about it. I stand next to Mac as I wait, and he's instantly excited.
Oh, this is going to be awesome!
"I'm so glad I have the best seat in the house for this. She's bound to say something funny about your picture there," he says with a laugh. "We had to bleep her a few times in the beginning of her tenure, you know," he states, nodding his head vigorously with a smirk on his face. "It was fun explaining to her that she couldn't say certain words on television - especially PBS." I laugh and agree, knowing Bella doesn't get to watch much syndicated television.
"Go have a minute with your woman, Edward. I won't tape until she begins asking about your photo," Mac says as he clicks his camera off.
I knew Mac was a romantic at heart. How couldn't he be? He's been married to his love for 25 years. I give him a grin as I make my way in front of the camera, kissing my lady softly and greeting her with one effortless word. "Beautiful," I whisper fervently, stroking her cheek and retreating from her lips too soon for my liking.
"Hi, baby," she whispers back, smiling from ear to ear.
You're the sweetest man in the world.
"I mean it," I respond simply, twining her hair in my fingers. "You're stunning. And not just on the outside," I say with purpose. Bella blushes before she straightens out, knowing she has to get the ball rolling. This event isn't very busy yet, but it will be in a few hours. I hear Mac turn the camera back on, and we begin.
"What have you brought today, Edward?" she asks as we sit.
"I have an old photograph here, of a 'demure' nude, if you will," I say with a sheepish grin. "She's shrouded in a sheer black fabric, with her... uh, important parts covered," I say, stumbling though the description a little as I hand her the photo. I'm immediately taken into a human memory as our fingers touch.
It's the spring of 1914, and I'm 17 years old, spending time with my good friend William. We're at his house, reading for class and talking about the Cubs' upcoming season, when William moves his book, gets up, and crouches next to his bed. I note that his book is titled "Dracula's Guest," which sounds pretty weird. Who's Dracula?
I look at him curiously, wondering what he's up to. He procures a shoebox from under his bed, lifting the lid off and rummaging around for something specific.
"What're you doing, Will?" I ask, getting up and peering over his shoulder. He's rifling through the contents, shuffling playing cards and love notes from his sweetheart out of the way, and he rushes to tell me what he's looking for as he searches.
"The book I was reading made me think about a photo my dad bought at an estate auction a couple months ago," he mumbles, continuing in his quest. "Got it!" he exclaims, lifting the photo from the bottom of the box. "My dad said she was advertised as a vampire because she kept double-exposing…" he trails off, handing me the print.
"What?" I ask incredulously, gaping at him. "There's no such thing as vampires," I say, shaking my head and looking at the woman in the photograph. I suck in my breath sharply, never having seen so much of a woman before. My blood begins to race through my veins and I feel the stirrings of desire form without warning. She's ethereal; if anyone could look like a vampire, I guess it would be her.
"She does look kind of like a vampire, Will, but I don't believe in that stuff," I say, shifting so that he doesn't notice the effect the picture has had on me.
"Never said I did either, Edward. Regardless, you gotta' admit she's a fine dame," he says with a grin, nudging my side.
"Well, yes, she's very fine," I respond in agreement. But as I look at the photo again, I have to wonder if she was unhappy. There's a somber frown on her pretty face, and it unnerves me. I'm not naïve enough to believe that everyone's existence is a happy one, but I wonder if she's only frowning as a pose, or if she's truly troubled. Just then, Will's mom knocks on the door to his room.
"Shit, Edward!" he says in a panic. "Put that photo in your book and close it! My mom can't know I have that picture in here," he says as I quickly comply, stuffing the print into my copy of "North of Boston" by Robert Frost. I idly think that William and I couldn't have chosen more different books to write our essays on.
"Yeah, mom, come in!" Will yells, and she makes her entrance.
I'm taken out of that memory, remembering that I need to be in the present moment with Bella.
I think if you could, you'd be blushing right now. Bella smirks at me smugly and begins to speak about the photograph.
