The Requisite HEA: Bite Me, Renward
Warning: some might find this somewhat offensive. If you are seriously offended when reading about various sexual activities and perhaps, perversions, ya might want to hit back on the browser. If you are not old enough to read or buy porn, stop here.
A/N: This was the last "official" chapter of the story. There are 4 additional futuretakes that I originally wrote for various charities that will post after this.
"Bella, ah, I don't think this is a good idea," Edward whispered, absently pulling his fingers through his wife's hair. The repetitive motion was soothing, distracting him from burgeoning panic.
Naturally, seemingly at perfect ease with the situation, Bella rolled her eyes and grinned. "Of course, it is, you silly man. Stop worrying. Everything will be fine."
Furrowing his brow, he twisted his wedding band with his thumb. "I-, um, it's not safe, okay. Just- let's not do this."
"Stop it, Edward. You are being overly dramatic." Bella's face was glowing with amusement. In fact, it was readily apparent that she was on the verge of losing composure. Were he not so ridiculously nervous, he would have found her expression beautiful.
"But- but!" he started, wanting to explain just how wrong she was. Edward palmed the back of his neck, trying to calmly determine the best tactic to employ in pointing out her error. Without having her bite my head off. Despite Beth's arrival – he'd won the nicknaming debate after all, never mind that he'd unfairly utilized clitoral stimulation to buttress his argument. Lizzie made him think of sparkling Disney Channel characters for some reason, and his daughter was not that – Bella's pregnancy and post-natal hormones were still at play. He'd learned that almost immediately upon arriving home from the hospital. Not that he minded. Indeed, Bella had given him the two greatest gifts of his life: herself and their daughter. A little irritability was to be expected. Men who did not understand this were clearly stupid and unworthy of their spouses.
While Bella was exceedingly intelligent, oh-so-rarely, she was mistaken in her assumptions – like now. Typically, her misapprehensions fell into two categories. First of all, she continued with the ludicrous denial that she was, indeed, perfect (small misconceptions did not count obviously) and that she deserved to be placed on the highest of pedestals. Edward's unwavering assessment, unchanged since the commencement of their courtship was that that – the pedestal part – was simply what one did with goddesses. It was aggravating and perplexing that she would not accept this as fact.
Secondly, more disconcertingly, on occasion, she was somewhat cavalier with regards to safety, not fully thinking through potential ramifications. It was odd that he'd never noticed this tendency, but it became readily apparent the day he had found Bella tossing Beth far too high in the air – tossing, as in letting go! – of course, to his daughter's giggling and gurgling delight. Edward found this game to be uncomfortably perilous, but instead of stopping the play – who was he to deny his only daughter's entertainment! – he chose to stand watch, ready to swoop in at a split second's notice. It had been nerve-wracking. Other than in their bedroom activities, Edward had definitively concluded that Bella was the more risky of the two of them.
Or perhaps, he was simply overcautious with regard to his offspring.
He scoffed at his own supposition. Overcautious. Really! No such thing!
Bella's eyes narrowed and she pressed her forefinger to his lips to silence him. "I think you need a diversion, Dr. Cullen. You're thinking too much. You need to calm down."
His brows lifted at the suggestive undercurrent of her words. In less time than it took for him to blink, however, undercurrent morphed to overt when her hand reached out to palm the front seam of his pants. At contact, his cock twitched in awakening, happily and traitorously recognizing its mistress, completely ignoring Edward's whining. Through the thin dress wool of his trousers, she stroked him up and down, massaging with damned near perfect technique until he was hard enough to fill her grip. In other words, she groped him for all of ten seconds. Had he not been the recipient of said sublimely pleasurable cock stroking, Edward would have been disconcerted, and perhaps even bothered, by the swiftness of his erection. In many ways, his libido resembled that of a seventeen-year-old boy – always ready and more than willing. But then, he argued, when Aphrodite herself was the one administering the wanking, a quick rise really wasn't so surprising. For the thousandth time, the appropriateness and rightness of his goddess-pedestal stance struck him.
"Bella...," he groaned, his hips involuntarily shifting into her palm to increase contact and friction. "I- I don't think this is a good… fuck… you're trying to distract me… not fair… Oh, God…"
"I think you need to come. Do you want me to suck you off, Edward? Or maybe a quick hand job?" she purred, already moving to unzip his trousers. His mind went blank, forgetting his own name, as she circled her hand around his bare shaft, giving it a playful pump. And he nearly forgot to breathe as her thumbnail tickled the ridge of his head before sneaking up to wipe away a drop of pre-ejaculate.
"God, yes!" he grunted, roughly clenching a nearby decorative pillow. Normally, he would have ignored such fringed and embroidered decorations as he viewed them to be superfluous and fragile – since Bella believed them to be necessary, however, they possessed many – but for now he clawed the downy cushion, thankful to have something to absorb his excitation. "Please."
"Mouth or hand?"
He groaned again, visualizing Bella on her knees with shiny red lips stretched and smiling around his hard-on, bobbing and licking and sucking until he could no longer resist grabbing her by the hair and thrusting. Fuck! She always does this to me! he half-complained. Goddamnit! Please suck it…
During their month-plus-long period of penetration abstinence – note, just a foregoing of penetration, not everything. God! – if it were even possible to improve, Bella had honed her mouth fucking skills to a point where blowjobs were more art than action. She could – and she knew it – reduce him to a squirming, flailing, grunting pile of bones in less time than it took most women to put on lipstick. Edward almost felt pity for the hordes of men who would never know such pleasure. Almost. No, that wasn't true at all. In reality, he found it empowering. Let them covet! Mine!
