**Part Two** Many, many thanks to Vagabonda, Beachcomberlc and IpsitaC77. Without them, there would be no story worth reading.

Chapter 25

Edward all but lunged across the bed, hovering over his bride, joy and relief playing across his face.

"You had me worried. I thought maybe you changed your mind and wouldn't let me … um … well?"

"Let you?'' Bella paused.

When his only response was to blush, she continued softly prompting him.

"Let you what, Edward?"

She felt confused, but not wanting to embarrass him further, kept her questions gentle. Bella thought they would be exploring each other. She wanted to touch Edward, to kiss him and spend time in his arms, loving him. Wouldn't he want the same thing?

Bella wondered if perhaps he thought she wasn't supposed to participate in making love. She had heard some old-fashioned men liked their women to be as still as a statue, but didn't think Edward was that type; Bella didn't think she could be that type even if he demanded it of her. She already felt far too keyed up to just lie there with her eyes closed, pretending she wasn't aching for this man.

"Bella? Ah … how much do you know about … about the ... um … here, now?"

Edward gulped, his eyes sweeping around the room, trying to indicate nighttime activities without having to say the words aloud. He hadn't figured there would be a lot of talking involved with the activities he had planned. In fact, he hadn't planned on any talking at all.

Hoping to quell the apprehension she heard in his voice and to bolster her own courage, Bella ran her fingers up and down his chest in comfort. Edward rolled to her side, resting his hip on the bed, but still covering her with his upper body. Bella resumed her massage of his shoulders and arms with long, gentle caresses. She told him what she knew, trying to keep any nerves from her voice.

First, she mentioned the theoretical knowledge she had gained by living in close quarters in tents with noisy neighbours. Bella then spoke of the stern, joyless lecture a local matron had given her at her father's insistance when she began courting. And finally, in a faltering voice with some reluctance, Bella told him about the more colourful things she overheard from the painted ladies at the saloon comparing customers and experiences.

Bella wasn't sure what to expect from tonight, but surely something better, more loving than what she had pieced together in her mind. She loved Edward; just being this close to him was far above and beyond anything she had imagined for her first experience with a husband.

While she spoke, Edward began peppering her upper chest, neck and throat with soft kisses, his hands never leaving her breasts. Bella had trouble concentrating on what she was saying, losing her train of thought to the pleasure running through her body. Her fingers gripped and grasped as much of him as she could touch; his skin smooth, so soft and warm. Firm muscles rippled under her hands, and feelings of pride mixed with elation and satisfaction—this was her man and he was strong and virile.

Edward took delight every time Bella's breathing stuttered and her words faltered—it meant he was having an effect on her. In turn, listening to her sighs was having a wonderful effect on him. The more she talked and the huskier her voice became, the more he needed to kiss and touch her, and the more his want of her grew.

Deciding she wasn't going to run screaming from the room once he made further advances, Edward moved so that his hips rested flush against hers. He held himself up with his elbows and kissed his way from the base of her throat to her lips. Much to his utter delight, Bella moved her legs to either side of his, holding him in place, possessing him. If it weren't for her bloomers, at this moment he'd be the happiest man in the world.

Leaning on one elbow, he trailed his hand down to the ruffled edge of her underdrawers. Bella squirmed and writhed, as much as she was able with his weight on her. He found the strings that kept the garment closed and played with the bow there. Edward looked deep into her eyes, silently asking for her approval. Bella nodded her assent and he tugged at the strings, loosening them just enough, then moving away slightly to give her room. Bella reached down and shimmied the fabric away from her legs.

Wanting to savour the experience, Edward took his time. He kissed Bella with all the passion and love in his heart, hoping it would be enough to bring her at least a fraction of the pleasure he felt. Relations had always held a small amount of guilt for him. It seemed so unfair to the female of the species; they just stood or lay there, waiting for it to be over while the male fumbled around their nether regions. Congress with his late wife brought pleasure only to him, and he tried to make it up to her any way he could, but Rachel found the entire thing to be a chore.

Edward had hoped against hope that Bella would be more receptive, and now he knew, for certain, she was. He found places on Bella's body he could touch or kiss that would help her enjoy their time together, her reactions and noises helping lead his way. The soft hollow behind her ear, when kissed, caused a shiver of delight. Her earlobes themselves, when gently bitten or sucked, brought a gasp or whimper of pleasure. The neck, the jaw, the throat, all had their claim for both their enjoyment.

