As always, thank you to my PTB betas, Thir13enth and SecretlySeverus!
.
.
WOOHOO! I'm so excited! Several months ago one of my lovely readers, Cared, was kind enough to review and recommend I remain, Yours on Rob Attack, and I thank her very much for that! Now, as we are at the end of another year, they are having a poll to vote for your favorite fic reviewed and recommended during 2012, and IrY is in the running for Best WIP of the Year! Now, since I am very definitely not above begging for votes, I am doing just that-so please, PLEASE, PLEASE, vote for I remain, Yours for Best WIP of the Year on Rob Attack! I do have a link, but FFn won't allow links-they delete them automatically-and I'm afraid to try to post it removing the dot com's and risking pissing of the FFn Gods and getting my story pulled. If you google Rob Attack Best of 2012, it'll take you to the site and you can scroll down to the right link, or check out Twilighted or The Writer's Coffee Shop for the link if you have trouble finding it. The winner will be announced on December 28th.
.
Please vote for I remain, Yours!
.
Disclaimer – All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc., are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
.
.
.
.
.
.
After studying her textbook, Bella closed her eyes and recited, "Salir, to leave. Preterite tense, salí, saliste, salió, salimos, salisteis, salieron. Imperfect indicative tense, salía, salías, salía, salíamos, salíais, salían. Future… saldré, saldrás, saldráaaahhh…."
Edward chuckled and his cold breath sent a shiver up her spine. "Saldráaaahhh?"
"You're not helping, Edward. I have a Spanish test tomorrow you know."
He brushed her hair off her shoulder and nuzzled his face against her neck, pressing gentle kisses near her collarbone. "Lo sé. Yo también," he answered, his accent perfect.
"Very funny. We're supposed to be studying."
"Your conjugation is perfect, Bella."
"I know the words, but I can never remember when to use which past tense. Why do they need two past tenses anyway?"
"You got seventeen out of twenty right on the practice test. You'll do just fine."
Says Mr. I've-Been-Through-High-School-I-Don't-Remember-How-Many-Times. Bella's eyes drifted shut, and she hummed as Edward blew his cold breath against her skin, raising goose bumps all the way down her back. They were in the room at the back of the third floor where Bella had woken up on her first visit to Edward's home. Both exterior walls of the room were a nearly seamless span of glass, giving an incredible view of the backyard and the mountains far in the distance. There was a small balcony beyond French doors with a bistro-style table with a mosaic marble top and two chairs. This room had quickly become one of Bella's favorite places in the world.
She had come to think of this room as theirs. In a family of seven, even in such a large house, it seemed odd that no one else seemed to ever use this room. It was almost as if it was reserved just for them—their own little hideaway. When they were together in their room, they could be the only two people in the world.
Edward played with the collar of her shirt as he kissed the back of her ear. "I love this color blue on you," he whispered.
It was getting harder and harder to concentrate on studying. If he kept this up, she was going to have no choice but to throw her notes aside and…. Right. Best not to think about that.
Edward seemed to be firmly stuck in the early 1900's when it came to anything physical. Kissing was good—actually kissing was freaking fantastic—but anytime it became too intense, too heated—which never seemed to take very long—he slammed the brakes on.
She understood his hesitance. She didn't agree with it, but she did understand it.
Whenever the time came that Edward told her everything, it was something they were definitely going to have to talk about. This was 2010, not 1918. But for right now, Bella had no choice but to accept it. "Spanish, Edward. Not all of us have an A average."
"Fine. Me encanta este color azul en ti. And your average is a high B, mi vida. You're hardly at risk of failing."
He traced down the side of her neck with the tip of his nose before kissing his way back up to her ear, and she tried to sit still. If she squirmed, he might stop. If she turned around and grabbed him, he would definitely stop. And she very decidedly did not want him to stop.
Edward chuckled softly and his cold breath against the shell of her ear was too much. "Like that?"
"Oh God, yes." Bella couldn't stop the moan that came from deep inside her, and she twisted around to capture his lips and slid her hand into his hair. She had kept the one small lock of his hair close to her for months when it had been all she believed she would ever hold of him, and now that he was really here with her she couldn't touch his hair enough. Running her hands through his hair was like her drug, and she was a very happy addict.
