Chapter 21: Trust and Faith
When Esme led me into her room she brought me to the end of her bed and then turned in order to close the door. Coming back to me and taking her time, even slower than she would usually, she took off my vest and unbuttoned my shirt. The slightest pressure was felt on my skin from her hands indicating that she had pushed me. I allowed my body to follow her gentle command and sat on the edge of the bed. She then proceeded to take off my shoes and next socks. These tasks completed she put out her hand. Taking it, she moved as if to raise me up.
After following her lead, I placed my hands on her shoulders. Gazing into her eyes, I attempted to convey through look alone how much she meant to me. When she smiled lovingly I indicated for her to turn around by using my hands to turn her shoulders. After complying she lifted her hair this routine between us familiar and her knowing what I wanted to do next without words.
As I undid the buttons to her dress my body was filled with absolute reverence. Here this woman was offering herself to me over and over again without pause, trusting me completely with her body and, even if she did not know it, life. It awed me. As a result my lips lingered on her skin as each patch was exposed and then pressed deeper into her skin than I had ever attempted. Her back to me I pulled the right sleeve down and then the left by millimetres kissing lovingly each new part of her skin that graced my presence. In relief and disappointment she was eventually removed from it. Once the dress came off her arms entirely, it fell to the floor.
Breaking the silence that had enveloped us both, I checked, "Shall I remove more of your garments?"
She waited a minute seeming to collect herself before she answered, "Not for now. I want to offer you my touch first if that is alright with you." Her voice contained that drunken tone she got when she was enjoying my actions.
It pleased me that such a simple thing still affected her to such a degree.
However, even in her state, nervousness came through in her tone, and I suspected she was using her undergarments as a form of comfort. I had used clothing so far in our marriage to decrease my fear and sense of vulnerability; it was only fair for her to want to do so also. Desiring for her to be at ease as much as possible, I turned her around gazing softly at her, and with a smile agreed.
Once more her hands came towards me, but they seemed to hesitate. Instead of moving towards my garments, she wrapped herself around my body. Her ear was too close to where my heart no longer beat, which increased my nervousness. Hopefully the union suit sufficiently hid this part of myself well enough. This was really where the greatest danger lay. To ease my concerns, my mind defaulted to conducting one last final evaluation.
There was some chance that in my state of undress she would discover my lack of a heartbeat. I was not, surprisingly, that worried about the rest of what we were planning. I had experienced being near her enough times when she was coated in her arousal scents that I was not afraid of attacking her, as long as I held my breath. However, there was some risk that she might get some of my fluids within her.
"Esme?" I asked her softly with my arms around her holding her close.
"Yes?" she replied with the barest amount of air.
"No matter what you must keep your mouth closed and do not lick or do anything else that might get my fluids within your body," I warned her. "Do you understand?"
"Make sure I do not consume your fluids in anyway," she repeated back to me in a way that sounded like she was teasing my need to remind her of this. Then, in a serious tone she added, "Yes, I understand."
Relieved I pulled her in slightly closer and began running my hands along her body while kissing her hair. She moaned slightly and sagged some into my body. The action combined with her heat was incredibly arousing and I found myself pressing into her stomach.
After a few moments she pulled back. "How about I take off the top part of your union suit? Start with something we have done before," she suggested.
"The woman is wise," I agreed.
Having me sit, she started with the button of my shirt closest to my neck. I was so nervous of what would come after that by the time she had placed the last shirt button through its eyehole I was completely frozen. This part of my nature I no longer needed to hide from her. So, I locked myself into place, prayed to my Heavenly Father that we would both survive whatever she had in mind, and then trusted. This form of faith had bcome easier to me and for a second I marvelled at how Esme had been teaching me how to become a man of faith. However, she consumed any subsequent thoughts when she placed her hand onto me and leaned into me a small bit.
When the shirt was off me completely she ran her hands over my union suit from my abdomen up to my shoulders slowly and tenderly. Her heat left tingles and physical reminders of wherever she had touched. She rested her hands on the top of my chest for a long while before she brought her fingers to the top button of my union suit.
When each button was undone she would look into my eyes checking that I was still consenting to her proceeding. When a few buttons were open she put her hand onto my skin directly and ran her fingers through my chest hairs. The sensation was so much that I was uncertain if I could manage her touching me more than that. Before I could object, she had removed her hand. Then, she undid a few more buttons and repeated the process.
At the point she would have usually stopped removing my union suit, it became clear to me that taking it off halfway as we usually did was silly in this instance.
"Esme," I said softly as she undid the second to bottom button. "Perhaps you should take it off completely."
She looked down bashfully, but nodded in agreement.