With regards to oral gratification, it wasn't as though he'd been slacking either. Almost nightly, even now that they were allowed to fuck again – thank God – he found himself gleefully looking up at her orgasming body from between her spread legs. According to Bella, his expertise in cunnilingus was deserving of medals and trophies – she even gave him one once just for fun. Where she'd purchased an erotic trophy, complete with a shiny, brassy cock and balls, was beyond him, but he found her gesture endearing.
Bella apparently didn't realize that licking her pussy was as much for him as it was for her. Her taste and smell and twitching muscles drove him batty, and there were few sights or experiences the world over that could compare to her writhing against his face. In the oral department, whether licking or being licked, Edward always won.
Granted, Beth complicated matters, as babies were inherently cockblockers – never mind that said blocked cock was what spawned her in the first place – but physical intimacy was something neither he nor Bella had been willing to give up. They were just a little quicker about it sometimes. And perhaps a little more creative when it came to the wheres, hows, and, of course, how-to-keep-quiets – Bella was naturally extremely vocal, so they had to find inventive ways to suppress her screams. Despite his daughter's infancy and lack of comprehension, Edward considered it distasteful not to maintain a certain level of circumspection in the house. In some ways, however, it all made the fucking that much hotter.
"Mouth, definitely mouth," he breathed.
Bella released him, smirking at his neediness, only to shift from her position beside him on the couch to the floor in front of him. Happily, he leaned back and spread his knees so she could fit between them, already anticipating the unrivaled pleasure of her mouth – unrivaled, except for her pussy… obviously.
She gazed back and forth between his face and his lap, biting her lower lip, knowing precisely what it did to him. Gripping his cock again, she began working his length, twisting slightly on the upstroke and squeezing the tip. "You like to watch me, don't you? You like seeing your cock in my mouth."
"Yeah," he murmured, already half-drunk from her ministrations as he reached out to trace his fingertip across the edge of her collarbone, naughtily exposed by the unclasped front buttons of her dress. "Fuck… feels good… make me come… Please."
Slowly, sensually, she crawled up his legs, settling her torso across the tops of his thighs. He could feel the outline of her tits pressed against his legs. They were still deliciously plump, ripe and begging to be sucked. He couldn't wait until Dr. Benitez cleared her for nipple rings again. He missed those – the way they felt against his tongue, the slight indentations where metal met flesh, the way she moaned and twisted when he pulled. In fact, he missed those accessories so much that he'd already purchased for her a brand-new set – pretty, shiny rings with gemstone decoration. The jeweler, a skilled craftsman and friend of his piercing bedecked technician, Leah, hadn't even batted an eye when he'd requested real stone danglers and platinum – clearly, to match her wedding ring, as well as every other piece of jewelry he'd gifted to her. One should wear matching metal. It was just classier.
Her tongue, pink and wet, licked him from base to tip, lingering and swirling over his slit to taste him. She was teasing him, knowing that he wanted the friction and pressure of her lips locked around him. But being teased was part of the ritual, and his stomach coiled, knowing what would soon follow.
"More," he whispered, watching her eyes, shining and alight with the potent blend of lust and mischief.
She licked him again, oh-so-slowly, pressing her tongue flat and rougher against him. "Like that?"
Edward nodded and gulped. "More… please. Suck it."
Bella hummed her lips against his shaft, sending shockwaves through his abdomen and thighs. Still teasing, she pulled his head between her lips, only taking him in an inch. Her tongue did sinful things, licking and twirling, and his hips involuntarily shot up to meet them.
"Someone's anxious," Bella giggled, which, unsurprisingly, sent another round of shockwaves through his lower half. Before he had time to whine again – or really blink even – she graciously decided enough was enough and impaled her mouth on his damned near pulsing cock. The heat – the heat was sublime and her cheeks felt like tightening velvet as they suctioned down.
"Fuuuuck!" he moaned, his hands automatically targeting her hair. Of course, she knew this would happen. Succubus! he concluded as she began bobbing up and down, taking him deeper with each dip of her head. Her mouth formed a tight, hot sheath, molding precisely to his girth and length, and she was simply unrelenting. When he felt himself hit the back of her throat, his eyes rolled back and a stream of garbled curses spilled out.
His fingers tightened, knotting in her loose hair, as his hips lifted in time with her movements. "Fuck, Bella. Christ… you… God, so good…" He shuddered and tugged her hair, very nearly losing any sense of decorum when her teeth lightly grazed sensitive skin. The images and sensations were quickly becoming too much – so much he was sure to climax in short order. But he didn't want that just yet. He wanted more. He panted, "Your mouth… incredible… More. I want to feel you. God, I want to fuck you now… please let me fuck you. I want to come in you."
She halted her motions, looking up through tangled strands of hair. His cock immediately felt the loss of her mouth, but he sighed in tight relief. Predictably, she was smirking again, pleased with herself no doubt. But then, he was pleased with her, as well, so it wasn't as though he could fault her smugness.