"Do you have any knowledge of where it came from?" she asks, standing the photo up carefully, making sure Mac can film it properly. I can answer her factually, since I was just given a memory about it.
"My friend's father bought this at an estate auction a long time ago," I say with a smirk, really unable to wait for Bella's reaction when I tell her more. "And she was advertised as a vampire…"
Bella coughs and chokes as a hysterical burst of laughter emits from her throat.
Oh, hell, no. You did not…
"Because she kept double-exposing. Or so the shopkeeper said," I finish with a laugh and a wink, subtly running my hand from her knee to her thigh. Bella calms and her eyes sparkle with mischief as her thoughts shift into desire. We're both in playful moods, and I want nothing more than to kiss her smiling lips into submission. I can literally sense her body thrumming with every stroke of my fingers upon her skin, and it's driving me to the brink.
"Ahh, I see," she responds as she shifts her body a little, trying to tame the current that flows between us. "Well, this picture is a story of smoke and mirrors, because it's not really what it seems," she says as she gestures with her hands.
"This picture has had a history of selling for almost $3,000 at auctions, but that value is incorrect," she says as she points to the small title on the bottom of the picture. "As you can see, it's entitled 'Kaloma,' and this much of 'Kaloma,'" she says as she points to her neck, gesturing up, "was illustrated on the dust jacket of a book called 'I Married Wyatt Earp,' presumably written by Josephine Sarah Marcus Earp."
"As in, the famous gunfighter's wife?" I ask, intrigued.
"One and the same," she answers with a small smile.
"Based on the assumption that Josie Earp wrote the book, most people also assumed that this photo was actually of Josie herself," she says, pausing to take a sip of coffee. "And, the actual author of the book, Glen Boyer, did nothing to quell this rumor. But if you look down here," she says as she flips the print around, pointing out more black type, "it says 'P.N. Co.,' and there's a copyright date of 1914. That stands for Pastime Novelty Company of New York City. They made photographs like this of women posing suggestively, and used them as inexpensive photos to sell. There's no evidence as to who this person is, but she's almost certainly not Josie Earp," she says as she flips the photo back to face the camera.
"One of the reasons we know it's not Josie is that she was born in 1861… and this photo was copyrighted in 1914. That would make Josie 53 years old in this picture. Does she look 53 to you?" Bella asks cheekily.
"Lucky for her if she is," I respond right back, leaning a little further into her.
She laughs, and I can tell by her thoughts that she's going to continue our playful banter.
"Yeah, yeah," she answers with a roll of her eyes, raising her brows. "If she's 53, I want whatever she was eating, right?" she asks, nudging my leg under the table. She plays a dangerous game when she begins to run her foot up my leg, further increasing my underlying need for her to be under and around me.
"Right," I agree gravelly, mock glaring at her. She just keeps on with the rest of her assessment, unaware of the sensual torture I'm already planning for her.
"It's a great picture, and it's in excellent condition. But it's only worth about $150," she says with a small shrug directed to the camera.
"That's okay," I answer honestly. "Thank you for the information," I say, and the segment draws to a close. Bella has a few minutes before she's set to film the next segment, and I take the opportunity to draw nearer to her, sliding my palm into her hair and massaging gently. A barely audible moan escapes from her lips as I bring my lips close to her ear.
"Do you think you'll escape this night unscathed?" I whisper with seductive intent, feeling her blood rush through her neck with my thumb. "Do you think you'll be able to handle all I can give you, my love?" I ask, slightly grazing her ear with my tongue before backing away.
Jesus, Edward. Not anymore, I don't.
"Mm-hmm…" I hum, forcing myself to calm down. "I'll see you in a few hours, my Bella," I say, walking backwards a few steps, smirking at the complete 180 that's taken place. She looks utterly dazed, for which I'm proud. She has no idea of the power she wields over my body, and I intend on wielding my own power tonight.
