A/N: Today's prompt was abso-freaking-lutely perfect. I would encourage you to listen to it while reading the chapter if you can.
One more note: Due to real life trying and succeeding to get in the way of my writing, the next update will be on Monday.
Word Prompt: Coerce
Audio-Visual Challenge—Musical Mastery: "With or Without You" performed by 2CELLOS.
youtube dot com / watch?v=oNtali _ cuYA (copy and paste; close all spaces and replace the "dot" with a period.)
Something True
Coerce
This Winter
In his room, on his bed, lips to the back of her hand, he continues to kiss up her arm, over the fabric of her shirt at her shoulder, to her neck where he lingers. It tickles and relaxes at the same time.
Bella lowers herself to the bed. Edward removes her boots before toeing off his own shoes. He crawls to her side, leaning over her, finding her lips with his. Their tongues meet and press against each other, part and meet again. Bella sighs.
Edward pauses, a thumb to her cheek, caressing. "I've never kissed anyone who kisses like you."
"Like how?
"Like this..." He demonstrates, touching her lips with his, soft and then firm, soft and then firm. Or more like light and dark, like day and night, a rhythm that can steal a heartbeat.
"It drives me crazy," he says, eyes closed.
She's barely breathing and he's on top of her, pressing more rhythms into her, his hips, his mouth, his breath.
He pulls her forward to lift her shirt off, and with her hands underneath his tee she slides the fabric up until it's over his head and coming down his arms.
Discarding it to the floor, he sits back on his heels, and brings his hand to her back. She watches as she drags her fingers from his shoulders down his chest. She pauses over his heart, feeling it pound. A kiss to his shoulder and the pounding increases. By the time she's tracing the lower part of his stomach, the waistline of his jeans, he's backing her to the bed and lying over her, hands pressed to the mattress on either side of her face, his biceps tight. She glides her hands over them.
He kisses her hard enough to make her head sink into the pillow. She breathes him in. He smells of soap and spicy aftershave. Above her he feels strong and heavy and in control.
Edward runs his hands over her body, over her bra. The more he touches her, the more of her she wants him to touch.
She removes her bra. As it comes off he meets her bare breasts with his hands, with his lips, with his tongue.
Bella wraps her legs around his thighs. Her hands at his hips, she pulls him against her. She's dizzy, as though she's been spinning for hours with her arms out, careless or carefree or both.
"Bella," he says.
She does it again, pulls him against her. He catches himself with a hand to the bed.
"Bella. Wait. Wait."
"What?"
Sitting up, he turns away from her, trying to catch his breath.
It's as if the earth jerked to a stop but the dizziness doesn't go away.
"Why? Why do you always stop?"
She hears a breath of a laugh, his shoulders hunching. "I have to."
"Why?"
"Because I do."
"Why?" Like sliding rain, she trails her fingertips down his back.
"Because it's too much." He turns to face her. "Because if I don't stop, Bella, I'll want to do more."
"Do more."
He stares at her, his eyes darting between hers like she's a book he's trying to read but written in a foreign language.
"Do more." She reaches for his pants and unbuttons them, unzips them. She shoves at them and he takes them off the rest of the way.
His jeans gone, he undoes her button and his lips are on hers. Where they should be.
The earth is turning again.
He slides her zipper down. He slides his kisses down. Over her breasts, one then the other, down her stomach. His kisses don't stop as he pushes her jeans over her hips.
Bending her legs to help him get them off, she feels his mouth press against her panties, feels the pull of his lips there, and she freezes, her eyes wide on the ceiling. And it's just him, without her help, dragging her jeans down and off.
She might hear them fall to the floor, but it's hard to tell with the way her heart is beating in her ears.
Meeting her face again, his lips to hers, he streams his fingertips down her thigh between her legs.
"I'm doing more now," he says as he slips his hand beneath the cotton.
She feels a finger press against her and then slide slow. She closes her eyes, welcoming his tongue back into her mouth, grasping his shoulder tight.