"You're greedy tonight, Dr. Cullen," she countered, her voice sultry and low.
Edward grinned, amused but also thankful for the distraction of light banter, as it allowed him a moment to suppress his imminent orgasm. Slightly more lucid, he thumbed her lower lip, now swollen and cherry pink. Pink was a good color on Bella, he decided. Whether it decorated her lips, her cheeks, her tits, her pussy – well, that was always pink – or her ass cheeks, it invariably meant that they'd been doing something very fun. "Damned right, I am. Now get up off the floor and fuck me properly."
Bella's impish smirk fell away and she grinned back at him as she rose from her position and straddled his lap. She leaned in and kissed the juncture of his shoulder and neck, sucking and nipping, as he slid his palms along her bare thighs, up and under the full skirt of her dress. He closed his eyes and inhaled, smelling perfume, fruity shampoo, and sex. It was a heady, intoxicating aroma, and briefly, he debated throwing her across the bed so that he could bury his face between her thighs. Still grinning, he squeezed and kneaded her supple curves, marveling in the smoothness and softness of her skin. Edward didn't think he would ever grow accustomed to the pure joy he felt every single time he touched her like this. He hoped not.
When he reached the apex of her thighs, he'd expected to be greeted with customary dainty lace, silk, or some other feminine fabric. Her taste in lingerie was impeccable – expensive, but astoundingly sexy. But instead the predicted, to his immediate delight, he just found more soft, smooth skin and it was damp.
Fuck.
"I think you like sucking me off, Mrs. Cullen," he murmured, slipping a finger inside and circling her clit with the heel of his palm. Really, while yes, the notion that she got off on getting him off was unquestionably hot, Edward also thought that it was only fair… since his dick certainly responded when he went down on her. He could barely contain himself sometimes. He pulled her earlobe between her teeth. "You are already wet."
Bella moaned into his neck and pushed her hips down, grinding against his hand, searching for friction. Impatient, he released her and pulled her body to align with his. Poised at her entrance, he reached up from his hold on her hip to brush her hair back, a startlingly tender touch compared to the lust driven movements before.
"God, I want you," he whispered, closing his eyes and touching his forehead to hers. "So fucking much."
Her mouth captured his in perfect timing with the downward shift of her hips. Two loud, thankful moans – ones entirely too loud, considering the occupant of the bedroom-slash-nursery down the hallway – filled the room. Once their skin met, she paused, and he could feel her muscles stretching and flexing around him. For a moment, he just kissed her, wanting to show her exactly how he felt, exactly how much he loved and wanted her, despite the lustful urgency of their coupling. And from what he could tell, it seemed as though she was doing the same. The result was a hard, deep – and somewhat sloppy – kiss and frantic, pawing hands. She gripped the front of his oxford as he pulled her tightly against his chest, wrapping his arms around her. Gently he palmed the back of her neck, tilting her head slightly, allowing him to deepen their kiss. Their lips parted, and over and over, in familiar motion and rhythm, their mouths moved. Tongues attacked, retreated, and then attacked again, a sensual, wet, sliding dance.
Not breaking their kiss, her hips lifted, only to slowly descend again. It was a divine torment, experiencing her pussy inch by torturous inch. Between the intimacy of their kiss, the fervent groping, and their connection below the waist, once again, pangs of warning and heat shot down his abdomen. Wanting to feel her come around his cock, he reached between them to thumb her clit as she continued to slide up and down.
"Edward," she groaned between kisses. "Yes, just… like that." Annoyed with the encumbrance of her dress, she grabbed the hem and wrenched it over her head.
Half sighing and half moaning at the sight of her bare skin and hard nipples, Edward answered, "So fucking sexy… Feels so… good. Don't want," Kiss, lick, kiss "to stop."
Her hips swiveled and rocked as he continued to rub her clit. His other hand alternated between squeezing her too-perfect ass and lightly tugging on her too-luscious nipples. It was times like these, he wished for additional appendages. Bella simply had too many touchable parts. It was like shoving a starving man into a candy store, chock full of delectable delights.
In short order, her motions sped and she rode him harder, slapping against his thighs. When it became all too much, knowing he was close, he snaked his arm around her waist and angled her back. Roughly gripping her hips, he thrust his hips upward to meet her downstroke. At the new angle and new depth, her lips parted in surprise, and almost instantly, he felt the telltale clenches around his cock.
"That's it, baby. God, yes… come all over me. Let me… feel it."
"So, close," she panted, tugging the hair at the nape of his neck. "I love you. Fuck, I love you."
He reached down and again thumbed her clit, pressing with the exact force her knew would make her unravel. At contact, Bella sucked in a gasping breath, trying to hold back the scream on the tip of her tongue. When he felt her thighs tremble, he grinned in triumph. "Let go, baby. Fuck, I love feeling you come," he grunted, not slowing. Her legs went limp, and his hips rocked harder into her, driving her over the edge. At the second stroke, she shattered. Her walls cinched down on his cock and it was like pushing through a silk knot, soft and pliable, but oh-so-fucking-tight. After two more harder, quicker, pumps, he followed, pulsing inside her and muffling his own cries in the damp crook of her neck.
For several minutes, they just sat there, exhausted, him still inside of her and tangled together in a mass of sweaty arms and legs.