Hours later, Bella and I are strolling in the twilight to our hotel. This part of the country is remarkably beautiful in the late fall months, and I'm able to walk with her without glittering like a disco ball on New Year's eve. Our bodies are once again buzzing with carnal energy, and Bella's as playful and teasing as ever.
"So where did your semi-nude lady come from?" she prods, poking me in the side as she licks the ice cream cone she bought at a year-round ice cream shop. I'm utterly fascinated by the way her tongue tastes the cold treat, and I wonder how it would feel to have her warm tongue swirling around me, before she looks at me curiously, wondering why I haven't answered. I clear my throat before attempting to speak, grabbing her other hand as we walk.
"My friend, William, had me stuff it in my Robert Frost book, before his mother could catch him with it," I answer with humor in my voice. "I swear, I never used it for more… pleasurable purposes," I trail off, tugging her closer and kissing her with hot determination. Her mouth is cold from the ice cream, and she tastes like chocolate - sweet and sinful.
"You taste so good," I rasp, separating my lips from hers, running my fingers through her soft hair. I find that my fingers have a mind of their own, and they begin to wrap around her delicious thigh before I gain control, as well as awareness of our surroundings. "But I'd rather have you where there are no prying eyes… and no one to hear me make your body sing," I growl with need. Bella's eyes dilate and darken, and her thoughts are on the same wavelength as mine.
I want you, Edward. Please. We have no more reason to wait.
"As you wish," I respond with a wicked smile, unable to keep from hurrying as quickly as possible to the hotel. I whisk us to our door, and Bella gasps as she realizes what kind of room I've secured for our stay. It's a Presidential suite, and it's meant for the kind of seclusion we both need right now.
This room is beautiful, Edward.
"Nothing is good enough for you, other than me," I say with conviction, putting the do-not-disturb placard in place. "I want you. Alone," I growl quietly, turning to face her, pressing her body flush with mine. "I want your love. I want to drown in it. I want your sweat igniting my cool skin. I want your body to bow for me, and I want your breaths to speak my name as I give you all I have. Everything I have," I whisper, meaning what I say in the most literal terms. She already has all of me, and all that I can give her now is my body. And as I claim her lips once more, that's all I can think of.
We're a tangle of tongues and moans, slowly making our way to the master suite, and Bella opens her hooded eyes to take in her surroundings. I set the room up with a vase of pink and red tulips and a bottle of red wine before I went to pick her up from the convention center. Sparse petals adorn the bed, and Bella's thoughts zone in on how special I've made her feel.
Fuck, you're perfect, she thinks, resuming our kiss with passion. Her hands trail from my shoulders to my cheeks, lighting my skin with fire before sliding into my hair, tugging and making me growl. As hard and primed as I am for her, the feral side of my nature wants to be let out, and I'm having a hard time denying the urge to taste her blood. I could never hurt her, but I can't restrain the need I have to bite and sample her, either.
"Not perfect," I groan darkly, lifting her knee-length skirt with my hands. "Just in love. And in lust," I say, teasing her flesh with my fingers before letting them brush against her wet and waiting sex. She shudders and gasps, rubbing against my fingers in an effort to seek more, and I vow to draw this out. I want her damn near begging for me before I'm through. As I slowly withdraw my fingers, she makes a whining noise of protest in the back of her throat, and her eyes flash to mine in question.
"I won't be rushed," I purr, lifting her legs to wrap them around my waist. I kiss her hard, possessing her mouth with my tongue as I grind my cock into her with calculation. She feels so fucking good - so soft and tempting against me. "I promise you'll be taken care of," I whisper as I lay her on the bed. Her legs are still wrapped around me, and I continue to thrust against her as I tear my shirt from over my head. I undress my lover with steady hands, feeling nothing but love and anticipation of being so intimately connected with the woman underneath me.
I part her legs with vampire speed, kicking off my shoes and removing my jeans and briefs before kneeling, bringing her heat before my waiting lips and thirsting tongue. A deep growl leaves my chest as I draw my next breath; the scent of her arousal washes over me and I need to savor her desire before I go crazy.