Then tantalizingly slowly centimetre by centimetre she moved her hand passed my belly button down the line of hairs that brought her hand so very close to me. She stopped and inhaled. She searched my eyes asking if I was okay. I gazed adoringly back at her unable to respond. She must have taken my state as a yes, because she soon moved her hand to rest on top of my member still covered by the bottom half of my union suit.
My worries had deflated it, but I was glad, since I was uncertain how she would respond. I had more than once heard nurses talk about men's privates in a way that made it sound as if it scared them, and I did not want Esme to be afraid of me in any way. However, her touch was incredibly stimulating, and thus hardened it slightly, as my nerves were still strong. Eventually, whatever she needed seemed satisfied and she resumed her removal of my clothing. Once the last button before my pants was undone, I stood so that she might remove my pants, assuming she wanted to do so in the manner we usually did.
She placed her hands along my hips and moved her hands towards the front of my pants. She undid the fastenings at a slower speed than prior, like she needed the time to collect herself for what would come next. When her task was complete the pants slid off my legs collecting at my ankles onto the floor. Then, button by button she undid the rest of the union suit. Assisting me coming out the sleeves, she moved the fabric down and off my body. It then too rested at my ankle. Keeping her eyes cast downwards, she moved so that she was in front of me sitting on the floor. Stopping her movements, she appeared to be waiting for me. Figuring out what she most likely wanted, I lifted my left foot allowing her to take me out of that side completely. Then we repeated the action on the right side. Her behaviour worried me slightly, so as soon as the garment was no longer on my body I turned around at a marginally quickly human speed, moved myself onto the bed, and lay down with my back towards her hoping something familiar would assuage any concerns she might have.
Esme came and placed herself on top of me and her body felt much more relaxed than it had looked minutes earlier. For a while she did not move at all, but then out of the blue she began kissing and licking my skin. Shortly after, as we had done numerous times before, she rubbed herself along me, except that with no fabric on me and only her undergarments on her it was even more enticing. While doing this, she continued to kiss and lick me, and then began also running her teeth along parts of my back and arms. Involuntarily my body started moving, desiring friction in expectation of what would come next. Each time it did this I would will it into stillness once more wanting to release in the manner we had agreed.
An immeasurable amount of time passed when I heard Esme breathe into my ear, "Turn over my love."
Waiting for her to get off me, I gave myself one last chance to change my mind.
Then moving onto my back, she came and arranged herself so that her head was on my arm. She used her left hand to play with the hairs on my chest slowly travelling her hand downward. It was one part tantalizing, one part soothing, and two parts nerve-wrecking. It took immense self-control to do nothing and wait for her. Repeatedly I told myself that perhaps this was her way of calming her nerves.
Almost an hour had passed when she propped herself up slightly and asked with a mischievous glint in her eye, "Are you cold everywhere?"
Swallowing I eyed her carefully. "What are you asking, Mrs. Cullen?" I played along.
"If you are as cold down there," she stated while her eyes travelled to my torso, "as you are everywhere else."
"I suspect so," I admitted with a gulp unable to hide my nerves.
"May I inspect?" she asked with a sly smile.
"And how would you perform this inspection?" I spluttered out shocked at how her brazenness was manifesting, while also feeling incredibly amazed by her.
"By touch, of course," she told me grinning wickedly.
"Esme," I groaned unsure if I hated or appreciated her teasing.
Suddenly her features shifted and she appeared more serious.
"Say no, if you want me to stop, Carlisle. I want to do this. I am your wife after all. But you can always say no. Is that not what you tell me?"
I groaned louder, but said nothing, and tried to figure out for one last time if I was really ready for such a thing. Certainly her hand on me would hurt neither of us. I had already determined that. For my own peace of mind once more I imagined, given my experiments, the chance of her becoming infected from my fluid. I had not yet tested anything other than the venom from my mouth. I had already warned her of that. I mentally reviewed how her hands looked and if she had any open wound of any kind on them.
Despite my confidence that she did not, I asked anyway. "Please, for my sanity, let me see your hands."
She looked at me confused and lifted them from my abdomen where they had been resting, and put them in front of me slowly turning them around. "Do they pass?"
I eyed them closely finding nothing of concern. "Still, be careful please?" I begged.
"You have no need to worry, Carlisle. I will be careful, and will not harm you," she reassured me.
She was wrong in her assumption, but I did not have the heart to tell her so.
Once more, she placed her hands on my abdomen. The concerns that I had prior that she would discover my unbeating heart or my lack of blood seemed silly in light of what we were going to do next. She knew in some way that I was fundamentally different from her, even if she had not guessed what I might be. All my hiding from her, my precautions to ensure that she did not discover my inhumanity seemed silly at this juncture as she slowly and carefully moved her hands lower and lower.
At less than an inch away she looked over to me and asked, "May I?"