She shifted, trying to gain better access to his mouth. It was an awkward position, sitting as they were on the floor with Edward behind her and leaning against the black leather couch. She was sitting in the V formed by his legs and leaning back against his chest.
She ran the tip of her tongue along his lower lip before biting his neck just below his ear. She could feel the vibration of his growl and she smiled. The sense of power she felt knowing she was the one who made him make that sound was intoxicating. One of the things she'd learned so far from kissing Edward was that he had a very sensitive neck. He loved it when she bit his neck, when she dragged her nails roughly down it to his shoulders and back. Apparently Edward's neck was an erogenous zone. A vampire with a sexually sensitive neck—she couldn't decide if it was fitting or ironic.
He wrapped one arm around her waist and the other came up to cradle the side of her face. This would be it. He would pull away now. Anytime she bit down on his neck, he growled like that, but then his kisses slowed until he pulled away, leaning his forehead against hers trying to calm himself, apology evident in his eyes. She didn't know if he felt the need to apologize for treating her in what the era he'd been born into would have taught him was a disrespectful manner or for having to stop, but she hated it either way. His Victorian outlook was part of who he was, but the last thing she wanted was for him to regret or feel guilt for what they did together for any reason.
He wasn't disrespecting her or taking advantage of her; she was an active participant and enjoyed every second of it. The way he held her made her feel cherished; the way he kissed her made her feel adored. The way he looked at her made her feel beautiful. He made her feel loved.
And if he felt they had to stop for… some other reason, she didn't understand it but she trusted him.
Except this time he showed no signs of stopping. His hand trailed down her neck and continued down her arm to wrap around her ribs. Bella wished they could deepen their kiss. She wanted to feel his tongue against hers. She wanted to learn every contour of his mouth, but again, she trusted he had a reason for never allowing that.
Bella had learned some things surreptitiously from Tanya, but she didn't delude herself into thinking that there wasn't much more she didn't know. She still didn't know what happened if they went outside in the sun or even if he had fangs. Fangs, she was forced to admit, would pose a problem were their kisses to get carried away.
Their kisses grew more passionate, more desperate than Edward had ever allowed before, and she moved to turn around so she could wrap her arms around him. He moved his arm at the same time she started to turn, causing the tips of his fingers to brush the underside of her breast.
From that simple, accidental touch, Bella saw stars. Fireworks exploded behind her closed eyes, and she heard a deep, surprised gasp that may have come from either of them. Or possibly both of them.
Except for his panting breath, Edward was as still as a statue behind her. Her own breath was coming in pants as well, and her heart was slamming itself against her rib cage. "Do that again," she begged.
If it was possible, he seemed to freeze even stiller than before. He could've been carved from stone.
"Edward, please… touch me." She pressed her face to his neck as well as she could in the position she was in and let her warm breath wash over his icy skin while pressing warm, wet kisses anywhere she could reach. Taking advantage of her knowledge of how sensitive his neck was may have been underhanded, but she didn't care. She had to feel that again. If just an accidental brushing of his fingertips could make her toes curl like that, what would it feel like if he touched her deliberately? "Edwardplease." The words came out in such a rush it could've been only one word. Edwardplease. Edwardplease. Best word in the English language, Bella decided. Edwardplease.
She wasn't above taking his hand and placing it on her breast herself if need be and was seriously considering doing just that when his hand moved barely an inch. At first it was tentative, just a hesitating repeat of his fingers just barely skimming her breast—similar to the way a person who had never swum before might dip a toe into a pool while building up the courage to jump in. Fireworks exploded in her head again, but she wanted more.
His hand moved a second time, just as slowly but more deliberately. The next time he moved, his hand grew more determined, and he moved further up the gentle swell of her breast. His fingers became more forceful, applying the gentlest of pressure as they slowly explored the curve of her breast, and his other hand slid up her stomach and over her ribs to trace along her other breast, giving it equal attention.
Bella wanted so badly to cry out, to moan, to do something, but she forced herself to be as still as possible for fear of making him stop. She could never have imagined anything could feel like this.
"Bella…. I love you."
She smiled against his neck. She'd never heard his voice sound that husky before. "I love you, too. I always have."
