Chapter 25

When I was a little girl – probably around seven years old – Charlie took two weeks off during the summer and we went to Florida. We spent two weeks in the sun doing nothing but going to the beach and Disney World. I'm certain he hated it, but I loved it. Every minute. It has always been the best two weeks of my life until now.

Two weeks have passed since Edward took me on our second date.

And the last two weeks have been amazing.

Edward is amazing. He's funny and sweet and so, so smart. He's also kind of a nerd, which is mostly adorable and hot. He loves science fiction – Heinlein in particular – and listening to him talk about it one night made me want to read the book. Well, listening to him, seeing his eyes bright and green and animated, and watching him hold the paperback in his hands like it was something important. It all worked together. And I read it.

He was right.

It was brilliant.

Everything has been so easy. Every conversation, every touch, every kiss…just everything. When he's not working, he's with me. And when he is, I'm generally with him. At least for a little while. Spending time with him never gets old and I find that even when I'm not with him…I want to be.

But tonight, I am with him.

After walking around Port Angeles for a couple hours, we decide to come back to my house where we can be alone. We end up in my room talking and reading and touching.

"Stay" I whisper, not because I have to, but because the moment suddenly feels quiet. Quiet outside, quiet in my room, quiet breathing and beating hearts between the both of us. "Don't go home. I don't want to say goodnight tonight. I want to say good morning tomorrow instead."

He laughs softly, but agrees, "Okay." There's no hesitation or question in his voice.

Once we're in my bed, he pulls me back against his bare chest. His arms wrap around me and I settle against him. His hand rests on my breast. He holds it there, cupping it in his palm. I don't really think about it because he touches me all the time. I like him touching me all the time.

"Can I ask you a question?" My voice is small because I've been thinking about this for a while now. And I haven't really known how to bring it up.

"You can ask me anything"

"Do you ever...you know...think about what's gonna happen when we have to go back to school?"

He sighs, but he holds me closer and his hand doesn't ever leave my breast.

"I do. I think about it a lot, actually."

"Yeah?" I ask. "And what do you...think about?"

He presses a kiss to my neck. It's warm and soft and makes me shiver.

"I think that five hours is too far away from you," he murmurs in my ear, "but...I think we can handle it. I mean, you're all I want, and I'm not ready to let you go. Unless..."

Unless what?

I tense.

"Unless, you want me to let you go, and then I would."

His voice sounds sad and I don't want that.

Not his sad voice and not any talk of him letting me go.

"I don't want that," I tell him quickly. "No. Just...just the thought of that is unacceptable. Don't even say that, okay?"

I turn in his arms and press my lips against his neck and cheeks and lips. And my reaction makes him smile even as I kiss him.

His hands slide down my back, scratching softly before settling on my ass.

"Okay. I don't want that, either. Not ever," he tells me sincerely. "If I wasn't a senior, I'd transfer, but that's impossible now. One year. We can handle anything for one year."

This feeling of peace just settles around us. Because he's right. I know he's right. It is just a year and it's really not that far.

And he wants this to work between us.

He wants me for more than just the summer.

"Did you know that you're like better than Mickey Mouse?"

I grin, and he laughs. But I can tell that my abrupt change in subject has confused him.

"I don't know about that. Mickey is pretty damn cool."

"No, really. My happiest memory is of Mickey. Well, it was...but not anymore."

"What's your happiest memory now?

I blush.

It's still surprising to me that I am capable of blushing around him.

"I don't know if I can narrow them all down," I tell him because it's the truth. "But all of them have been in the last three weeks."

"Mine, too. But we're going to make lots of happy memories, Bella."

He kisses me again.

"I know," I tell him, tracing his lips with my finger. "Did you...I don't know… Did you expect anything like this to happen? This...whatever this is between us?"

"No, especially not this fast. But I refuse to question it. It's the real thing. I know it is."

"Yeah...seven years or seven days." I laugh softly. "We were closer to the seven days. Sometimes I think that it's kind of fast...the way I feel for you. But I feel it. And I know the time doesn't matter."

He looks at me for a long moment.

"Can I tell you a secret?" he whispers.

"I like secrets."

"It didn't even take me seven hours to fall in love with you."

I'm so taken by his words, I don't know if I can even form my own.

All I know is the way my heart pounds and slows at the same time. The way my body, heart and mind sync up in exact time and agreement with each other.

My face flushes.

So does my body.

"You know I love you, too, right?" I whisper.

"I do now."

I don't even think about it as I sit up, looking down at him and lifting his shirt over my head. I don't even feel exposed as his wide and now-needy eyes look at me. He's seen it all anyway. All of me – inside and out.

"I want you, Edward. All of you…everything."

"You're sure?" his voice is quiet and questioning.

"So, sure…the surest."

He reaches up, fingering my nipples – first one and then the other. I watch as they grow even harder than they were before. I'm fascinated by the sight of his hands on my skin…on me. I lean over him because it feels like the most natural thing in the world – like if he doesn't take me in his mouth I might not survive the night or even this moment.

He doesn't disappoint.