It took me a moment, but I eventually responded, "Yes, you may," and looked at her in adoration.
It had already hardened in response to her proximity, but her touch caused it to do so even more and it began to twitch slightly. She did nothing more than placed her hand on top. After a few minutes, she moved so that her head was on my belly button but kept her hand where it had been. I closed my eyes and simply enjoyed the moment. Esme, my wife, was touching me in a way that before our one-year anniversary I would have vehemently argued was impossible, but yet here we were. After a while she moved her hand some down the length to its root and then to the tip exploring.
Something primal within me strutted. This woman, irrelevant of her species, my inner beast wanted to claim and proclaim. Everything within me wanted to take her and crush her to my chest, but I did not. My mind could not help imagine doing more, even when I tried to turn it off. In the end, my only recourse to the mental bombardment was to focus on the moment. My entire attention became singularly focused on Esme, her hand, her motion, where her body was, ensuring she was safe. It was a dangerous game we were agreeing to play, no matter how much I tried to control for the risks.
As the sensations of her touch overwhelmed me, it became impossible to do anything but admit that I wanted her in my life for as long as I was on the earth. And even though I should have been upset at the prospect or mentally chastising my thoughts, everything within me was gleeful and triumphant. Perhaps I should have worried that the thought of her being the same species as me aroused me to the point of release, but in the bliss that arrived shortly afterwards I could not find it in myself to do anything but embrace this selfish craving and become more determined to find a way to keep her in my life as long as we both should live.
True to her word, Esme got off me and washed her hands immediately. She also brought back a rag to clean me.
"Place that next to my hamper, please Esme," I requested once she was done, so that it might be burnt the next day while she was at work.
During the time she was gone, I turned over. When she had finished, she turned off the lights, came and half lay on top of me.
Over an hour later she was still awake and asked me her voice shaking, "Did you enjoy yourself?"
Turning my head, I asked, "Was my enjoyment not evident?"
She frowned some as if in thought. "I cannot be certain that a release means that you were pleased."
Realizing the truth in her words, I vowed, "It was incredible, Esme. It seems like the impossible has become true."
She smiled then appearing proud.
After some time went by I quietly asked, "Would you wish for me to touch you?"
She gulped and sputtered before she finally said, "Yes, I believe that I would enjoy that."
"Another time, then. Just let me know when you are ready," I requested.
"Uh-huh," she mumbled seemingly lost in her mind.
An hour later and she still was awake I whispered, "Did touching me in this way please you?"
Only slightly groggy she answered, "It was incredible. I felt like a goddess and simultaneously humbled at your courage and vulnerability."
"I am glad," I replied completely understanding what she was attempting to articulate, as I often felt the same in reaction to her.
More time passed and I debated whether to alter the topic.
Eventually, noting she was still awake, I told her, "I do not want to take away from tonight, but I do want to tell you that Mrs. Lemich came to my office at the end of my shift and suggested that a relationship with her would help my career."
Esme's face turned red and if possible it looked like steam would come out of her ears.
Before she could even say anything I added, "Naturally, I turned her down and left my office immediately. And even though her offer means nothing to me, so not even worth mentioning, my refusal might cause us problems."
She ground her teeth together creating a horrendous sound.
This time I remained silent allowing her space to think and speak if she wished.
Eventually, as if she could no longer contain herself her muttered under her breath, "That arrogant, self-conceited, self-absorbed, witch of a woman. How dare she."
By the look in her eye it was as if Esme wanted to go find Mrs. Lemich and rip her head off. Even though the image was amusing I kept it to myself, wise enough to know such chuckling would only incite Esme more.
"Please Esme," I cooed. "She means less than nothing to me. I only want you."
Calming some, Esme replied, "That does not excuse her behaviour."
"Of course not," I agreed, "but we cannot control her behaviour. I can only control my responses."
"It will be a bear to work with her now," she grumbled.
"If she becomes truly bothersome to us, then we can always leave," I reminded her.
"I knew she wanted you at the New Years party," she countered.
"And you were correct," I agreed, "but it takes two. She cannot force me to do anything."
After some time had passed Esme wondered, "Could she make it difficult for you to get a new posting?"
"Nearby, perhaps," I allowed, "but we could go more west, if you were agreeable to frontier life. There are always solutions, Esme. Please do not be concerned about her."
A few minutes later she agreed, "I will not worry about her threat, but I retain the right to be upset about her making a pass at my husband."
Trying to hold in my smile, I relented, "Fair enough."
Not long after she finally fell asleep and I revelled at what we had accomplished.
In the morning, after Esme had removed herself to bathe and I had taken in my first breath, my immediate reaction had been to roar. The moment the sensation rose up in me I stifled the inflection and tried to discern what had caused such a reaction. After much thought, it seemed that the scent of her arousal mixed with the evidence of mine drove me towards an animalistic madness.