He continues the tease of his fingers, and her hips start to rise and fall on their own.
"Edward," she whispers. "Edward." She turns her face and he moves his kiss across her cheek to her ear, and down the side of her neck. His tongue on skin, his fingers... one of them slipping inside, slipping back out. Circling.
Her breath shakes. Her muscles tighten. She swallows a moan, but another one comes. Lips on her breasts, and more moans, more shaky breaths. Another, "Edward," from her mouth, until she doesn't know what she's doing, or what she's saying. Everything drains from her head except for the feeling of him all over her. He's everywhere.
He's on her stomach. His fingers are inside her. And she's squeezing the comforter to death in her fists.
He kisses her lips even though she's too far gone to kiss back. He holds her around the waist, pulling her body into his, his thumb trailing back and forth over her stomach. But he's only still with her for a moment before he's getting up.
"Where are you going?" She peers up at him standing over her.
"Bathroom. I'll be back in five."
"Why five?"
"Bella." He laughs and shakes his head. "I need a shower. Stop asking questions."
Remaining on her back, she reaches out to him, tucking a finger into his waistband, tugging him forward. He takes one step closer.
"Shower? Right now?" She runs a hand down the front of his boxers.
He's frozen.
The next time she brushes over his boxers, she hesitates, then lingers and presses where she feels him hard against her hand. His eyes close.
"Can it wait?" she asks.
"What?"
"The shower." She curves her hand around him through the material. Her heart races and her body gets so hot she starts to perspire because she's not exactly sure what to do.
"Yes," he barely says, face to the ceiling, hips pushing into her touch.
"Off?"
He pulls his boxers down.
She takes him, smooth, into her palm. Hardly touching him, she slides her hand up and down, her fingers stroking. His breathing stops and starts again, a deep breath in, a deep breath out.
He moves his hand to hers. For a second, she thinks he's going to push her away, but instead he covers her hand so that she's holding tighter as she strokes. When his hand falls away she keeps her grip firm even if it feels a little rough to her.
"Mm," a low grunt comes from his chest and shoots into her stomach. "Mm." And like he's lost strength, he drops his hands to the bed, his head down. As his breathing becomes heavier and heavier and his hips move with her strokes, warmth and wet spills into her hand.
Dreamy-eyed, he leans over her for a kiss before he picks his shirt up off the floor. He wipes her palm with it. Closing the material around her hand, he cleans her fingers.
She's having trouble looking him in the eye, though he doesn't seem to be looking away from hers. She's pretty sure he liked it, but she can't kid herself into believing that Angela couldn't have done it better.
But then, a knee to the bed, Edward moves his body over her, lies on top of her, all of his weight on her and kisses her neck about a dozen times. Kisses until she starts laughing, insecurities drifting away. He laughs, too. Laughs and kisses her.
"Were you really going to take a shower?" She skims her fingers up his spine.
"Yeah."
"To...?"
"Yes." Rolling to his side, he lifts his arm around her head on the pillow. He strums her hair at her temple like he would guitar strings.
"Edward, talk to me."
"This is talking."
"What were you thinking?"
He sighs and his face falls serious. "I wasn't going to ask you to. I don't know what all... went down with you and... I don't—I didn't want to push you."
"But wasn't that better than a shower alone?"
He appears to be holding back a smile. He drops his forehead to her shoulder. "That's one way to put it." He kisses her arm, sliding the kiss up, around, and across her shoulder to the base of her neck.
She shrinks away at the tickle.
His tongue followed by lips, he drags the kiss along her chin to her mouth.
"Bella," he says. "I can't believe it's still only morning."
"Today's just starting." Bella glances to the window. Through the frost she can see snow coming down. "And it's freezing out there."
"But not in here." He wraps his arms around her. All of his skin. Warm. Hot.
She snuggles toward him, resting her head on his shoulder, her hand on his chest, her leg between his. "Not in here."