Breathless, Bella asked, "Feel better?"
Edward chuckled and feathered kisses along her jaw. "Mmm… what do you think?"
"Good, because we have…" she pulled away to glance at the clock, "an hour to get ready before both of our mothers will be here."
Shit.
Fuck.
Nungh!
Edward stiffened, recalling what had required this distraction in the first place. His earlier panic bubbled and he felt suddenly queasy. "I-, Bellllla!"
Bella pressed her lips to his forehead and straightened his glasses for him. "You are a groomsman, and I'm the matron of honor. Blech, matron? Ugh. That sounds ancient. Anyway, Alice will kill us if we don't show. She's spent a lot of time on this wedding – okay a few months but still, you know how she is. It's just one night away – excellent practice for our trip, by the way. I'm sure that between Esme and mom, they can manage Beth."
Visions of electric violet and overly excited clapping hands assaulted his mind. His grip on her hips tightened as panic turned to full blossomed fear. "But… why not Rosalie? She's excellent with Beth. I, um, trust her."
Bella laughed and lightly slapped him on the chest. "I don't think the bride wants to be babysitting on her wedding night. Plus, she's here every day of the week as it is."
Edward scrunched his nose, frowning. "Ah, right. That's probably true."
~O.o~
The moment he entered the room, the babbling commenced, and his trepidation was temporarily, but effectively, silenced.
"Da-da-da-da-da-da-da," she yammered while impatiently reaching up for him to lift her.
While Edward was fully aware of the fact that most children began enunciating hard consonants before soft, it was impossible for him not to feel some measure of satisfaction that she'd vocalized what he counted to be "da-da" before "ma-ma." She always uttered these verbalizations while looking directly at him, proving that she acknowledged her 'words' to be in reference to him in particular. In his mind, she was speaking his name, and that swelled his pride in ways he couldn't begin to explain. Bella had not been pleased, but at least she hid it well.
"Good afternoon, Sunshine," he said, grinning as he picked her up out of her crib. "Did you sleep well?"
"Da-da-da-da-da," she answered, giggling and stretching to curl a saliva-laden fist around his glasses.
Leaning back slightly, knowing this game well – he'd already lost one pair – he answered, "Very good! You are so very smart and articulate. You will make a fine hematologist one day."
She merely giggled again and playfully patted his chin, leaving small, wet handprints along his jaw. His lips twitched, and at least momentarily, he managed to stifle his natural inclination to reach into the rather large box of wet wipes nearby to cleanse her hands – which seemed to always be coated in spit, by the way – as well as his face. Like her mother, his daughter seemed to find his stubble entertaining, especially when he tickled her neck with his cheeks and chin. So, on weekends, Edward forewent shaving, if and only for her amusement. And Bella's. Obviously.
"Ah, well, okay then. You don't have to be a hematologist," Edward corrected as her tiny brow furrowed, as if she actually comprehended. Much like Bella's, Beth's expressions were remarkably communicative. He ventured that he could spend hours watching her take in the world around her. "Though, you should know, that by genetics alone, you would be very successful were you to choose that route. Your mother is brilliant. Did you know this?" Dropping his voice and looking to the door, he whispered conspiratorially, "Although, ah, don't tell her I said this, but Stanford is really the pits – too many theorists and not enough practitioners. She really should have picked Hopkins like me. Thank God, it wasn't MIT… But yes, um, Bella – your mother – is probably the most intelligent person I know. Intellectually… and socially. She's really very good with people, not just science… Much more so than me. Trust me – she used to be my supervisor! Scandalous, I know!"
He paused, suddenly contemplative. Almost wistfully, more talking to himself than anyone, he went on, "I wish I could teach you the people part… but I'll just settle for the rest. I can do that. I can teach you math and music and art. And, erm, I promise that you will win every science fair you enter. And if you want to learn ballet, ah, well, I suppose I can do that, too. But no tutus… But Bella will teach you how to deal with people. She will make certain that you never go through what I did when I was in school. You will never be lonely. No, you will be the happiest child... You know, Sunshine, your mother could have had anyone she wanted. She's beautiful – radiant really – intelligent, and everyone adores her. But for some reason I still don't fully grasp, she picked me." He paused again before kissing Beth's forehead. "I'm very lucky."
Edward cleared his throat and quickly raised his eyebrows into the expression that always made Beth giggle. "But yes, erm, so, my Beth, what would you like to be today?" He lifted her into the air over his head, laughing as she laughed. "A mad scientist like me?" Drop. Lift again. "A concert pianist?" Drop and lift. "Or perhaps, an attorney even? You can do all of these things. I will it make happen." Edward swung around, dancing from one side of the room to the other, eliciting a barrage of tinkling laughs and squeals. "Just not an Astrophysicist, okay? You must promise me that. I can't tolerate any more of those."
Gently, he sat her down on the overly expensive changing table he'd purchased – beautifully and well crafted, and thankfully with classic beige and white dressing… not pink – and proudly noted that Beth was quickly mastering the skill of sitting upright on her own. Very intelligent, indeed!