When Esme joined me in my office, following her finishing her morning routine, I divulged, "I do not think we should repeat that Esme."
She blinked at me repeatedly and looked like she might begin tearing. A couple minutes later after collecting herself she stated sadly, "But I thought you enjoyed yourself."
Coming in front of where she had sat, I squatted and put her hands in mine. "It is not that at all. Rather, my experiment after you left to bathe caused a primal reaction in me that I do not wish to encounter again."
She eyed me speculatively before speaking softly, "Of course, if you say no, I will respect that, just as you respect my no, but I would not want us to end this level of intimacy. Fear of your responses is something I can empathise with, as often what I desire to do or imagine is unladylike. However, have we not faced similar things before? Each time were we not simply careful and have made it through? Have faith in us, my husband," she concluded pleading with her tone and her eyes.
Considering her words carefully, I could find no argument against them. At the same time, I was unwilling to completely discard the terror my reaction caused in me.
So, instead I insisted, "If it does not get better in a few months, then we might have to reconsider."
She looked disappointed, but agreed with my terms.
It was a while later when we were both engrossed in our readings that my curiosity won and I asked her, "Wish to share your unladylike desires or images?"
She nearly dropped her book and spluttered. She had a look somewhere between a chagrin and irate. It took her many minutes to collect herself.
When she spoke there was a challenging tone, "And would you repay me in turn?"
My jaw dropped and found myself mortified.
"Then, you have my answer," she stated in a dignified huff and returned to her reading.
She had been right. Thus, I found myself considering what I might be willing to share, in order to learn what she had hinted at.
As the weeks passed, Esme's ministrations and my subsequent releases seemed to open up a whole new element in our relationship. We touched just as frequently, but we both became aroused more easily as if the touches reminded our bodies of where things could lead and called us towards that end. Her sleeping on my back or next to me continued. Esme purchased small towels that she deemed as disposable. We used them to remove my fluids from myself and if any splattered on her. Then, we would burn them. Each time my fluids were released I had to be especially careful to not breathe, and mind myself when conducting my experiments of the odours afterwards. True to Esme's beliefs, after a few times my reactions to the scents were more manageable.
Then, one time when we were in the sitting room reading while I massaged her leg when I commented, "You seemed quite possessive of me when I mentioned Mrs. Lemich's offer."
"No more than you are of me," she countered.
Considering her words, I found myself in agreement.
"What do you think that means?" I wondered out loud curious of her thoughts on the matter.
She looked up briefly and confirmed, "That we are both possessive?"
"Yes," I concurred and became lost in my thoughts regarding the meaning behind this.
It was a while later when she finally spoke once more, "It would also seem to mean that we are tightly bonded to one other, afraid to lose the other, and territorial."
My mind might work faster than hers, but it still took me a while before I replied by asking, "Do you think that is a good thing?"
She scrunched up her face and it took a while before she stated, "I think it is neither good or bad. It just is. However, it does seem like we are more possessive of each other than most couples. Certainly I have observed my friends wanting their husband's time and attention, as well as disagreeing with the idea of them being sexual intimate with another woman. Nevertheless, it does seem like my feelings for you and reactions are more intense both in comparison to my friends and for my own nature."
It was instantly apparent that she was describing how vampires feel and react to their mates. Her ability to behave in such a way while human was astounding. My first thought was that I could not wait to tell Aro, but that was immediately followed with the danger of doing so presently. Once she was turned, then we could discuss a trip to Italy. Next, my own reaction to Mrs. Lemich at New Years came to mind. In a manner, after my encounter with her I had been akin to a dog pissing on an object to demonstrate my territory. Esme had, of course, immediately commented on how I had done such a thing. It was no way to treat her from my beliefs of what it meant to be a gentleman, yet doing so had calmed the beast part of me straight away.
Aware of the risk, but unwilling to leave Esme in the dark anymore, I looked over to her and said, "You know how the virus I carry prohibits me from procreating?"
She looked bewildered like my words made no sense. Nevertheless, she confirmed, "Yes."
"When I lived with a community of others with the virus those that were bonded as we exhibit feel like your describing and exhibit behaviours of possessiveness," I told her.
Her eyes got wide, "Have I caught your virus then?"
Putting my hand on her knee, I attempted to calm her worry, "No, but it seems that even though you do not have the virus you are responding to me in our bond in a similar way to what I observed."
She scrunched her face in thought, and eventually asked, "What does that mean, Carlisle?"
Taking in a deep breath, I confessed, "That your feelings have pulled you more into my world and away from other humans than we could have predicted."
She looked at me critically, and then after a while stated, "This bothers you."
