Hello Again Lovely People!
I'm glad last chapter gave you a chuckle. This one may necessitate you fanning yourself vigorously. It is told from Edward's POV, and let me tell you, he is a man on a mission. ;)
xx Elise
~P&P~
Chapter 28
Wonderful
Edward paced, waiting for the clock to strike the half hour. He'd never known minutes to pass so slowly. In fact, the hours since his encounter with Isabella in the garden until they were finally able to retire for the night were some of the longest in his life. They had been sweet in their torment, he admitted, a smile curving his lips. Every glance, every seemingly accidental touch, had increased his desire until anticipation for what was to come throbbed in his veins. Not that his wife had behaved in a manner that could be deemed unacceptable. To the casual observer, they had both maintained an exemplary degree of propriety. Merely knowing what they planned to do when night fell had increased the tension between them to a level that was almost unbearable.
Edward still could not believe his good fortune in finding such a wife. Never in his wildest dreams had he expected to be so blessed.
Should he tell her that he loved her?
Coming out and saying the words seemed fraught with danger. He feared if she understood the thrall in which he was held, she might use that knowledge to sway him into giving her the one thing he dared not . . . a child. His heart ached knowing he could not give her the babe she craved, but he refused to allow himself the indulgence of picturing her with his child in her arms. Such an image could well precede her tragic departure, and he shied away from the possibility at all costs.
The clock chimed, followed in quick succession by his knock at her door and Isabella's calmly spoken, "Enter."
Once again, she was waiting for him, this time dressed in a gown somewhat more chaste than either of the two delectable creations she had chosen before. The fact did not discourage him, for he now knew what lay beneath the soft, billowy fabric, and what was required of him.
The morning spent studying his father's no doubt illegal collection of erotic books had been less informative than he would have preferred. His initial response to the graphic illustrations he had discovered in one of the tomes was shocked disbelief. The explanations were in some form of oriental script, but the explicit images left little to the imagination, depicting a seemingly endless variety of sexual positions and techniques. In contrast, the titillating stories he had found written in English were cloaked in so much euphemism and allegory they had left him almost none the wiser and close to panic. Until he had stopped to consider his purpose.
He wanted to bring pleasure to his wife.
Reminded of his goal, he had focused his attention on gleaning as much as he could about the delicate nature of female arousal and satisfaction. Isabella was a lady, and he doubted her tender, if practical, sensibilities would appreciate the more callisthenic possibilities. But she was also a woman unafraid of her passionate nature, for which he would be forever grateful.
After his morning's study, Edward was reasonably confident he now possessed the knowledge to ensure their next bout of lovemaking was as satisfying for his wife as he knew it would be for him. At least he hoped that was the case. She had assured him she did not need an extended recovery time and wasn't worried about his hurting her. But he would make sure to be both gentle and persistent in his endeavours. From what he had read, he suspected patience was key, as was showing deliberate and prolonged attention to certain aspects of her anatomy, aspects with which he was already well and truly enamoured.
"Good evening, my lord," Isabella said, teasing him with a curtsy.
"My lady." Edward offered his most formal bow, made incongruous by the fact he was dressed in his nightshirt.
The distance between them was unacceptable, and Edward rid them of it immediately. He opened his arms, and Isabella came willingly into his embrace, her head fitting perfectly beneath his chin. With her warm and supple body in his arms, a part of him could have stayed that way all night, just holding her. However, a very specific part of his anatomy had different ideas and was intent on making its presence known.
"Goodness." Isabella pulled back a fraction. "That happens rather quickly. Does it hurt?"
Edward laughed. "Not in the way you mean, although ignoring it for extended periods of time can be a trial."
"I imagine it could be." Leaning back, she looked up into his eyes, her voice dropping to a husky whisper. "It must be a relief not having to ignore your body's needs any longer."
"You have no idea," he murmured before capturing her soft, pink lips. They were such a delight, as was the rest of her. He had not expected to so thoroughly enjoy the act of kissing. If that was all they were permitted—and if the unrequited passion that such activity provoked did not possess the capacity to send him completely insane—he would have been content to kiss his wife for hour after endless hour. But he was allowed to do more, much more, and more importantly, she was eager for him to do so.