"Unfortunately, it's time for you to get dressed. Grandma and Nana Renee are coming to stay with you while your mother and I attend Rose's and Emmett's wedding." Edward chuckled, recalling the green tint to Emmett's face when he'd broken down and told them of their impending nuptials. It was intriguing how both of his friends were oddly now taken. Although, considering Dr. Brandon's elaborate planning proclivities, she and Jasper would likely not marry for another five years.
This was their routine. Because of hair and makeup and sexy lingerie and other such things, Bella often required longer periods of time to get ready. As such, being one for efficiency as well as wanting to bond with his only child, Edward had gladly assumed the role of dresser and hair fixer. Over the last six months, he'd become, by his estimation, rather adept at navigating the world of pretty dresses and little shoes – although to his concern and dismay, he noted that his daughter found it quite amusing to throw said little shoes. She considered it a game – she did this with many things actually. But nevertheless, she was always picture perfect – at least until she decided to spit up, which was often. Edward even managed to tame her nest of curls, identical in color and misbehavior to his. In fact, he was a master of tiny, sparkling barrettes [17].
"What would you like to wear? No pink, please. Let's do purple, shall we? Grandma loves purple – ridiculously – so it will please her. No neon, though. Something a bit more subdued… lavender? Yes, lavender it will be." he rambled, proficiently stripping off her shirt and chucking it into the nearby hamper. He sighed and chewed the inside of cheek. "And I suppose it's that time, too, isn't it? Let's be, er, civil today, okay? I don't want to change shirts… again. Please?" His lips turned down, already anticipating the worst.
And like clockwork, the moment he managed to remove her diaper – wearing his ever-present nitrile gloves and smartly having rolled up his sleeves – she decided it was time to urinate, squealing with laughter when he grimaced. If he didn't know better, Edward would have sworn that his baby conspired against him, knowing his neurotic aversion to bodily fluids. Because his daughter managed to urinate, defecate, and throw up on him with alarming frequency. Of course, she never seemed to do this to Bella, and as such, Bella found it hilarious.
He sighed again, cringing but unable to muster an ounce of anger. "Why? Why, Beth? Can't you urinate on your mother for once? Or Emmett? Yes. That would be… perfect."
~O.o~
The ride into the city was nerve-wracking, for once not because of the ridiculous New Jersey drivers – although their maniac speed and failure to observe proper following distance was enough to curl anyone's stomach – but rather due to the fact that Edward had, against his better judgment, left his one and only child with two raging lunatics. Make that three, Edward amended, recalling he'd yet to disprove that Chief Swan was not also borderline insane. Out of four adults, Edward believed that only one – his father – was even the slightest bit… normal. Although, he was even in question, as after all of these years, he had surely been contaminated by his mother's crazy. That shit was viral.
This wasn't the first time he and Bella been apart from Beth for the evening. But it was the first time Edward had had to deal with alternate childcare, never mind that the babysitters were blood relation and as such, should be dependable and trustworthy.
Well before Beth was born, after painstaking study and deliberation, Edward had determined that there was no possible way on earth, in heaven, or in hell that he could stomach the notion of his daughter in daycare. He and Bella had visited countless facilities, all of which came highly recommended and were supposedly top-notch in ratings. And all failed under his scrutiny within moments of walking through the door. Even in the best of institutions, in Edward's opinion, the ratio of caregiver to child was simply too low for his comfort. Additionally, he'd yet to be remotely impressed with the lesson plans he'd reviewed. Too many seemed to be more of a herding and containment operation than a place for education, growth, and nurturing. And, of course, with so many children in one place, the potential for dissemination of communicable bacteria and viruses was staggering. No, Beth would not stay in daycare.
Weeks of nanny searching had yielded little better. The only even remotely reasonable candidate Edward had interviewed – he and Bella had agreed that, despite his social reticence, he would handle interviews, as he was more stringent in his assessments. Or rather he had insisted on it… – was a former literature professor from the University of Maine. Her criminal record was clean, she was pleasantly articulate, and she dressed appropriately. Tangentially, it was disturbing what some women had chosen as interview attire. One woman apparently assumed that she was interviewing for a single-father household and had arrived in a mini-skirt up-to-there. And her stockings had been artfully ripped in all the wrong, or depending on the point of view, all the right, places. Those thirty minutes had been exceedingly awkward. But the professor had been a reasonable choice, other than the fact she had to have been ninety years old. Well, and she fell asleep twice during the interview. She needed a cat, not a baby.
But as luck would have it, just at the point when Edward had been preparing the written request for an extended leave of absence – since Bella had already taken time off, it was only right that he do the same – relief came in the form of a resignation letter from one Rosalie Hale. At that point in time, he hadn't realized just how involved she and Emmett had become, but he'd quickly learned that she'd moved in with Emmett, and due to the company's liberal policies on insurance and benefits, she no longer required employment in the traditional sense. And over lunch with Bella one day, Ms. Hale had volunteered to take on the responsibilities of being Beth's nanny. She wanted practice as apparently, she and Emmett intended on breeding with wild abandon.
Regardless, Ms. Hale was, in Edward's opinion, the perfect nanny. As she'd proven time and time again, she was an expert in all things female, which clearly included children and child-rearing. She read the appropriate journals, including the ever-helpful Redbook, even going so far as to respond to questionnaires and commentary. She'd given him advice on more than one occasion that had invariably been dead right. She was excellent with Beth. His daughter adored her, as they'd had numerous opportunities to bond when she and Emmett had visited. And most importantly, what essentially made Edward's decision for him, was the knowledge that if anyone were to ever break in and threaten to harm Beth, Rosalie Hale would kill him. Or cut off his balls. Either would be fine.