Edward soon grew bolder; he moved his fingers up along the sides of her breasts. This was the most exquisite torture Bella could imagine. Edward sitting behind her with his arms wrapped around her and fondling her breasts was the most erotic moment of her life. Still, she forced herself to not move, to be quiet. She knew with his sensitive hearing, he could hear her every breath, her every heartbeat, and she trusted that would be all the encouragement, all the confirmation he needed to know how badly she wanted this. She trusted that would be all the permission he needed, because she didn't really think she was capable of stringing more than two or three words together into a sentence.
Teasingly Edward moved slowly toward her hardened nipples, only to withdraw again, each time drawing closer. For someone who Bella was sure had never done this before, the man was a master. He must have a natural talent for it.
When he finally—finally—let his fingers trail across the sensitive nubs it was too much. Bella cried out and arched into his hands. She raised her shaking hands to the buttons on her blouse and quickly slid them open. "Edwardplease."
His magical fingers slid up to her shoulders and down her arms, pulling her blouse along with them before returning to trace all along the newly exposed skin. They played along the edge of her camisole, and she arched her back further, pressing herself into his hands, trying to wordlessly beg him to dip his fingertips below the thin cotton.
Edward let his fingers travel back to her nipples, continuing to trace around them and play with the hardened peaks before laying his hands over her breasts and kneading them gently. Bella licked her dry lips before raising her hands slowly to the thin straps of her camisole and tried to mentally beg Edward not to stop now.
His hands stilled momentarily before he pressed a trail of kisses along the curve of her neck. She was both desperate and terrified to do what she planned, and she took a deep breath to calm her nerves. Her hands were shaking as she slowly slid the straps from her shoulders. Edward's kisses followed them as far as he could reach, his cold breath making goose bumps rise all over her.
She twisted around to face him, and time seemed to stand still as their lips met in a tender kiss. Her hands stilled while they kissed until she pulled away, and they moved together as one to let her rise to her knees and straddle him. This was the most intense moment of her life, and she wanted to watch him watch her. She wanted to see his face as she slid the fabric down and over her breasts. She wanted to see his eyes as they looked at her for the first time. The desire on his face and in those amber eyes was unmistakable and made her feel like the most beautiful, most sensuous being alive.
The white cotton was already dangerously low, only just covering her pale pink nipples, and when she returned her hands to her arms, his joined them. Her body was humming with her need for him, and seeing the lust in his eyes as they stared into hers before drifting down to her chest as together they lowered the thin camisole to her waist was almost too much. Hearing his whimper-like moan and seeing him lick his lips as his eyes raked over her bare chest pushed her closer to the edge. Her Edward looked like a blind man who could not only suddenly see but found himself in front of Venus or Aphrodite.
Edward raised his hands to her shoulders, tracing patterns on her skin, lovingly learning every inch of her. It was a beautiful agony as his hands slowly traveled downward. Bella arched into his touch and panted desperately as he traced down and between her breasts before circling around and following the gentle swell back up along the side. When he finally reached her nipples, Bella's head fell backward, and her mouth fell open in a silent scream. She wanted to cry out at the top of her lungs but she couldn't utter a sound. The electric charge she always felt when their skin touched shot through every inch of her body and pooled between her legs.
He teased and played with the oversensitive nubs, rolling them gently between his fingers and softly squeezing them, lightly dragging his nails across them and tracing circles around them. Nothing, Bella was sure, could ever surpass the feeling of his cold fingers leaving trails of fire on her skin, and she shivered from pure pleasure.
She realized with a shock just how wrong she'd been when Edward's icy, wet tongue replaced his fingers, lapping at and tasting her breasts. The scream Bella felt building since the moment his fingers touched her bare skin exploded from within her when his lips closed around the hardened pink buds. She arched backward as far as she could, pushing herself toward him, putting one of her hands on his leg behind her to brace herself; her other hand buried itself in his hair.
Edward licked and kissed his way from one breast to the other before bringing his hand back to kneed one while continuing to worship the other with his mouth.
Bella's body tingled all over. The feeling was indescribable. She felt like she was flying.