Considering her assertion critically, I finally replied, "A little, but mostly I am in awe, feel blessed, and scared to lose you."
"You still have not shared your feelings on these matters," she pointed out.
Smiling in appreciation of her quick mind, I shared, "It is unsettling to me, as I do not like things that I cannot predict, as you know. At the same time, I find myself wondering how I could have doubted the hand of God in our lives. Thus, I feel slightly chastised for my lack of faith."
She pursed her lips and asked, "How so?"
"A priest I heard give a homily stated that faith was trusting in things unseen. At each step between us, I have wanted facts in which to base my decisions and feel confident with my choice. If I had trusted your wisdom and had more faith in God's divine plan, then I would not have taken you through this long formidable journey of discovery based on my fears."
Her sad smile was in contrast to her glimmering eyes as she stated, "Perhaps those things are true, my dear Dr. Cullen. However, it is just as equally true that given your father's teachings, you are sceptical and even a touch resistant to blind faith." Then with a teasing look she added, "So, God has given you a patient and loving wife who helps prod you in the direction you need to go."
Smiling broadly back to her, I agreed, "You are a blessing for sure."
Her features turned more serious as she added, "I cannot see anything wrong with your cautious approach to faith. My only encouragement, as you wife, would be to continue trusting your heart. All mind and no heart creates monsters as much as all heart and no mind. I suspect we need both, especially as God has given us both."
Smiling once more, I gushed, "As usual the woman is wise."
We feel into a silence and I began to consider her suggestion that I was becoming a man of faith, just of a different sort to my father. Concurrently, I was considering the ramifications of our bond and her conclusions.
After some time she began to scrutinise me intensely and then blurted out, "Have you come to some sort of conclusion, which you are not sharing nor asked for my input?"
Rubbing my hand up and down her thigh, I told her, "Quite the contrary. In fact, I have come to agree with your request that I give you my virus."
She looked surprised and pleased. After collecting herself she wondered, "Do you have a timeframe in mind?"
"After I have figured out how to do so without it resulting in your death," I stated tersely. "However, I am beginning to consider the possibility that in the future, until we are both infected, we might need to retreat from civilization." Pausing meaningfully, I then added, "At least with others that are infected, they told stories of needing to sequester themselves from everyone else for a while, so that their possessiveness would not be exhibited in a violent way."
She pursed her lips.
Twenty minutes went by before she asked, "Is it possible that the Lemiches are bringing this quality out in us?"
It was like her words created an epiphany that put all the puzzle pieces together. Her mind was incredible.
"Yes, I suspect you are right," I told her with a smile. "Your mind is a glorious thing. I am convinced that it is the most attractive part of you."
She smiled mischievously before asking, "More than my ankles?" as she lifted her nightgown to display them.
Gulping, I answered, "Yes."
"More than my calves?" she asked pulling up the garment a little more.
My mouth opened a little and I replied softly, "Yes."
"More than my thighs?" she pressed while bringing her garment up so that her privates were beginning to be seen.
"Uh-huh," was all I managed.
"More than my arms?" she questioned while taking off her robe.
Becoming a little apprehensive of her teasing, I agreed by nodding.
"More than my neck or breasts?" she asked while taking her arms out of the straps and bringing the garment down so that more than half of her mounds were displayed.
Simply nodding I had otherwise frozen and was holding my breath. Even though this kind of playfulness was new, I was loathed to stop her and possibly cause her to hide her brazen nature once more.
Then, she got up and straddled me with each leg on the outside of mine while the heat from her core pierced through my garments and aroused me. Next, she took the back of my head and brought it towards her until we were kissing. Following, she began moving herself back and forth over me. When she needed breath she added kissing and sucking on my neck and when she was closer to her release moved our bodies so that my mouth was on her mounds. When I felt her body begin to tire my hands went to her hips and helped her continue her motion. It did not take long after that for us both to find our release.
Carrying her to bed, once settled she wrapped herself around me. In the morning when she awoke she smiled at me, said, "Thank you my husband. We should repeat that," and then proceeded to get out of bed.
As usual I stayed and conducted my evaluations. It was only a few minutes later after she had relieved her bladder that I heard her call me.
Concerned, as she had never done do previously, I moved to the washing room, took in a deep breath as a precaution, and knocked.
"Come in," she stated tersely.
When I opened the door she was stark naked.
"I wanted you to see them, so you do not think I am hiding things," she said in a tone that hinted at worry and apprehension.
Initially confused, it only took me a moment to notice the bruising on her hips where I had held her.
Frowning, I remembered her words from the last time she had become bruised.
Working to remain calm, I asked, "Are you in pain?"
She looked weary, but answered, "Not at all."
