I don't wait for us to move, or for him to kiss me. I lean forward just an inch – maybe even less – and barely touch his lips with mine. Because maybe he was right. Maybe talking less isn't such a bad idea. And it's especially not a bad idea when his hands come up and cup my face. And this, this was definitely missing earlier this morning because the face cupping along with his fingers sliding just into my hair… well, it's almost as amazing as the kiss.

Almost.

Although, I quickly realize that there's so much more to kissing Edward than just the press of our lips, and the pounding of my heart. It's also the way he sucks as he kisses, like he's seeking something deeper, something more. It's almost as if he feels like there's a secret hidden all the way back inside my mouth, and his tongue is trying to find it. And I open up more to let him. Because even though there's no secret that I know of, the way his tongue brushes and strokes mine… I pretty much want as much of that as possible.

And he gives it.

He's really fucking generous.

I think we kiss for an hour…or maybe just several uninterrupted minutes.

I'm not exactly sure when it happens, but the table becomes an obstacle – it's too much space between us. He stands up, but he takes me with him as he goes. And I don't stop him, but I don't let him let me go, either. I'm not ready to stop. I don't know what I am ready to do next, but if it involves his lips leaving mine, I'm totally against it.

Only, that's exactly what he does. He pulls me all the way up against him, and his mouth leaves mine. But before I can protest or complain, he buries his face in my neck. And the combination of his breath, hot and wet against my ear and his beard brushing against my skin, makes me forget that there was anything to complain about.

"This is better," he tells me. "The table was in the way."

"I hate that table," I tell him, laughing. Although, I'm not sure if I'm laughing at my ridiculous words or the fact that his beard is rubbing my neck and making me shiver all over. But the laughing feels good – everything about this feels so fucking good and right and, Jesus… Why haven't we been doing this the whole time?

"You're ticklish," he says.

"No I'm not," I lie, but the words die out as he presses his open mouth against my neck.

It's possible that I moan in a supremely unladylike fashion. And then, I grip his shoulders a whole lot harder than is really necessary. But he doesn't seem to mind, in fact, he just keeps doing what he's doing and driving me crazy in the process.

"I kind of love that you're ticklish," he says, licking me. Like, he just licked me. Well, my neck. And now he's biting down just a little.

And oh, fuck….

"I kind of love you like this."

At my words, he stills. It's only for a second, and it takes me a minute to realize what I've just said because of his tongue and teeth and how good this all feels. And seriously, did I just tell him that I love him?

Well, not technically.

But guys are weird about shit like this. And I mean, we only started kissing today – moments ago, really. Unless you count early this morning, which why wouldn't I count that? After all, it was amazing until the lights came back on.

I'm so busy panicking, that I don't even realize he's kissing my neck again. And then, mercifully, my mouth. I can't say stupid shit when my tongue is otherwise occupied. Maybe I panicked too quickly. Maybe he doesn't mind what I said, or it's possible he didn't even hear it because he was busy torturing me with his tongue.

But of course, I'm wrong.

I'm always wrong.

"Like what?" he asks.

"Like what, what?" I know I shouldn't feign ignorance, but I'm mostly mortified that I basically told him I loved him the first real time we kissed. Well, technically the second.

"You said you loved me like this," he says, pulling back, and looking down at me with those goddamn, gorgeous green eyes. And even though they're not angry, they're still filled with fire. "And I was wondering what it is I'm doing that you love." He smiles, just before kissing me quick on the lips. "Because whatever it is, I wanna make sure I keep doing it."

"Oh," I tell him. "Oh." Relief floods me. I feel it like a palpable, tangible thing that touches every part of my body and mind. And then I just continue, "Just this…you know? This is so much better than…well, everything before this."

"Everything like the yelling?" he asks, smiling.

"Mmm," I hum, kissing him quick, soft. Amazed by how relaxed I am by the fact that he doesn't think I'm some desperate, lonely girl who goes around telling men she loves them at really inappropriate times. "And the bossing me around."

"I thought you said you didn't mind that."

He takes my hand and leads me into his living room, back to the couch where all of this first started in the first place.

"I thought you said you knew I was lying about that."

"I did." He grins. "And I was right. But for all I know, you could be lying right now. Maybe you like the yelling and the bossing more than you're letting on."

"No."

"Maybe."

"Absolutely not."

His hands run up and down my back, before setting on my ass. I mean, seriously, his hands are on my ass.

"So, talking is better than yelling?"

"So much better."

"And kissing is better than bossing?"

"Yeah," I tell him, blushing. Maybe from his words or his hands, but probably both.

He sits down and pretty much pulls me down on top of him. It's not vulgar or anything. I mean, I'm not straddling him like a porn star. I'm just in his lap, while we have this ridiculous, wonderful, best-ever-in-the-world conversation. And the best part, aside from sitting on the very handsome man's lap while we have this bizarre conversation, is the fact that nothing about it feels awkward.

"Then maybe I should just keep kissing you."

"Maybe you should."

"All day."

"Until our lips are numb."

His smile is perfect.

"Bella?"

"Yeah?"

"I still hate that I yelled at you, but is it bad that I'm sort of happy you fell and basically gave yourself a concussion?"

His voice makes it sound like a joke, but his eyes tell me that there's a seriousness hidden inside his question.

"I can't lie. The possible concussion sucked," I tell him, leaning in to kiss him gently. "But don't worry. I've been slowly coming to my senses ever since."

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Well, only one more to go. And it will post tomorrow on Christmas Eve. Thank you for reading, and for loving these two as much as I have.

Jaime, Kourt, Laura, and Raina - ILY. A whole lot more than I can express here. But that doesn't stop me from trying.

And Marvar is actually the reason y'all get and epi. This was going to be the last one, be she demanded it. You can thank her.

See you in tomorrow! I hope you stay safe and warm on this busy day before the holiday.

Reviews are love.

xo