"Before I make you come with my tongue," I growl while bringing my mouth closer and closer to where she's needy and wet, "I need to ask…" I say, lying my tongue on her pulsing clit, "if I can sample your sweet blood, as well." I finish, licking her softly, hearing her moan and grip the sheets tighter in her fists.
You can do that? Without losing control? If so, the answer is yes. God, that's sexy.
I watch as her head falls back under my attentions and she writhes under my touch. "Mmm, Bella," I purr. "You taste even better than I imagined you would," I say, savoring her nectar, placing my fingers at her entrance and slipping them inside as I please her with my mouth. Her body bows for me just as I wanted; her hips thrust down and her moans grow louder with the need to let go. I take my time, exploring her body with pleasure, thrusting my hips against the bed in need. I'm aching to be inside her, hard and wanting.
"I want to feel you come around my fingers… before I feel you wrapped around my cock," I growl, feeling her spasm and shake. Fuck, Edward, she thinks before tightening, coming hard and fast. She's unbelievably erotic and stunning in her pleasure, and as she comes, I take my own, carefully biting her inner thigh. "Mine," I groan as her crimson blood trickles into my mouth, assaulting my tongue with her taste, her life. I'm overwhelmed by her trust in me, and as I consume her gently, I concentrate on restraining myself from coming. When I come, I want to be inside her.
God, baby. That tongue…
Her thoughts are muddled and happy as I scoot her body towards the mountain of pillows adorning the headboard. Why does one bed need so many pillows? Do they think people are actually going to sleep on those frilly, odd-shaped balls of cotton? I digress.
I trace every inch of her soft skin with my fingertips; the planes and curves of her body beckon mine to mate. A touch of worry makes its way into my mind as I position myself above her, knowing that I might hurt her with this act of love. I tenderly possess her lips with my own, paying homage to the woman she is, trying to make her feel my devotion. I cradle her beautiful face with my hand, look into her eyes, and ask her one simple question.
"Are you ready, love?" I whisper in the softest low growl I can, rubbing my thumb over her full, pink lips. She nods her head affirmatively, and her tongue darts out, grazing my thumb, before her teeth bite down with enough pressure to make me throb even harder.
"You play a dangerous game, Isabella," I purr, rubbing my cock against her entrance. I can feel how aroused she is, how her body bends to my will. "Using your teeth like that," I say, pushing into her slowly, watching for any signs of pain. I sink into her a few inches at a time, growling at the feel of her tight, wet heat enveloping me. "Making me want to bite you… mark you…" At this she moans, and her walls tighten around me as I fill her completely. She shows no signs of pain, and she's looking at me ravenously.
"Ungh, Edward," she cries, rolling her hips in time with mine. "Feels so good," she whimpers, as we push and pull together effortlessly. She's so tight around me, gripping me so perfectly, and I can feel my imminent release building in intensity. I reach down to position her leg on my hip, and as I do, my fingers brush her fresh mark, making her buck into me harder. With every downward thrust, she's quivering more and more tightly around me, and with one final thrust, she lets go, moaning my name, taking me with her into ecstasy.
Oh, God. Yes, yes, yes…
"Love you, love you, love you," I growl softly as I spill into her, nipping her neck with my teeth, marking her once more. As we come down from our high, I cover us with the plush comforter, holding her close to my chest. "Love you too," she mumbles, drifting off to sleep.
Bella sleeps peacefully throughout the night, waking in the morning with a small groan as she stretches.
"Are you all right, sweetheart?" I ask, wanting to make sure I didn't hurt her before.
"I'm fine, Edward," she says with a sheepish grin. "Just a little tender, is all. That's normal, you know?"
There's no reason for you to stress out about my aches, babe. This is a good kind of ache, and I didn't even bleed.