His confidence in his own family was not so firm.
Nervously, Edward glanced over to the passenger seat. He noticed that despite Bella's words of assurance, she, too, wore a slightly pursed expression. And he couldn't decide if that made him feel better or worse. On one hand, at least he had a compatriot in his fret, and it gave his fear some rational merit, as opposed to simply being an effect of one of his neuroses. On the other hand, if Bella was worried, he wondered just how bad the situation really was. Bella never worried. That was his job.
"O-kay?" he queried, trying to keep the stutter out of his voice. Cautiously, he reached across the console to grasp her hand.
Bella looked over and smiled. "It's just a little different, isn't it? I know this isn't the first night we've been away. I'm just nervous about my mom? You know, she's a little flighty. But your mom will keep her in check."
Really? Are you serious? he wanted to scream. It was a struggle to not jerk the wheel.
"Ah, erm, Bella? Are you talking about my mother? The one who walked in today carrying a gigantic purple gorilla that she'd named, er, Twinkletoes? Agh! where is that thing going to go anyway? It takes up half the room! My mother… the same one who- who crocheted our daughter a dozen – one for each month – electric violet sweaters? Or were they pants? I couldn't tell! Ugh, or the one who I've recently learned puts food coloring in her tequila so that it's… what color? What… can you guess? Oh, right, purple! My mother is going to keep yours in check?" Edward was vaguely aware of the escalation and tinge of panic in his voice. His breathing was quickening and a ball of nausea began bouncing around his stomach.
Of course, Bella just snorted and laughed. "She puts food coloring in her liquor?"
Edward slapped his palm to his mouth and groaned. "Fuck. We have to go back…"
Bella sighed and squeezed his knee. "We'll be fine. It's just one night, and we'll call… maybe a few times. Just to check. New York isn't that far, only an hour. If we need to, we can go home instead of staying at the hotel. Though… I really want to stay overnight…" Edward wasn't deaf. He heard exactly what she intoned in her last statement.
Risking another quick glance, he took in her appearance. In the hubbub of rapid-fire explanations and directions to his family regarding Beth's schedule and feeding requirements, he'd barely had a chance to notice Bella's attire for the evening.
Like always, she was immaculately put together. Her complexion was flawless, pale with dark eyes and rose-stained lips, and her hair was up in an elegant knot that made his fingers twitch with the urge to unravel. She'd termed it a chignon… whatever that meant… either way, whatever it was, it was fucking sexy. And her dress, its silk a blue so dark that it was almost black, hugged her curves in ways that made him want to strip it off her without delay. Like everything about Bella, somehow, after the baby, defying all logic, in Edward's eyes, her body was even more sumptuous and mind-blowing than before. She'd wasted little time in returning to the gym, and the effects were readily apparent. Her stomach was once again flat, although to her dismay, still showed tiny evidential marks. They were hardly noticeable, but she'd not been pleased. Secretly, Edward hoped that they would never fade, however, as to him, they were visible reminders of what they'd created together… which was, not surprisingly, an incredible turn-on. Her hips and ass were divine, still perfectly shaped to fit in the cups of his hands. And her tits… God. Edward hoped with every cell in his body that the cup size increase was permanent. Once, she'd mentioned some nonsense about sagging and he'd debated on having her committed. She was delusional. Her tits were cockraising. In fact, he really wanted to fuck them. Right now.
The hotel really was an excellent idea, despite the reservations of leaving Beth overnight. She would be sleeping anyway, he rationalized, only waking up for her nightly bottle. Surely, they could manage that, especially considering the laundry list of detailed instructions and emergency information they had left. Beth will be fine, he chanted, bolstering his confidence. Because selfishly, he wanted his wife all to himself… just for a little while. He wanted to hear her screams – something he admittedly missed – and he wanted to be able to take all the time he wanted. He wanted to fuck her for hours without any distraction and give her more orgasms than she could keep up with. I can have her for one night… That's okay, right? he questioned.
When he met Bella's eyes, he smirked, realizing that his appraisal had not gone unreciprocated. "Are you- are you eye fucking me, Mrs. Cullen?"
Bella's lips parted and her tongue slowly licked along her plump bottom lip in transparent seduction. "You're wearing that suit again, Edward. The one that makes me nearly orgasm just looking at you. How do you expect me not to?"
"So, she'll be fine, right? We can… ah, have one night? Erm, alone? At the hotel?" he questioned, blatantly begging her to assuage that last tinge of guilt he'd managed to mostly dampen with his own reasoning and rationalization.
Bella nodded, grinning. "We'll call… and then, Dr. Cullen… well, I really hope you aren't planning on sleeping. I'm going to fuck you senseless."
His eyes widened and he immediately matched her grin. "Ah, Bella? Um, that's my line."
~O.o~
"That… went well… don't you… think?" she panted.
Edward didn't answer, as his mouth was otherwise occupied. He did nod, which changed the angle of his tongue's movements, which in turn, not surprisingly, elicited a very loud moan, thus granting one of his desires for the evening – volume.