Walking over to her, I kissed her lips, squatted adding kisses to her bruises, examined them closely concluding that there was no organ damage, returned to standing, and said, "I am glad. Thank you for letting me know. I will endeavour to be more gentle the next time we touch each other in a similar manner."
She smiled widely, kissed me passionately, and replied, "A very good idea, my husband. Now shoo, I need to bathe."
"As you wish," I told her with a little bow.
Leaving the room with mental chastisements strong in my mind, I then suddenly realised that she had been right. We were bound to have these small missteps. She had surprised me and was not injured. Even though I disliked it, in reality the lack of significant harm to her was a manifestation of my love. She trusted me. I trusted her. Together we were leaning into the unknown. Next time there would be no bruises. With that vow I returned to my scent evaluations.
Over the next months we learned to pleasure the other through touch, although she had yet to permit me to explore her nether regions with my fingers. Many a times when Esme lay curled up beside me us both basking in our post-orgasmic bliss I was pressed to imagine anything more sublime. A few times after Esme had left the room and while taking in the air in order to process it, I wondered when she was going to discover that my heart did not beat and ask me about it.
Surprisingly, she never asked to discuss her acquiring the virus, seeming to trust in my promises. Additionally, as we came into the summer and she no longer had work my laboratory investigations all but ended. It was a pleasant gift to discover that she was much more enjoyable company than she had been the past two summers. It was if, finally, married life had come to agree with her. She was no longer grieving the loss of her father or struggling to adjust to what being Mrs. Cullen meant socially or personally.
Throughout our marriage she had regularly corresponded by post with her family, especially her mother, and her friends. Our phone bills told me that she regularly conversed with Dorothy when I was at work, which pleased me. I suspected her mother corresponding more along with her mother's reports of being in higher spirits than Esme had hoped for also aided in boosting her mood. It did not surprise me that Esme feeling more content and satisfied, thereby less worried, over her mother helped her semblance.
Even though the summer was as close to ideal as we had ever achieved, I found myself disappointed. Thus, about mid summer I found the courage to confront her during one of our times of being in the sitting room reading.
"Esme, a while back you stated that you would share a desire of yours if I share one of mine. Is that still the case?"
She looked up at me curious, but hesitant.
When she said nothing more, I continued, "Whether you share with me or not, I need to confess that my mind continues to imagine me touching you as intimately as you have me. You said you would let me know when you were ready and months have passed. I am confused as to why you have not yet granted me permission. Is there a worry keeping you back?"
Her reaction was intense embarrassment.
Disliking how my question had caused her discomfort, I quickly assuaged her, "We do not need to speak on the subject. I was simply concerned and hoping we could share more of what we imagine. My belief was that perhaps through these discussions we could find even more activities that would be safe to do to one another."
My suggestions seemed to have added to her embarrassment, but also peaked her interest. When she had calmed herself I watched as she steadied herself and drew her posture up to a firm sitting position like she had done in our beginnings when she was finding courage.
"Speaking of this seems absolutely grievous," she admitted her eyes watching me carefully.
Considering that I countered, "We are husband and wife. The scriptures state that in this union two shall become one flesh. How else is that to take place without conversation, even regarding topics that would be prohibited with anyone else?"
She contemplated my words before replying, "Maybe some things are never to be spoken?"
Enjoying our debate I rejoined, "As a doctor many things a person never says are required to be spoken about in order to become well. Would that not be the same here? We are discussing the health of an aspect of our marriage."
She looked equally irritated at my argument and pleased at debating such a topic.
"Although unconventional, we seemed to have found a regular way of expressing that aspect of marriage," she retorted.
"True," I had to agree. It was certainly greatly more than I could have asked to imagine.
Sagging a little, her gaze turned to her hands rather than me and she enquired, "Are you unsatisfied?"
Surprised she would think such a thing, I retorted probably too strongly, "Of course not, Esme."
Looking up at me once more she uttered gently, "Then why do you want to know?"
A little flustered myself, I eventually admitted, "I like having your hand on me in that manner. It gives me a sense of being connected to you that I enjoy. I had assumed that with time you would want to experience the same in your own way. Yet, you have not. It has been long enough that I have begun to worry and be concerned. Also, I would be remiss to not add that I had been looking forward to touching you in this way. But I do not want my desires to dictate what you wish to share with your body."
Her mouth opened a little and she stuttered, "I am denying you?"
"I did not say that," I retorted.
At a whisper she repeated her words like she had not heard me and that the idea had never passed her mind. She seemed to be in a stupor, so I chose to give her space and went back to my reading. Eventually I felt her raise her eyes to me.
"I had not considered that you might wish to touch me in this way," she admitted softly.
Then, it was my turn to be surprised. When I found my voice, it was dripping with astonishment, "Why would I not want to have the honour of touching such an intimate part of you, of assisting you finding release by my own hand? Had you not experienced images of touching me before you acted upon it?"