I survey her body as closely as possible, noting nothing out of the ordinary, and I choose to believe her. If she says she's feeling okay, then she is. I'm not going to second guess her. Suddenly, Bella's thoughts shift in a different direction - one I wasn't expecting, but one that needed to be broached, and I can feel depression sinking into my psyche already.
Oh, no. No, no, no. We didn't…
"We didn't use protection," she blurts out in a panic, and her heart races with worry. I sigh forlornly, wishing I had to be worried about such a predicament. I wish she could bear my child, but it's just not possible. I run my hand over my face, looking into her eyes with sadness.
"Bella, my kind can't… we can't have children," I say with difficulty. I never allowed myself to think about the possibility of having children to begin with, but now that I've found my mate, I wish there was a way. "When we're transformed, we're frozen in time. It's impossible for us to reproduce," I say, looking away. I can't bear to look into my mate's eyes, knowing there will be disappointment and sorrow.
Oh. Oh, Edward.
I can hear her moving toward me, shifting her body closer in the effort to see my eyes. My chest feels tight, knowing that she'll see the tiny, fractured part of me that can't give her everything she might want in life.
"I'm so sorry, Edward," she says, tilting my head up to look into my eyes. And as I look into hers, I do see disappointment and sorrow, but her thoughts tell me that some of it is for me.
I'm so sorry you never got the chance. You would have had the most adorable, well-mannered children. And you would have loved them dearly.
A sob rips from my chest, and I break down in her arms, mourning what can never be. She runs her hands through my hair, soothing me. "I'd never want any children other than yours," I state with finality, brushing her dark hair away from her eyes. I need to see her emotions, and I need to hear her thoughts now, more than ever. She tethers me to this world, and she still doesn't know how tightly I'm bound. Her human mind is still working through what it would mean to become a vampire, and with every con that makes its way onto the list, I worry that she'll choose humanity, instead. She still hasn't truly made the connection that if she dies, I'll die.
I've thought about having children before. I won't lie to you. It's something that I've desired.
Her mind conjures up images of a copper-haired baby boy, full of life and innocence. It kills me to know I can't give that to her.
"Bella, that's… I can't," I shake my head, wishing I could cry. "I just can't. I'm sorry. So, so sorry."
"I'm sorry too, Edward," she says, stroking my hand tenderly. "I never wanted to make you sad. And I never wanted to unintentionally torture you with my thoughts on what can never be," she sighs heavily. Her face is pinched with worry and tension, and I'm saddened that I made her feel that way. "I won't say I'm completely okay with this, because I'm not. But I hope you understand that this isn't your fault, and that nothing you could've done can change this. It's another thing that I'm going to have to seriously evaluate," she says, climbing into my lap to be closer to me. "One day at a time," she says, placing her hand over my heart.
"One day at a time," I agree, kissing her softly.
"Would you like to go get some breakfast before your day starts?" I ask, always looking out for her. "You know you've got some rather high-spirited family members to deal with today," I say with a gentle smile.
"Omelettes and pancakes, it is," she replies, tugging my hand, leading me towards the spacious bathroom. "But not before a nice, hot bath - and some TLC," she answers, looking over her shoulder coquettishly. She always knows how to make me feel better.
A/N:
This chapter was insanely difficult to write. I have zero experience with writing sex scenes, and it was a huge mental hurdle for me to even write one. I apologize for the delay in posting, but it is what it is. If you enjoy reading them, but have never written one, I challenge you to try it. Shit is hard. Especially when you're trying to avoid using certain words and/or clichés. Let me know if the first one sucked?
I directly quoted The Princess Bride this time. "As you wish" belongs to Westley. We all know this, right?
For those that are interested, I've posted links to pictures of all the antiques that I've used in this story. You can find them here, by clicking on my profile.
I want to thank my wonderfully awesome readers for sticking with me, and for making this such an enjoyable ride. Your support has been so, so great.
Twitter. Yeah. If you follow me, you probably saw me whining and bitching about this chapter for ages. Sometimes, twitter is for bitching. Find me there (at)conqueredthesky.