He wrapped an arm around her and drew her forcefully closer to him. She was pressed firmly against him and, still straddling him, there was no mistaking the hard length pressed intimately against her. Feeling him made her body throb with need for him.
Edward's hands were amazing. His mouth defied description. But now she wanted his chest pressed against hers. Bella leaned forward, forcing him to lean back against the couch and her hands went to his waist. This wasn't the slow sensual tease from earlier; this was a mad rush to get his sweater off as quickly as possible. He leaned forward slightly to allow her to pull it up and over his head, and she tossed it off to the side.
The sight of Edward's bare chest took her breath away. Now Bella slowed down. Now she took her time. She let her eyes drink him in. She wanted to savor every second of this. His muscles were well defined, but he was thinner than one would expect of someone so toned. He bore the signs of someone who had been very fit but had lost a significant amount of weight in a short period of time. The stress of the last month of his human life and the illness he'd suffered from for nearly a week had permanently left their mark on his body. Edward had worried to her many times that his mother hadn't been eating properly during that time; seeing his thin frame now confirmed the fear she'd had then that he hadn't been eating enough either, despite his reassurances.
There was a light dusting of fine copper hair—just enough to play with, to tug on. His nipples were pink and hard.
Remembering a comment he'd made once in a letter, Bella's eyes drifted to his shoulder, expecting to see a scar from when he'd been sick with chicken pox as a child, but his skin was flawless.
He leaned forward, pulling her against him again and capturing her lips. Their moans were swallowed by the other as their bare chests touched. Edward dropped his head back against the couch and his eyes fell shut. She watched his throat muscles work as he swallowed, and she ran her fingers over his Adam's apple. Bella continued along his collarbone to his shoulder, up and down his bare arm.
"You have no idea how that feels," Edward breathed.
Before she could tell him she would bet she did, Edward recaptured her lips, grabbing her upper arms tightly and running his hands up and down her back.
Wanting to learn every inch of him as he had her, she began on his neck, kissing and biting and licking. There was no pox scar on Edward's shoulder, but when she made her way back to his neck, Bella did find another scar she hadn't thought to look for. She hadn't seen anything, but she hadn't looked for it either. Even as curious as Bella was, she forced herself not to linger. She couldn't give him the impression she'd noticed anything unusual on his neck, or he might get spooked. The scar was right where she would've expected it, but it wasn't at all what she would've expected. What she'd felt against the tip of her tongue was a slight ridge, barely raised from the surrounding skin.
And it was crescent shaped.
Bella moved down his chest to within inches of Edward's nipples before moving back up and over to the other side. She kissed and bit along his collarbone, working her way first to his shoulder then back to his neck before moving slightly down his chest. With her face only inches from him and knowing exactly where to look and what to look for, Bella could just make out the pair of very faint curved lines. Never would she have noticed it without specifically looking for it. It was practically invisible.
Edward hadn't been bitten only once; he'd been bitten twice, once on each side of his neck.
And the bites looked like human bites, not the pinpricks she would have expected.
She filed the knowledge away to think about later and slid herself down his legs, moving into a better position. Instead of teasing him, she went directly to one of his nipples and bit down on it gently before soothing it with her tongue.
Edward sucked in a sharp breath as his body twitched and jerked. His breathing was ragged, and she loved it. She loved the power knowing she could reduce him to a quivering pile of goo gave her.
Bella ran her tongue against his chest and swiped it up and over the pink flesh. She moved to the other side of his chest and closed her mouth around his nipple, sucking it before releasing it and taking a few of the bronze hairs between her teeth and pulling gently.
Edward grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her onto her back. The feeling of him on top of her took away the last of her ability to think, and Bella instinctively wrapped her legs around him, holding him against her. He made the most delicious sounds as he rubbed his body deliberately against hers. She dragged her nails down his back before running them along the top of his jeans. She dipped one finger under the denim, then another, then another. Grateful the jeans were loose fitting, she slid both hands under the denim and grabbed him over his boxers. She withdrew her hands just far enough to run her fingers along the waistband of his boxers for a moment before sliding under to feel his skin against her hands. Touching Edward so intimately while he moved against her pushed Bella over the edge she'd been hanging from, and her body exploded as wave after wave of her orgasm rocked through her.