In demonstration of her willingness, Isabella ran her hands over his chest and shoulders, even the scarred one to which she seemed quite partial. He shivered at her touch, his smile undeniably smug when she smoothed her hands up his taut belly.
His wife desired him, and it was the most capitol feeling in the world, bar one.
Edward's determination for her to experience the pleasure with him was greater than anything he had ever known. Not even winning on the battlefield had consumed him with quite such intensity, though he imagined his wife might not be flattered by the comparison. When she leaned in close and let her lips brush against his skin, continuing to press her hips firmly and deliberately forward, his thoughts spun into disarray. Realising he was in danger of forgetting his goal of seeing her fully satisfied before the night was out, he refocused his attention. While he supposed he could accomplish the task he had set himself after taking his own pleasure, he was determined to show he could be chivalrous in every area of their lives.
His initial objective was to convince her to trust him even more than she had the night before, the first step in that process motivating his request. After taking a moment to nuzzle her neck, something she seemed to appreciate as much as he did, he whispered against her ear. "I know it's unorthodox, but I would very much like to divest you of your nightgown, if you wouldn't mind?"
Isabella froze, much as he had expected her to. Then she pulled back to meet his gaze.
"It did get in the way last time," she said, but when he moved to unlace her bodice, she stilled his hand with her own. "On one condition." She licked her lips, leaving a glistening trail of moisture coating her plump, lower lip.
"Anything," he said hoarsely.
"That you remove your clothing also."
Edward was more than willing to be naked with his wife, but not above a smidgen of teasing.
"But you've already seen me without my clothes. Numerous times, I might add."
"Not like this."
Isabella eyes darkened, and he stifled his smirk of satisfaction.
"Very well." He pulled his nightshirt over his head then reached for the ties on his undergarments.
"Wait." She took a step backwards with her hand outstretched.
Her sudden apprehension was palpable, and he deemed the time for games was over.
"Shall I douse the extra lights first?" he asked.
She nodded jerkily.
As soon as he had done so, he collected her from where she remained frozen in the middle of the room and led her to the bed. The covers were pulled down, and he debated his next move. He could wait until the sheets were drawn over them to completely undress, but he very much wanted to see her in the light if she would allow it. As if sensing his indecision, Isabella touched his shoulder.
"I'm all right now," she said. "It was just a momentary panic. You saw most of me last night anyway, and I would very much like to see all of you, so . . ."
Slowly and deliberately, she raised her hands to undo the tie that held her bodice closed. Once it was loosened, she lifted a trembling hand to slide the sleeves from her shoulders.
"Let me," he half-pleaded, half-ordered, relieved when she complied. "Your skin is so soft," he whispered as his large and much darker hands smoothed the fabric over her shoulders, revealing more and more of her cream-coloured flesh.
The swell of her breasts kept the gown from falling, but before he could dislodge it, Isabella took a deep breath. With a deliberate lift of her shoulders, she let the gown fall all the way to the floor. Standing completely naked before him, she dropped her gaze, her body shivering, though he doubted it was from the cold. He knew he should reassure her immediately, but he was rendered both speechless and immobile by the stunning sight before him.
Edward was aware his wife's curves were well rounded, her breasts full, and her hips those of a woman not a girl. He had felt her in his arms the night before and caught glimpses beneath the shadowed canopy of their bed. But the sight of her standing before him in the candlelight was breath-taking. Her skin was smooth and pale, her nipples a dusky rose that caused his palms to itch with a desire to touch and his mouth to salivate with a hunger to taste. The indent of her waist appeared made for his hands to caress, the shadow of her navel for his delectation. Even the curve of her belly seemed designed to emphasise her femininity.
His gaze travelled lower until he reached the soft curls at the juncture of her thighs. A shade darker than her hair, they covered what he knew to be an amazing treasure, and he could do naught but marvel that she was his.
"You are gorgeous," he whispered, reaching to run his hand down the length of her arm. "Feel what you do to me." He captured her fingers and placed them over his thundering heart. It was hardly the most visible effect she had upon him, but he didn't want to appear crass by drawing her attention to the more obvious change in his physiology.