"Fuck, your tongue…" she went on, but apparently losing her train of thought. "There, there… oh, God!"
In reality, the evening had gone well. Of course, with Dr. Brandon at the helm, nothing less had been expected. At least in terms of aesthetics and choreography of events, his current supervisor was a perfectionist, rivaling even Edward in her obsession – the difference was, however, that Edward obsessed over far more important things than parties. And fortuitously for the new Mr. and Mrs. McCarty, there had been neither ruffles nor pink. Considering past experience, Edward had walked into the ballroom fearing an abundance of the wretched color. But thankfully, as it were, Dr. Brandon seemed to have finally relegated the shade to babies and Powerpoint presentations – her presentations, not his. While it had taken some, time, some effort, and considerable personal discomfort, he'd effectively convinced her that such girlish hues had no business in his chemical structures, in his spectroscopic data graphs, or in any other scientific figure he presented.
Either way, for their wedding, Ms. Hale and Emmett opted for the same blue-black of Bella's gown, white, and deep red for floral arrangements. Edward found these colors palatable.
In fact, the entire ceremony had been far more pleasant than Edward had hoped. Initially, the idea of serving as a groomsman had been daunting and downright terrifying. He'd never participated in a wedding himself – other than his own, but obviously, that was different – and he feared the expectation of having to make some speech or other such nonsense. Speeches, but for the exception of purely technical data pertaining to his area of expertise, were… evil. Edward ventured that he had just assumed to have his eye gouged with a hot poker than stand in front of a mass of people and speak about love and friendship and futures (his rambling soliloquies touting his love for Bella withstanding). A toast was just incomprehensible
Thankfully, Emmett seemed to abhor tradition. So, there had been no groomsmen speeches. Edward's only task, other than to stand in the front of the audience with the rest of the wedding party – which wasn't altogether horrific since he'd kept his eyes on Bella the entire time – had been to walk Emmett's very elderly grandmother down the aisle during the processional. That responsibility had actually been fairly entertaining, as her hearing aids were ostensibly on the fritz and she spent the entire trek down the aisle loudly speculating on the sexuality of the guests they passed. Mrs. Myrtle McCarty had also tried to grope his ass on more than one occasion and she'd termed him a 'stud muffin', much to Bella's amusement. The old woman was clearly senile, but she was delightful. Granted, were she Edward's relation and not Emmett's, his opinion might have been different.
Quickly, he looked up and chuckled, "Well, yes, you are fucking my tongue. Or perhaps, rather the opposite, since I seem to be the one doing the work." Before she could retort, he darted back down and resumed his licking and lapping, vowing silently not to stop until he'd felt her thighs lock around his head and shake uncontrollably at least twice.
Now that they were confident that Beth was safe, sound, and more importantly, asleep, Edward felt free to concentrate on the purpose of their overnight stay. Of course, he'd called his father – not fully trusting his mother, as her perspective was always askew – numerous times between the service, the reception, and whatnot… just to make sure. And strangely enough, his father patiently answered the phone each time and told him precisely what he needed to hear. Carlisle Cullen was a kind man and he evidently understood and respected Edward's consternation.
"Christ, Edward… down… more… oh my fuck… Edwaaaaarrrddd!" Bella squealed, just as her thighs clenched down around his ears. Not daring to stop, he lapped at her clit with the flat of his tongue, knowing she wanted the pressure and friction. Adding in a low-frequency hum, she nearly came off the bed.
His wife was probably the most sensual creature he'd ever encountered. And currently, her eyes were clamped shut and her features were twisted into an expression of absolute, unadulterated bliss. Her lips were open, and incoherent, aimless curses were streaming out of her, increasing in volume with each pass of his tongue. Pointing ceiling-ward at attention, her nipples were pert, begging to be tugged and pinched, and her chest was heaving from heavy breathing. It was fortunate that she was in such good shape cardiovascular-wise, as he planned for her to be in this condition all night long.
Abruptly, her fingers wound in his hair, almost too tightly, holding his face to her pussy – as if he'd leave! Inwardly, he performed a proverbial fistpump as he knew what was to follow. At once, both fascinated and inordinately concupiscent, he watched, never ceasing his ministrations as her body shuddered beneath the force of her orgasm. Her back arched off the bed and she wailed his name. Bella was breathtaking, and like always, his dick was dying to replace his mouth. He wanted to cover her mouth with hers and absorb her screams.
When her body quieted, relaxing beneath him, Edward slowly licked around her clit, avoiding it in purposeful teasing. Releasing his grip on her hips, his fingers trailed along her abdomen, slowly circling upward toward her nipples. She moaned and whipped her head side to side when he grazed her peaks with the flats of his palms as he simultaneously nipped the tender flesh of her inner thighs.
"I can't stand it… Edward, too good. Feels too good," she groaned, gripping the sheets beneath her.
It was a godsend that they'd fucked earlier in the afternoon. Otherwise, Edward didn't think that he would have been able to resist her through the pre-wedding preparations, the wedding itself, and the dinner. Bella, ever the mischievous lover, had found enough opportune moments to tease and toy with him that had he not orgasmed already, there was no doubt that it would have been impossible to not steal her away and fuck her in some random closet. While yes, they'd successfully accomplished that feat once before without getting caught, Edward was leery of testing their luck again. Statistically, the odds of being discovered while fucking in public, especially inside of very classy and very expensive hotels, were high. Edward did not want to spend the evening in jail.