To be allowed unfettered access to Bella's naked chest was pure bliss. Soft breasts and taut nipples to be touched in the flesh—not touched through fabric, but to be thoroughly explored with his eyes and his hands. He wondered if, perhaps one day, she'd allow him to kiss the soft skin of her breast—to put his mouth there, to trace every inch, every divot and slope of this glorious part of her. Her firm nipples felt so lovely in his hand, pressed against his palm or between his fingers, he could only imagine how marvellous they would feel between his lips or against his tongue.

Edward did everything he could to distract his wife, his Bella, from the discomfort of the act he so wanted to engage in with her. By concentrating his efforts on her upper body, he hoped she would ignore what he was about to attempt with the most secret, tender part of her. He did feel fairly certain he wouldn't have to wait for her express permission. With every new, exciting response from her to his attentions, he was sure he would be allowed.

Once Edward knew she was engaged, breathless and flush, he closed his eyes and took himself in hand. He tenderly pressed himself inside her body, hoping she would allow him intimate access. Edward was elated when Bella allowed her knees to fall to the side, showing him she was not only receptive but eager for their lovemaking. Inch-by-inch, he slid inside her, feeling no constriction trying to push him out, only a soft, welcoming warmth engulfing, loving him. Edward forced himself to hold still for a moment before moving as he wished. He was a hungry man, bordering on starvation for this woman; all-consuming was the love he had for her, and it served to fuel his desires. He paused until Bella's fingers loosened their grip on his shoulders. He would try to make the experience as brief and painless as possible for her, but still, he strove to have his own enjoyment.

He felt Bella's hand as it travelled the length of his back, before firmly grabbing his left buttock. His eyes flew open when she touched him and Edward couldn't help but stare down at her in wonder. Her face was awash with bliss. Flushed and dewy, Bella had her bottom lip tucked firmly between her teeth and her moans hadn't lessened. She seemed to not only tolerate the act, but to be enjoying herself as well. Her hands clasped and released him, stroking and soothing his heated skin in a shivery, teasing manner. Edward closed his eyes and gave into delicious sensation.

As he moved slowly forward, she gasped; as he withdrew some, she sighed. After a few moments everything changed—Bella was moving with him, raising her hips to met his as he pushed forward. His breath caught in his throat in a stuttered groan and he looked at her with confusion. He withdrew, thinking he had mistaken her actions somehow. When he pressed forward, she did it again.

"Oh! My word! Bella, what are you doing?" He groaned, barely able to gather the breath necessary to talk. He'd never felt so much at one time. His legs tingled with exertion, his stomach clenched and there was a fierce intensity of heat running down his spine, the strength of which he'd yet experienced.

After a low, long moan, Bella kissed his lips and softly, breathlessly answered.

"Enjoying you."

Arching her hips in response, she drew him in close, raising one leg higher and wrapping it around his thigh. Edward was able to slide deeper within her, and reaching a new intensity, he stuttered an oath he had never before said in the presence of a lady. When Bella moaned the same word a moment later, Edward was lost. His love, his wife was holding him tightly as every muscle of his body sang. His head swam as bursts of light danced beneath his eyelids. His heart galloped in his chest and there wasn't enough air in the world to fill his lungs. He pressed his cheek to her shoulder, burying his face in her neck and gave in to his pleasure, finding his completion.

Bella lay cocooned under her husband, feeling heady and happy. This joining, finally coming together in making her his wife in every way, far exceeded her imagination and what she had been led to expect. Edward's hands were tender and loving, eliciting pleasures she hadn't expected, his lips and kisses sublime. The pain was nowhere near as severe as what she'd been told to expect. She felt tingly all over, slick and just a bit sore. Tiny jolts of static-laced shocks rolled about her body, concentrating deep within her. Crescendoing, rhythmic pulses that teased and flirted across her skin had started soon after Edward began to thrust and she was delighted; she wanted them to go on forever. She could only imagine how wondrous it would feel if all those little pulses came together in one huge zenith.

Edward's breath was hot on her neck as he lay prone on top of her. Bella held him as tightly as she could, not wanting these luxurious sensations to leave. She felt wanted and loved, delicate and feminine; womanly. She hoped it would never wane, this complex jumble of emotion that winnowed down to one all-encompassing feeling—love.

Wondrously spent, Edward finally raised his head and kissed Bella soundly. He rolled to the side and slid his arm under her neck, hitching the covers over the both of them. He hadn't noticed them sliding off until he started to grow chilled in the night air. He was overjoyed when Bella turned on her side to face him, slowly running her foot up and down his calf. The fact that she still wanted him to touch her and actually sought to touch him, Edward found joyously incredible.

