A/N: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. I own a plan for this story.

PS - I know you guys are worried about Stringward's school stuff. Hang on just a little bit longer and let him enjoy this, please?

38

For a few seconds, I can hardly react, can hardly breathe.

Did she actually—Does she really? Me?

The soft brushing of her lips against mine brings me back to myself, and I slide my hands up and down her sides nervously.

"You're sure?"

While this may be my first time, she doesn't exactly let many guys share this with her.

God, I want to share this with her.

She nods and looks up at me, her fingertips stroking my throat. "So sure. If you—"

I pull her into a kiss deep enough to drown in. "I want to. I want…" After swallowing deeply, I admit, "I want you to be my first."

I don't tell her I want her to be my only. But I do.

She pulls me down with her to the bed and helps me off with my clothing. As I let her undress me, I'm a tumbled mess of love and desire, nerves and want.

Uncertainty

I don't know how to make this good for her.

"I probably won't—" Last long. Make you come. Be any good.

"Shh. It'll be wonderful. Because it'll be with you."

My nerves slide away along with the last of my clothes. I'm naked before her in so many ways.

But she takes good care of me. Just the way I've worked so hard to care for her.

"You're beautiful," she whispers. She curls a soft hand around me and strokes just a couple of times, pulling long, low moans from my throat. It feels so good.

Too good.

Pushing her hand away, I reach up and slide the strap of her top down, moving to press soft kisses against her collar bone, and once it's revealed, to her breast. Together, we pull her top off, and then with shaky hands, I push the fabric of her panties down her legs.

Breaking the kiss, I prop myself up on one elbow to just look at her.

She's all soft lines and full curves, imperfect and yet perfect, too. I take one fingertip down her ribs, over the roundness of her belly and to her hip, then slide along her thigh.

"I've never seen anything more beautiful," I tell her, awed.

She smiles and I dart my gaze back to her face. Reaching toward my temples, she touches the frames of my glasses. "Can I?"

I nod and let her slip the lenses from my eyes, glad I took the moment to really look at her before the world goes fuzzy. She sets my glasses on her bedside table, then shifts until the full length of her body is pressed to mine. There's so much naked skin, so much to feel, and the softness of her thigh pressed against me where I'm aching for her.

I've never felt so much girl before.

"God, Bella," I moan as I pull her into my arms, sweeping my hand over her backside and then along her leg, sliding around to trace the front of her thigh back up. When I touch the soft, wet place between her legs, I grunt, knowing. Knowing she'll let me be inside of her. That I'll get to feel her. Love her.

Be part of her.

"I want you so much," I whisper. I kiss her more deeply then and slip my fingers over silky skin and up to her clit. "Can I—?" My voice is gruff. "I want to make you come first."

She moans and lets me touch her. She touches me too. Probably all too aware that this will be over before it's begun if she doesn't, she leaves the space between my hips alone, keeping her fingertips to the planes of my chest, my legs and spine.

Just when she starts to breathe hard, making the soft, sexy noises that I recognize now as a sign she's about to come, she reaches down and stills my hand. Kissing my throat and then up to my ear, she breathes, "I want to come with you inside."

I bite the inside of my cheek and my cock bobs with the sheer pressure of her words. I feel the head pressing against her skin, and I look down, watch my length contract. A glistening thread connects my tip to her flesh.

The sight of my fluid on her skin makes me throb.

"Howw—?" I ask.

She shifts, pulls me on top of her and spreads her legs so I lie between them. Underneath me, I can see her sex spread open for me, the soft pink, so wet. So wet for me.

My voice cracks when I ask, "Protection?"

She touches my face, pulls my gaze back to her eyes. "I'm protected. But if you want, I have condoms."

If I – If I want.

My mind boggles.

"And if I don't want?"

She doesn't answer, just puts her hand on my hip and pulls me closer until we're pressed together as intimately as two people can be without making love. My face is hovering just over hers, our foreheads and noses brushing, lips so close. "Then… just like this."

She tilts her hips, and I slide along the slick valley, surrounded by silky flesh, my underside pressed against her opening, and I – I can't – I look down between us and it's almost too much.

"You're sure?"

She kisses me, then reassures me, "I want to feel you, Edward. Inside me."

Oh, God.

I lift my hips and feel the head slide along her, down to a place where I just seem to fit. Bracing myself on my elbows, I look into her eyes and whisper, "I love you."

"I love you, too."

She slips a hand between us and grasps me gently, placing me where I need to go.

And there are no more questions. No more doubts.

So slowly, so carefully, I push.

The moan that escapes my lips is inhuman as I sink into perfect heat, soft wetness. Pleasure and her body and—

"Bella." Her one hand threads through my hair while the other urges my hips to keep pressing, until I'm consumed. Hips to hips, body to body. Mouth to mouth.

Inside her.

"Oh my God, Bella." I drop my head to the pillow beside hers, and she wraps her legs and arms around me, keeping me close.

And I know why I waited. I know why.

This moment could never be so perfect as it is with her.

"You feel so good," she whispers in my ear, and I groan. A whole new spectrum of pleasure opens up beneath me as I draw back and push forward again. Bella's little gasp tells me it feels good to her, too, but I can't imagine. If she feels even half as much as I do—

"Nothing," I murmur. "Nothing's ever. Fuck, Bella, inside you, it's…"

"Tell me."

"So warm and wet and…" There are no more words. None. And so I kiss her instead, moving inside of her in slow, shallow strokes, trying to keep myself together.

With gentle touches, she teaches me how to make love to her. A hand on my hip. A nudge with her thigh. A gasp and a whisper of my name as she grasps me tighter.

After I don't even know how long, after pressing into her so deeply and then retreating again and again and again, I feel the pressure building beyond my ability to control. Slick with sweat and desperate, I press my mouth to hers, then beg, "I want to feel you, baby."

She slides a hand between us, and I'm almost overcome, just with the knowledge that she's touching herself while I'm inside. Her other hand constricts around the nape of my neck, nails digging in, and her eyes clench shut.

"Edward," she breathes.

"Bella."

"Edward." Her voice is breathier now, and my need is so great, everything ready to burst. Then her head tips back, the long line of her throat exposed. Her legs tighten around me and she screams my name again.

With the most shocking relief, with heat and love and the unbearable sensation of her body squeezing me, I let go then, press my open mouth to her cheek, my forehead to her pillow.

And I pour myself into her.

Heart thundering, everything liquid and my body pulsing into hers, I come inside her.

I become one with her.

And even then, gasping through the glow, I know that nothing will ever, ever be the same.