In her post-orgasm-bliss-filled brain, Bella thought she heard the sound of heavy fabric tearing, but then Edward followed her to his own climax, panting and gasping above her, and all but the sound and sight of him was forgotten.
When he stilled, she withdrew her hands and caressed up and down his back, his arms, his sides as their breathing and her heartbeat slowly returned to normal. As Bella regained the ability to think clearly, she began to realize what they'd done together, how they'd gone from teasing, tempting kisses that Edward would inevitably stop before they got carried away, to….
Getting completely carried away.
She didn't regret a second of it. Not for herself, but she did worry Edward might regret it. The world he had once been part of was so night and day different from the only one she'd ever known. They'd been a couple now for almost two months. She thought most kids their age today would've been doing a hell of a lot more than what they'd just done by now.
But they weren't most kids, and Edward wasn't really "their" age.
He still hadn't moved from above her. He hadn't moved so much as an inch, actually, and Bella was afraid that was a bad sign. She traced the words "I love you" along his back and gently kissed him wherever she could reach. After a moment, he rolled onto his back and opened his arms to her. Relieved, she happily curled up against him.
Edward whispered into her hair, "I love you, too," but his voice was too quiet, and there was a remorseful quality in it that caused her to push herself up on her elbow enough to look at him. The way he'd said them, he'd made the words "I love you, too" sound like an apology, and Bella wanted to say or do whatever she could to get that apology out of his voice.
She wanted to tell him everything; she had no idea how to even bring up the subject of who and what he really was, but there could be no more secrets between them.
Before Bella could decide how to lead into the conversation they had to have, her cell phone rang, interrupting her. It was her mother's ring, but she had no intention of answering it right now; this conversation took precedence over everything else. Her mother and she could talk any time, but the conversation she needed to have with Edward couldn't wait. It was time to fess up. Time to come clean, as they say. The secret between them was too big. Edward needed to know that she already knew everything. She could hear him in her head singing the song he'd sung to her the first day he'd brought her to his house, "I'm gonna give all my secrets away.…" He needed to know there were no secrets. She knew. And she didn't care. Taking a deep breath, Bella began without having any idea of what to say, hoping something would come to her if she could at least start talking.
"Edward, I—"
"You should answer that."
Bella bit her lip as she looked at Edward. His eyes were closed tight and he turned his face away from her.
"It's just my mom," she said. "I'll talk to her later."
Edward opened his pain-filled eyes and looked at her. His eyes never wavered from her face; he looked frightened. He looked like a child who'd just awoken from a nightmare but hadn't yet realized it was just a dream; it wasn't real, and he was safe in his bed. He looked as if he was afraid the monsters from his nightmare followed him even after he woke.
No, Bella understood, he looks like he's afraid that he is the monster.
"Bella, she's your mother. Answer the phone."
She sighed. How could she not answer it now? Edward would never hear his mother's voice again. Did he remember the sound of it? Sometimes he said he barely remembered her, other times he would tell her something specific and detailed, down to the perfume or jewelry she'd worn. He sat up and handed her the blue shirt that had been dropped on the floor and forgotten—still without looking at her—before stepping outside onto the balcony.
"I'll give you some privacy."
Bella watched with fear growing inside her as she pulled her camisole back up and slid her arms through the straps. Edward stood in the pouring rain with his hands braced on the railing and his head hung. At least he hadn't put his shirt back on.
If he hadn't covered himself back up right away, that was a good sign.
Wasn't it?
.
..ooOoo.. ..ooOoo.. ..ooOoo.. ..ooOoo..
.
Edward stood on the balcony outside his room listening to Bella talk to her mother. More accurately, he listened to Renee talk while Bella interjected an occasional distracted "Mhmm." Shame filled him. Not only had he… done what he had just done… but now he was eavesdropping on his Bella's private conversation with her mother. How low could he sink?
He had not only treated Bella with such horrible disrespect, but worse, he had endangered her. He could've ripped her arms off. He could've crushed her. There had been any number of times he could've killed her. Edward lowered his head, wholly disgusted with himself. No apology in the world could ever fix this. He was nothing but a monster. He'd been so selfish…. He'd taken what he wanted without a second thought to Bella's safety.