She looked incredibly uncomfortable when she muttered, "Well, when you put it that way."
Collecting myself, I reminded her, "Please my Miss Platt do not act for my sake, but for your own. Simply know that I would be honoured whenever you would feel comfortable."
Considering this she confessed, "I might never be comfortable."
Slightly surprised by her answer, I tried to find words that would allow me to understand without upsetting her. Finally I chose to ask, "Can you tell me why?"
After she took in a deep breath she admitted, "I suspect it will be one of those things in which you will passionately disagree."
"Do you fear my passion?" I wondered.
Smiling slightly she replied, "No, but I felt the need to warn you."
"Duly noted," I confirmed excited to hear her thoughts on this manner. Then, when she did not speak, I added, "I vowed to keep you from harm and that the violence in which I am capable would not be used against you. I hope you know that irrelevant of your words, the worst that would happen is me walking away for a time."
She nodded slightly, and then stiffening herself once more, she seemed to become prepared for what she was about to do.
"In my mind this is clear, but it does not stop years of education on proper decorum," she confessed at a whisper.
Knowing the truth of her sentiment in my own way, I put my hand on her leg below her knee in an attempt to comfort her.
Eventually she found her voice and informed me, "I was taught that my duty was to bring pleasure to my husband."
Considering what she said and also what she implied, I pointed out, "But when we are together you find your own release."
She looked down flustered and at a whisper uttered, "Those come from my own effort or as a side product of your pleasure. To request you to do something solely for my pleasure seems taboo or something, like it is a dirty thing that only loose women would do."
Frowning, I considered her era's beliefs and what she had already told me about her education regarding her role as a wife. Her words seemed to match what she had been told. More importantly, I had no idea of how to contradict such messages.
Eventually I asked, "Would it help if I told you why I disagree?"
Oddly she looked tired like she had run a marathon. It took a while, but eventually she admitted, "I am curious."
Taking that as a sign to proceed, I told her, "First, I believe that all parts of what God has created is meant for good. Each animal helps keep the balance of our earth and it is a cycle in which we all depend. This is true of the human body. Each part works in harmony with the others. I cannot imagine a creator that made good things giving women the ability to enjoy pleasure from their husbands only to make it a sin."
She looked at me carefully like my words were distrustful. Then curtly, making it clear that the conversation was over, she informed me, "I shall consider it."
"Thank you, my wife," I replied knowing my words had gotten to her and sensing that pushing her more would not be prudent.
A few days later as we sat reading, she asked me, "Are the neighbours still wagging their tongues about us?"
Putting down my book, I looked at her wondering what had brought on such a question. Nothing in her countenance offered me a satisfactory indictation, so I decided to indulge whatever had brought this on, even though sharing such a thing seemed like a betrayal of confidences.
After reviewing my memory, I answered, "Almost never, except for the rare busy body who speaks of our odd ways or expresses fake concern about your lack of a pregnancy."
Almost absent minded, she stated, "Well, that is good."
She returned to her book like she had never spoken, but her question with her lack of explanation for requesting such information had rattled my brain, so I eventually interrupted her and asked, "Why did you ask?"
She paused before answering, "You had said that eventually people move on and the gossip stops. It is the first summer where I do not feel everyone watching me the moment I walk out of the door. I had assumed it had nearly ended, but thought to gain confirmation."
Nodding in appreciation of her candour, I went back to read, but then my mind kept ruminating over her words.
Almost an hour later I asked her, "Do you like it here?"
Her initial reaction was to frown and to appear sad. Then her features more resembled peace.
She looked up at me and with a slight smile told me, "It was a difficult adjustment at first. City living is nothing like farm life or being at college. Teaching here is nothing like it was to teach in the schoolhouse. The wives committee has brought friendly faces and unexpected challenges. I do not possess here the close friendships of home or school. Being a doctor's wife and yours especially places me apart. Our lack of children tells other women that there is something wrong with me and they are loathed to get too close to me in case they catch it. The women here are more guarded and spiteful than I am accustomed. So, in all I would say that it is not my favourite place." Pausing as if for emphasis, she then said, "Nevertheless, it is an easy burden to bear when I consider that it is the cost of being your wife. It is only a place, Carlisle. You made it clear from the beginning that your life prohibited you from settling down permanent roots. I chose you. You are my home. Location matters little in contrast to the marriage we have. Not only do I have no complaints regarding the relationship we have formed, I am grateful beyond belief."
Hearing the earnestness of her speech, I replied simply, "I wish being my wife did not request you to give up so much. Nonetheless, I am pleased to hear that the burdens of this city pales in comparison to your joy."
She smiled broadly and reminded me, "No place is ideal. No situation lacks challenge. It is the nature of life for God to test us."