Isabella was not so easily offended, and her gaze lowered to the rather prominent evidence of his arousal.
"That, too," he acknowledged with a shrug.
His belly tensed when her hands traced the planes and ridges of muscle down his torso. She followed the line of dark hair to where it disappeared in the waistband of his undergarments. With trembling fingers, she undid the drawstring that held them in place before gently pushing the material past his hips.
Unsurprisingly, they got stuck. Not waiting to see what she would do about the problem, he tucked his thumbs under the soft fabric and pushed his undergarments the rest of the way before kicking them off with his feet. When he straightened, her mouth was agape, and it took all of Edward's resolve not to cover himself.
"Well . . ." Her gaze flickered between his highly aroused member and his worried expression. "That's an impressive change in dimension. If I'd had any idea it could grow so large, I would have been far less confident about our achieving a successful outcome."
"And you wonder why I was worried about your well-being."
"Quite." Isabella nodded before taking a deep breath. He imagined it was to calm herself, but the rise and fall of her breasts had the opposite effect on him. Before he knew his intention, he drew her into his embrace, the feel of her naked body moulded to his utterly sublime.
"It will be all right. We were successful, and you said it wasn't too painful, that it even became quite pleasant. Don't succumb to fear now."
"I won't," she murmured against his chest. "Especially not with you holding me so close. I never expected the feel of our bodies touching would be so . . . so . . ."
"Extraordinary?" he supplied, and she sighed, her breath teasing his skin.
"Most extraordinary." She wriggled in his embrace, the movement causing her breasts and belly to rub against him.
Recognising his mistake, Edward wondered how he was supposed to see to her pleasure when he was a hair's breadth from losing control.
"Isabella. I think . . ." He held her away from him and shook his head to clear it. "I think it might be wise if we lie on the bed."
"As you wish." Her smile was shy but knowing, and he was pleased to see a return of her confidence, even if it came at his expense. The price was one he was happy to pay.
With minimal awkwardness considering their inexperience, they climbed onto the bed and lay down in one another's arms. Edward lay on his left side, which caused his shoulder to pain, but he needed access to his more dexterous right hand for what he had planned.
For long moments, he gave himself up to the pleasure of kissing his wife. He adored her mouth, drawing the plump lower lip between his own and gently suckling before trading places with the Cupid's bow upper. All the while, she graced him with the same attention, their mouths moving together in harmony. His enjoyment was so great, his thoughts were quickly reduced to solitary words.
Soft. Warm. Perfect.
The recesses of her mouth were a treasure trove of taste and sensation. From gentle brushes and soft caresses to a hungry devouring, he couldn't seem to get enough of kissing her. At the same time, his hands roamed her body with increasing boldness. They smoothed and stroked her back and over the curve of her hips before squeezing her bottom. Her legs moved restlessly, allowing him opportunity to insert his thigh in the space between. He knew now where best to apply pressure, or so he hoped, and was rewarded with the sound of her whimper as he rocked against her. After gently stroking the length of her thigh, he caught hold of her knee and drew it over his hip, increasing the intimacy.
Feeling her heat, Edward's head swam, and he struggled to maintain some semblance of control. Focusing on her pleasure, though knowing it would increase his torment exponentially, he cupped one of her breasts, delighting in the bounty he had been given. After rubbing his thumb gently over the already erect nipple and feeling it harden further at his touch, he could barely contain his desire to discover her taste.
Isabella's gasp gave him confidence that she might welcome such an endeavour, outlandish though it might be. When she arched her back, pushing against both his hand and thigh, he decided permission had been granted. After trailing his lips along her jaw, he brushed them down the side of her neck, stopping only to nibble along her collarbone before continuing to the swell of her breast. She stilled, her attention no doubt focused on his destination. When he hesitated, she tangled her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, urging him onward.
Edward needed no further encouragement.
With soft kisses, he reverently mapped the curve of her breast before allowing himself a taste of her nipple. Isabella's soft whimper became a cry of what he hoped was pleasure when he ran his tongue over the tight bud. She arched beneath him, her grip on his hair tightening as if she feared he would pull away. Never more eager to oblige her, he drew the entire bud into his mouth and suckled. Her response was everything he had hoped, though it took him a moment to register as he was somewhat overwhelmed by the assault on his senses.