He was far worse than any of the boys at school with their vile, dirty minds. How could he criticize them for their thoughts when he'd pushed Bella onto the floor and rutted against her like an animal? What, really, was the worse any of them could do to her? If she was with one of the other boys at school—Mike Newtown or Tyler Crowley, or anyone but him—what would her biggest risk be? A few love bites she couldn't hide? At the absolute worst, an unplanned pregnancy? Even then, he was certain she would have the full support of both of her parents. Today's society wouldn't even bat an eye; she would have nothing to lose in that regard either.
And she would have something he would never be able to give her. A child. He could never give her a child. His beautiful Bella deserved so much better, so much more than he could ever give her. What's a first edition book compared to a child? Compared to building a real life, a full life, with her? To growing old with her? What did he think he was doing? What could he ever offer her?
Edward hung his head lower and gripped the railing tighter. This was it. He had to fix this. He had to think of some magic words to beg her to forgive him.
He could hear restrained anger in her voice as she told her mother good bye. She'd gotten off the phone quickly, promising they'd talk later. Bella had told her mother she was with him and studying for a Spanish test, only to have Renee ask anxiously if they were being careful. It appeared from the irritation evident in his Bella's voice that this was not the first time the subject had come up. Hearing those words from her mother only served to highlight to Edward how horribly and irresponsibly he had behaved. No, Mrs. Dwyer. We're not being careful. Or rather, I'm not. Bella had no idea of the incredible danger I selfishly and unforgivably placed her in.
How many times before had her mother warned her about being careful with him? he wondered. Edward had no idea; he rarely heard them on the phone together. His normal evening routine was to spend as much time with Bella as possible, then leave—both to honor her privacy with her father and to hunt—and by the time he returned, she was inevitably asleep. He would stay through the night in the trees behind her house and listen to her breathe as she slept. In the morning as she woke, he would run back to his family's house to shower and change before returning to her house to drive her to school.
Edward could hear Bella's every move inside his room. Her irritation was obvious in everything she did—from the way she threw her phone on the couch to the way she roughly picked up her blouse to put it back on. After the disgraceful way he'd treated her, her anger with him was completely justified. It would be worse than being burned alive, but he would endure it. She had every right to give him what for after what he'd just done. Or, as she once said, rip me a new one.
The corners of Edward's mouth twitched involuntarily as he remembered one other time his mate had torn into someone—both her written description of it and Fido's memory of it. Jasper was right; his Bella was a fighter, there was no doubt about that.
It would be an entirely different experience being on the receiving end of her anger, but he fully deserved it, and he would let her speak her piece before getting on his knees to beg her forgiveness.
Edward braced himself as she opened the French doors and stepped out onto the balcony. "Edward. A—" Bella's breath caught in her throat in her anger. "Edward. Agamemnon. Mortimer. Cullen. Don't you DARE apologize for what just happened, or so help me God, I will push you over that railing."
Her words were so exactly the opposite of what Edward had tried to prepare himself to hear and were spoken with such vehemence, he spun around to face her in surprise. A bubble of laughter erupted from him at the sight of his mate before he could stop it. His vicious little tiger kitten was standing in the doorway positively glaring at him, with her delicate little hands on her hips, balled into tiny fists.
His Bella was utterly adorable when she was angry.
Against his will, Edward's traitorous eyes drifted downward. She hadn' tput her blouse back on. She was still only wearing the white cotton camisole, which was so thin as to do nothing whatsoever to preserve her modesty from his enhanced eyesight. The perfect curve of her breasts… her rosebud nipples…. She was as nearly as exposed to him in that moment as she had been when she'd…. when they'd slid the useless cotton down her body.
The way she'd begged him to touch her…. The deep passion her voice had been full of for him…. For him! The way she'd felt under his hands…. The way her hands had felt on him….
Edward grew hard again remembering how her warm, soft hands had felt when she'd touched him… where she'd touched him….
"I mean it, Edward." His Bella advanced on him angrily, stepping out from under the shelter of the eaves and into the driving rain, one tiny hand leaving her hip to poke him in the chest. If he'd been human, Edward suspected it would've hurt.