His kisses grew lazy as he tired, his eyes closing for longer and longer periods of time. The events of the day, the anger and the joy, the fight and then finding each other again had tapped the last of his reserves. With Bella tracing her hand across his cheek, humming a gentle tune, Edward gave in to his exhaustion, but not before mumbling once again, 'I love you, Bella'.

Bella watched Edward as he fell asleep. She brushed her fingers over his brow again and again before placing her hand on his chest, taking care to be gentle with the bruising and gash around his eye. She felt his heart beating, a strong, steady rhythm to match her own. He looked so peaceful, even the bruised skin could not detract from his handsome face. The corner of his mouth was curled in a slight grin.

Not wanting to disturb him, she waited until Edward was well and truly asleep before shimmying out of his hold. She didn't really want to leave his embrace. Bella loved the feeling of being held by him, but he was hot and making her feel sticky. After pulling a nightgown from her bag on the floor, she opened the bedroom door for some light. She quickly donned the gown and left the door ajar. Silently, she tiptoed to the kitchen for a drink and a wash. She added a couple of small logs to the fire and waited while the kettle warmed.

Bella paced the kitchen floor, waiting for the water. The muscles in her thighs and rear were stiff, but overall she felt more than content; she felt loved.

As the kettle began to steam, Bella found herself in front of the small looking glass by the door. She stared at her own face for a moment. She didn't think she looked vastly different now than she had earlier in the day. But she felt older, more mature and worldly. Her eyes were a bit brighter, perhaps.

She ran her hand over her cheek and swept her fingers across her lips, remembering kisses and feelings from just an hour before. There were tender patches along her jaw where Edward's beard had rubbed. Bella took a step closer to the mirror and examined the burn marks. There was hardly anything to notice and any traces would be gone by morning.

Her hair was messed around her head with wild curls. She didn't miss the braid or the heft of her long hair at all. There was a newfound kind of freedom in the face staring back at her. There was a certainty as well; she knew she was no longer a servant, and she never would be one again. She was a wife. Edward's wife. Her face beamed with delight.

Bella poured a small bowl of hot water, tempering with cold until it was the perfect temperature for a sponge bath. Wetting a small square of flannel, she pressed it to her face. She drew it across her neck, finding a few more tender places that stung ever so slightly. LIfting her hair from the back of her neck she rid herself of most the the sticky feelings that were keeping her awake.

She rinsed the cloth and lifted up her nightgown to clean between her legs. She could feel her cheeks flush, remembering the feel of Edward between them.

When Bella rinsed the cloth again there was a small streak of blood that tinged the water pink. The loss of her maidenhood was nowhere near as bad as she had been warned. The way the married lady at the camp told it, she expected to be torn in two, screaming in pain and barely clinging to life for lack of blood after her first time. Yes, there had been a few moments of burning pain, but it was more a stinging kind of feeling than a rending-in-two.

Nor had it been a disgusting, arduous task as some of the … more experienced ladies had described it. Bella found her face heating at remembering how she'd felt in Edward's arms. His skin hot against hers; his hands, his mouth. The taste of salt on her tongue. Those peppery little shocks that danced deep inside her as if he were kindling sparks within her.

But it was also not as explosive as she had overheard it could be. A flitting memory entered her mind. At the saloon, there was a woman known as Screaming Martha. Martha could often be heard from the street, enthusiastically hollering in delight when upstairs entertaining a customer.

As a kitchen worker in the cafe just down the street from the saloon, Bella could hear the screams when she was outside at the pump getting water or taking out the scraps. The cafe allowed the whores to buy food solely at noon-time and only through the back door; they weren't even allowed to enter the restaurant. So Bella would listen to them gossip from the protection of the pantry, as her father and the owner had insisted she hide whenever the loose women came by.

The girls would tease Martha, asking if she was faking it. Faking what, Bella didn't know, but she was intrigued. Poor Martha, they would laugh at her when she told them her screams were real and from pleasure. Screaming Martha didn't come to the cafe often; she was always in high demand at the saloon. Bella was forced to leave town shortly after listening to that conversation, otherwise she may have gotten some answers to her questions.

Her quick bath over, Bella tossed the water and hung the cloth to dry. Slipping back into the room, she found Edward in the exact same position she had left him. She had been gone from her husband's side for far too long; she missed him. She eased herself under the covers and into his sleeping arms. Edward pulled her close and mumbled her name before smacking his lips. Trying not to wake him with her laughter, Bella nestled down with her back to him and closed her eyes. Sleep overtook her quickly.

AN: A little nod to John Irving's The Hotel New Hampshire. This story is loosely based on the film, Rachel and The Stranger, RKO Radio Pictures c. 1948.

Thank you for reading.