Fortunately, his new favourite activity, besides kissing her mouth, and joining their bodies, was one that seemed to please his wife very well. Applying all diligence to his task, he continued until she was whimpering and writhing beneath him. Recalling that she had two such destinations, he trailed his mouth across the valley between her breasts to shower her other nipple with equal attention.
"Oh, Edward," she whispered in between making the most sensual mewling sounds he had ever heard and never imagined would be made in response to his touch.
Knowing his weakened left arm wouldn't take the weight of his body indefinitely, he trailed the fingers of his right hand across her belly. When he reached her soft curls, she tensed, her hand dropping to his arm in caution. Lifting his head, he took in her slumberous but now slightly worried gaze.
"It's all right, sweetheart," he said. "Trust me. I want to try and make it more than just pleasant."
After a moment's hesitation, where he could practically see her weighing his words in her mind, she nodded. Her breath came in short pants, and her gaze followed the path of his fingers as he delved into the folds hidden beneath her curls. For a few minutes, he indulged himself with stroking softly, entranced by her delicate texture. He had touched her only fleetingly the night before, but from memory, she seemed a little swollen. His hope was the more aroused she became before he penetrated her, the less discomfort she would suffer.
Renewed in his purpose, he found the place that was apparently the source of a woman's fulfilment, that was if he had interpreted the euphemisms accurately. If his newly gained understanding of female anatomy was correct, Edward questioned the design. The sensitive bud didn't seem to be in the most ideal location. But any doubts he had over the validity of the information were banished at Isabella's response to his gentle touch.
She shuddered, and her head fell back.
"Don't stop," she begged when he hesitated, alerting him to the fact his work was not yet done.
He was more than content to continue. The only problem was the feel of her soft flesh sliding beneath his fingers, and the sound of her cries, were driving him perilously close to the edge.
Edward wanted to be inside his wife when she found her release, but he wasn't sure it would be wise. Torn with indecision, he continued to caress her sensitive juncture with his right hand while rising up on his knees. Once in position, he was able to stroke her astonishingly beautiful breasts with his left hand, clumsy though it might be. Unable to resist the temptation, he moved to kneel between her thighs. While continuing to stroke her, he urged her knees further apart, aligned their bodies, and pressed forward. There was much less resistance than the first time, but he hesitated when her eyes fluttered open.
"Am I hurting you?"
"A little, but please, don't stop."
"Does it feel good?" He needed the reassurance, and the focus, as his own body was flooded with exquisite sensation.
"Oh, yes." She sighed, her hips rising to meet his.
Once Edward was inside her, he took a moment to catch his breath and strengthen his resolve. Moving gently in and out, he established a steady rhythm, all the while continuing to tease her with his fingers. The position was a little awkward, but the flush that stole across her skin was more than worth the effort. Mesmerised by the sight, his groans echoed her soft cries. When her velvety walls began to pulse, he suspected she was close to experiencing the bliss she had given him.
The pressure, and the pleasure, were almost too intense, but he held fast to his mission. After not too many more minutes, her breath hitched, and she arched beneath him, the most glorious cry erupting from her lips.
If Edward had been in any doubt as to what was occurring, the deep rhythmic contractions that squeezed him tightly laid them to rest. Shock waves of pleasure traversed his spine, pooling in his groin and warning him his own climax was imminent. With Isabella gripping his hips tightly with her knees, he wondered how he could pull out without hurting her.
"Isabella," he cried when he could wait no longer and knew he must withdraw. To his relief, she let him go, cuddling into his side and murmuring his name while he shuddered and groaned with his own release.
~P&P~
Phew! Is it hot in here?
I know some of you are, understandably, a little dubious of Edward's rather remarkable staying power, considering his relative youth and inexperience. But it is a writer's prerogative to assign her character's specific strengths and weaknesses, and I chose not to include premature ejaculation in the already long list of obstacles they have to overcome.
You are very welcome. ;)
xx Elise