He took her hand in his and, guiding her back under the shelter provided by the eaves, Edward pulled her against him, needing to apologize. "Bella, I—"
Bella's hand came up to cover his mouth, and he looked down at her in bewilderment. "I said, don't. Just… don't. I am the happiest person in the world right now, Edward, and you are killing my buzz! So knock it off. We love each other, and we messed around a bit. No harm done. In fact," she nuzzled her face against his chest, "it was amazing."
She looked up at him with absolute faith in her eyes—faith that he could never deserve. He asked, "Are you sure?"
In a split second, his Bella's expression changed first to confusion and then to something approaching mortification. "Wasn't… wasn't it… I mean… you… you…."
Dear Lord, she thought he'd hadn't… enjoyed it, that he was questioning her statement that it had been amazing. Amazing didn't come close. Even with all the languages he spoke fluently, Edward didn't know any words that did come close to describing how wonderful it had been. He traced his fingers along her face and through her hair before pressing a kiss against her forehead. "Bella, I never knew feelings like that existed. Before you, they simply didn't exist, not for me. That you would share that with me, there are no words that adequately describe what you mean to me, how very much I love you. That you feel the same for me, it's incomprehensible to me."
Edward carefully placed his hands on her shoulders and pushed her a few inches away from himself to look at her properly. She didn't look at all injured. She looked lost and confused.
"Am I sure about what?" his Bella asked him. "I'm sure I loved every second of it. You," she blushed, and her scent—already heady—intensified further, "I mean… you… you…." She was trying to gesture with her hands, unable to speak the words. "You seemed to enjoy it, too. What's wrong? Do you think I didn't…?"
Oh, no. He was sure she'd enjoyed it, as she called it. Her musky scent left no doubt about that. It had been that scent that had finished him. On top of the feeling of her touching him under his clothing, touching him as no one ever had before, the moment that unmistakable scent washed over him…. He'd been lost.
But as wonderful as it had been did not change the fact that he should never have allowed it to happen. "Are you sure you're not hurt? Please, Bella. Tell me the truth. Did I hurt you?"
Comprehension lit her chocolate brown eyes, and her mouth formed a perfect 'O.' She nodded her head slowly, but it was clearly in understanding and not confirmation of his worst fears. "No, Edward. Not at all. I promise."
"You're sure? Absolutely sure?"
"Yes, Edward, I'm sure. I'm not hurt."
It was obvious by her voice that she was telling the truth as she knew it, but his senses were much stronger than hers. Edward could already see the subtle darkening of the skin on her shoulders and arms. Bruises were forming that she was not yet aware of, that she could not yet feel.
Bruises that he'd caused.
"Bella, I am so terribly sorry. I had no right, no right at all—"
She replaced her hand over his mouth, silencing him. "No. If anyone should be sorry it's me."
Edward was horrified. His Bella blamed herself for what just happened? He was the man; he was to blame. Not her. She was perfectly innocent. He was the guilty party. "You? Bella, you have nothing with which to reproach yourself. It was my fault, solely mine—"
Her hand covered his mouth again. "Edward, this is the 21st century. Welcome to it. I am every bit as responsible for what we do or do not do as a couple as you are. You made it clear you weren't comfortable with…." She looked away, hands gesturing and blushing again. It really was too adorable. The same girl who'd just minutes ago so brazenly slid her hands under his clothing and touched him was now embarrassed to talk about it. "I shouldn't have pushed you," his Bella said as she wrapped her arms around him and leaned her head against his chest.
"You're sure you're not hurt, I mean absolutely sure?"
She looked up at him and shivered violently. The sight brought back horrible memories. "I'm not hurt, but I am freakin' freezing. Can we go back inside now?"
Only just remembering the cold at that moment, Edward immediately scooped her up into his arms and carried her into his room, berating himself for being so careless. He'd gotten her out of the rain at least, but not out of the cold.
He was two for two tonight.
Grabbing the previously useless blanket Esme swore 'completed' the room and wrapping Bella up in it, Edward kicked himself for being so stupid. He'd been so worried he'd hurt her, he hadn't seen the more immediate concern of keeping her warm. "Wait here. I'll get dry clothes for you from Alice's room."