Smiling back, I could do nothing but agree. In fact, it dawned on me that the lack of challenges was a portion of what had led to my melancholy before her appearance in my life. God's creatures were designed to strive and grow from the trees to the ants to the mountain lion. It then dawned on me how vampire nature made having the elements required for striving more difficult than human nature. In a way their fragility and short lives offered them more opportunities to test themselves and to find purpose than ours.
Suddenly, like a flash, it then came to me that these elements also made having faith harder for me than them. There was so little in life before Esme, except for resisting blood, that could stretch me in such a way that requested I step into the unknown. Maybe this was, in part, what cause most of my kind to scoff at the idea of God and faith. Instead, they saw themselves in a semi-god-like state. Then like a lamp being blown out, I found peace with my struggles with faith. The Almighty had been good enough to not only give me this life, so that I might find Esme, but also bring her into my life in such a way that allowed me to struggle and need to have faith. It was nearly as miraculous as her being my mate. For days afterwards I found myself in awe and swimming in gratitude.
After that conversation many weeks passed. We were nearing the end of summer when we were walking to an outdoor music performance and Esme asked, "Did you mean what you said?"
Momentarily confused I asked, "On what topic?"
With barely a breath she said, "Women's pleasure."
Without pause I answered, "Absolutely." When she said nothing more, I added, "Watching you enjoy yourself, the expressions you make, how you respond is absolute bliss. Selfishly I want more."
We nodded at our neighbours who had also come out. Venturing a little closer to the trees than we usually did, we both seemed to want to sit apart from others.
When we were settled Esme divulged her words barely making themselves to my ears, "I feel the same way, except in reverse. Being with you in this way and watching you respond to what I do is immensely intense. A part of me wants to do it every day all day long, but I mind your words about the danger of impulses."
For a while neither of us said anything. I enjoyed having her near me, how she revelled in my natural coolness in a vain attempt to keep her temperature down, her warmth and scent surrounding me, all while listening to a beautiful orchestra. These picnics had quickly become my favourite part of summer.
Out of the blue Esme stated, "Dr. and Mrs. Lemich have been travelling all summer, something to do about a European tour. No doubt they both have found love interests in which to entertain themselves all the while pretending to the other that they are faithful."
Scowling I asked, "Do you really believe such gossip?"
She frowned and stated, "I was being malicious for my own reasons and repeated no gossip."
"Ah," I allowed. "Well, in that case, the nurses' gossip and your verbal denigrations are the same."
Her frown deepened. "I apologise, Carlisle. I did not intend to be vicious. I am still appalled at their behaviour and glad to have them gone. Forgive me."
"Easily," I replied with a smile. Then, leaning into her ear I whispered, "I suspect you are not too far off, but you did not hear that from me."
Covering her mouth to hide her giggles, she swatted my chest gently like she was trying to admonish me.
We spoke about light things for the rest of the evening and enjoyed the music. It was incredible how much having Esme with me changed my satisfaction after such events.
The sun had set, so Esme hung on my arm while I carried the picnic basket back home.
A few blocks from the house she leaned into me and whispered, "I have imagined you touching me in my nether regions so many times since our discussion that I feel as if I might combust. Nevertheless, if you are certain that you too will enjoy this deed, then let us try, but I am still not certain I can get comfortable with such an act."
Leaning over and kissing her crown, I beamed with excitement and proclaimed quietly, "I am certain."
"Heal, my dear doctor," she teased me.
It was at her words that I realised how I had sped up my steps. Chuckling at my eagerness, I slowed down and confessed, "Perhaps I am too eager?"
She smiled delighted and after a moment agreed, "One of us should be."
"You are not being led to the gallows," I pointed out.
Nodding like she agreed, she asked, "How did you feel before the first time?"
Realising how similar her reactions were to mine, I told her, "Apprehensive and excited, and you certainly remember my reaction afterwards, but after a few times almost no concerns remained. Surprisingly, it has become something I look forward to as much as the other things we do."
Pressing her hand deeper into my arm she said nothing more, but a small smile entered her face.
After we were enclosed into our entryway, Esme took the basket to the kitchen. I waited for her at the bottom of the stairs.
When she came I put out my hand and told her, "Trust that I will care for you."
"Till the end of our days?" she whispered.
"Till the sun expires," I voiced softly back.
Fortunately, it seemed that she had not heard my reply, and said nothing more as I led her up the stairs.
A/N: On short notice I got requested to cover lecturing a class for a professor at the Uni where I just graduated, but still have no long term employment. Would you believe that the lecturing position pays a little less than $12 an hour. So, much for the benefits of a PhD. :-(
Thank you to everyone who has left a note and encouraged me to keep writing! I appreciate each of you!