His lifts his head and then he kisses them all over. Soft, sucking kisses that sound louder and different than when he kisses my mouth. He cups them fully, pushing them together as he wets them all over with his tongue. It makes me whimper which turns into a gasping moan as he sucks hard on my nipple.

And I'm watching him do it.

It's the most erotic thing I've ever seen.

I want you, I want you, I want you.

I push back the sheet that's covering his body. I tug on the waist of his boxers as he lifts his hips to help me get them off.

I want him naked like me.

He's hard. And not for the first time, I look at him, examine him up close. Deep red and smooth and extending out from his body. I trail my finger from base to tip, and fascinated, I stoke along the slit of its head, finding it sticky and wet. My eyes shoot to his as he gasps. And my thumb swirls over and over.

"Bella, baby…you're gonna make me…" His hand covers mine and his cock, stopping me. "Come here."

And then he's pulling me to him and pushing me down on the bed. And now he's the one over me, kissing me so wet and deep I can barely stand it. And he's so fucking tender and gentle as I feel his shaking hands roam over my body.

"Don't be nervous," I tell him, breathing words against his neck. "I want this…I want you."

He leans back, kneeling between my legs.

"I want to make this good," he breathes. "But it's your first time and I'm just afraid… Bella, I want to give you your fantasy."

His eyes are striking – all gentle and concerned mixed with need. And this is why I want him – this is why he's the one.

"You are," I breathe, the words slipping out easy because they're so true. "This…you…Edward you are my fantasy."

His eyes search mine for a million moments, and he only finds the truth.

And then his eyes search my body…every inch of my naked body.

Bronze hair fills my fingers that grip too hard as kisses are kissed everywhere – knees and hips and shoulders and neck – all along my belly until I feel warm breath between my legs.

There's one long lick.

And then a thousand little ones.

There are fingers and sucking and feelings I never knew existed. And words like soft and sweet and beautiful. I shake and tremble under his hands and his mouth. I feel myself open for him…grow wet for him….ready for him.

It builds and builds as he pushes my legs out, and when it finally claims me, my back arches up and I cry out words that probably don't even exist and some that do.

So good…

So much…

So, so, so….

Edward…

Because there's nothing else in this moment but him and the way he's making me feel.

And then everything slows like dripping honey into hot tea and he covers me with his body, holding me and kissing me all wet and warm.

He moves and reaches for something in his jeans on the floor. I don't know what it is until I hear the crinkle of foil.

"Are you sure?" he murmurs.

I nod – I can't even speak.

I watch him roll the latex on, and even though I know we need to be safe, a part of me wishes I could feel him bare inside me.

But I know that will come another time.

Many, many more times.

He pulls my hips, dragging me down the bed just slightly and to him. And I see the concern still etched in his face.

"Please," I whisper.

And then he opens me, positions me and himself. He rubs the tip against my still-sensitive skin. But this feels different than his fingers. This feels like more.

And I want more.

And then he pushes. I tense for just a moment, the stinging taking me by surprise. But it's not as bad as I imagined it would be.

And I still want more.

"Lift your hips, baby," he says, his voice tense just like his body. I do, and then, "Just…fuck…just like that."

He leans down to kiss me, his mouth moving, his body still.

"Please," I whimper again. "Please…just move."

And then he does.

He moves so slowly and takes such care that I have to fight the urge to cry because I'm afraid that he will mistake my tears for pain. And while it is uncomfortable, it's also perfect and sweet and so fucking hot to feel him inside me this way.

I clutch at his shoulders and pull him down to me, feeling his weight – it centers me. His body is tense and his movements become jerky. He's biting his lip and I can see him trying so hard to keep himself from coming.

"I'm okay," I tell him. "It doesn't hurt."

And it's not even a lie because the pain isn't really even pain at all.

And then he pushes just a little bit harder, he moves just a little bit faster. And I wrap my legs around him, wanting to keep him this close forever.

I focus on slick sounds of sex and heavy breathing…and the rapid beating of my heart. Until I'm focusing on his voice.

"Bella, oh god," he says as he trembles.

And I wonder if it was like this for him – did he feel it when he knew I was about to come?

"It's okay," I tell him. "Come. Come in me."

Thick and pulsing, I can feel it even through the barrier of the condom. And hearing my name in his voice in my ear is loud and soft and desperate and calm.

All at the same time.

And watching him – seeing that – is better than almost anything.

Because I made him look like that.

I made him sound like that.

I made him feel that way.

He collapses over me, holding me against him and kissing my neck over and over again. There are no real words…only real feelings. And this very real man who has – in the span of a summer – changed me and my life so completely.

He comes back to bed after cleaning up and disposing of the condom. I can't help but smile as he walks toward me. I smile even more when he takes me in his arms, and I rest against his chest…his heart.

I feel as though this moment should remind me of a book, but the truth is – it doesn't.

This is so much better.

I kiss his chest, his warmth seeping into my lips. And I close my eyes, happy in knowing that we were the authors of this moment.

And I would read our words over and over again.

Please leave us some love. Or condoms.