He ran out of his room before she could argue with him and pulled out the first things his hands landed on in the "For Bella" section of Alice's closet and a towel from the bathroom. He returned with them much too quickly, but his thoughts were too focused on getting his mate warm again to realize his mistake or to understand the reason for the grin his Bella was trying to hide.
Returning to the bedroom Alice and Jasper shared, Edward borrowed dry—not to mention clean—clothes from his brother.
Downstairs, Edward started a fire in the never-before-used hearth while his Bella changed into the dry clothes. As he watched the kindling catch and the fire spread, Edward's mind wandered and thought about what was happening in his room at that moment. He tried to concentrate on the crackling sounds of the growing fire but all he could hear was the sound of rustling, wet fabric dropping to the floor coming from the third floor. He went to his piano and played, but his fingers automatically plucked out a song he'd composed and dedicated to Bella, even if she hadn't yet heard it. It did nothing to help block out the mental image of Bella undressing fully in his room.
That was another reason he hunted and dressed for the new day when he did. If he was near enough to hear Bella in the shower, Edward knew he'd never restrain himself.
He wished someone would come home, someone to distract him, to keep him from doing something else he'd regret, but as usual his family had scattered, giving them privacy. The ability to be alone in his mind without being alone was something he'd always longed for, and his family was happy to give it to him now that it was possible.
A sudden thought occurred to Edward that if he ran out into the woods, he could watch her through the windows in his room. As disgusted with himself as Edward was for even thinking it, his cock twitched as he pictured the scene. He wanted her so badly; his body ached to become one with hers. The memory of touching her, of seeing her… seeing her pebbled nipples first though the thin cotton and then bared to him…. The way they'd felt under his hands and against his lips and tongue…. The way she arched into his touch…. How she'd looked when she'd first stepped out onto the balcony to confront him…. Then, when she'd stepped out into the rain, drops of water dripping down the skin he'd so recently touched, tasted… rendering the cotton camisole she wore even more useless, seeing her clearly through the wet fabric…. His Bella dripping wet was even harder to resist than his Bella dry.
Edward had to control himself. She had left his room and was on the stairs. He rose from the piano and met her at the bottom of the stairs. The peach-colored cashmere sweater Alice had purchased for her made his Bella's skin glow, highlighting her natural warm porcelain complexion. Her checks were a beautiful pink. "You are so beautiful," he breathed, mesmerized by his mate.
The pink spread from her cheeks across her face, and she looked away before turning back to him. "You changed your clothes quickly," she observed innocently but with a teasing look in her bottomless brown eyes.
Edward kissed the top of her head. "Come on, I lit a fire." He took her hand to lead her to the warmth from the fire, but before he took the first step, his Bella reached out to touch his arm. She looked apprehensive, and he worried that something had begun to hurt her.
"What's wrong?" he asked, trying not to sound too panicked. "Do you hurt anywhere? Is something wrong?"
Slowly and watching him intently, his beloved mate shook her head, the look of apprehension sliding from her eyes to be replaced with something Edward couldn't quite identify, much to his frustration.
"No, Edward, nothing is wrong." She slid her hand down his arm to his hand and laced their fingers together. "Nothing is wrong. Everything is exactly right."
.
.
.
.
.
.
Well, she almost told him. But then she decided against pushing him too much in one day. I hope the little slice of lemon will hold you all till next week when . . . . Oops. Almost gave to much away! You'll just have to wait for the teaser for your sneak peek at next week.
Hopefully, there will still be a next week! Gotta go batten down the hatches and buy every store in town out of all their candles, bread, eggs, and milk getting ready for FRANKENSTORM as Hurricane - or Tropical Storm - Sandy, whichever it happens to be when it hits, meets a nor'easter. Why is it anytime there's a storm, everyone in town decides to have a nice romantic, candlelit dinner of French toast? Must be some kind of weird comfort food. If you have a cold, you make chicken soup. If there's a storm, you make French toast.
In all seriousness, last September we had record flooding with Tropical Storm Lee, and some people were without power for a really long time. Hopefully, this time around won't be so bad. Thankfully, the river is only at three or four feet. It crested at over 42.5 feet last year, two feet higher than it ever had before. Keep us in your thoughts!