"Again?" he queried, looking up briefly, only to duck back down before she even lifted her head from the pillow. Between nips, he sucked on her skin, knowingly hard enough to leave a mouth-shaped red mark. He intended on leaving many of those tonight.
Her answer came in the form of another loud moan, pitched in clear affirmative, which invariably shot pangs of want straight to his painfully erect cock. And of course, Edward, always one to please, responded by turning his mouth from her inner thigh to her clit once more, except this time with the aid of additional manual stimulation by way of two fingers curling inside her pussy. Because they were so well-practiced in this particular art, it took him all of about two seconds to locate the slightly rough patch of skin inside. How some men missed this was beyond him. They obviously weren't trying too hard. After another two seconds, Bella was already grinding her pelvis in time to his fingers' movements to increase depth and force of penetration.
As he continued his quest, Edward couldn't help but to briefly reflect on the remarkable shift in his life. If he'd have been asked two years ago what he believed the remainder of his life would entail, he'd have sadly answered something to the effect of, "Much like the first three decades – alone and wanting." And if asked what he truly wanted, he'd have simply answered, "Someone." Yet, now, everything had changed, he had changed. He had been changed, twice – once by the woman who somehow chose him, and then a second time by the tiny creature they'd made together. His life had taken a complete ninety-degree turn. No longer was he alone – not in the least. Anything but.
Now, if someone were to ask him those same questions, he would have gleefully replied that he had everything he could have ever wanted. Even more. As he'd told Jasper earlier this very evening when he asked about Beth, "Not many people get every single thing they want, plus all of the things they didn't think to ask for."
This happiness was unparalleled. The successes he'd garnered in his career, while gratifying, were but a candle's flame in comparison to a blazing fire. Now, he had it all. And one day, perhaps, even sooner rather than later, he believed that he and Bella might even try to make their little family just a little bigger. Not tonight, however. After Fiji – he'd promised after all.
Before he could delve further into his marveling, Bella's body began to twitch a second time and he couldn't stop the grin from stretching across his face. Unparalleled, he repeated, as his fingers vigorously pumped her wetness, coaxing her over the edge.
"Edwaaarrrrd! God, oh, oh…. Yes… fuck!" she screamed. And there it was – that volume he'd wanted to hear. As she screamed, her thighs shook and he could feel her pussy walls clenching down on his fingers.
"God, you're so fucking beautiful when you come," he murmured, enthralled by her response to his touch. "But I'm not done with you yet."
As she was coming down from her high, still shuddering, he crawled up her body, pressing kiss after wet kiss as he went – the voluptuous arc of her hips, to her soft stomach, to the supple curves of breasts… lingering a moment to gently suck her nipples, twirling and tracing them with his tongue… then moving on to the delicate ridges of her collarbones… to the spot just below her ear that drove her mad. With each press of his lips to her overheated and damp skin, Bella moaned louder, begging him with her voice and hands to claim her mouth. Those pleas, naturally, just made him draw the procession out as long as he could physically stand it.
By the time he reached her mouth, she was needy and writhing against him all over again, exactly as he had intended.
"Please," she whined, lifting her hips to draw his head into her slick entrance. "Make love to me."
Edward's brows lifted slightly in pleasant surprise. Because that was a very different request than what they'd originally had in mind when they'd decided to stay overnight. They'd intended on playing and being very naughty. So, yes, it was very different, but that particular plan-altering request was one that Edward was only too ecstatic to grant. Making love to Bella was borderline transcendental.
"God, Bella," Edward breathed as he slid into her. "Anything. Anything you want."
Allowing himself a moment to adjust, he stilled once their hips met. As he felt her constrict her muscles around his cock, his lips dropped open and his eyes nearly rolled back
"Do… you have… any idea?"
"Tell me," she groaned. His parted lips hovered just above hers. When she spoke, he could feel their softness lightly brushing against his skin. "Tell me what I feel like."
Edward snapped his eyes to hers and kissed her softly, reverentially almost, sweeping his tongue across her lips. His hips withdrew and little by little pushed back in. Every muscle in his body was taut and poised to spring, instinctually wanting to dive into her and fuck her into oblivion. But the restraint to hold back and take it all slowly and deeply made it all the more consuming.
"You're so warm," he started, kissing her between each syllable. "It's unbelievable how hot you are… around me…and when you are wet like this, it's so… fucking good." Articulation was astoundingly difficult to claim when he was inside of her.
Bella's legs lifted and wrapped around his waist. The result was fantastic depth. "And you're so tight around me. I don't know how. But fuck…."
"Like my mouth?"
"God," he panted, almost dizzy. The friction and tightness was incredible. At this pace, he could feel every dip, curve, every nuance of her flexing muscles. "Better… It's like you were made for just me…like we fit together perfectly… And that?" he managed, stopping when she clenched down on him as he tried to withdraw again. "I can feel that. It's like you are trying to hold me inside you… like you don't want me to leave."
"I don't," she groaned.
The softness of their earlier kisses gave way to intense, almost frantic efforts to connect. In Edward's mind, the concept of too close was nonexistent. He wanted every plane of his body attached to hers, and he was unsure if he ever wanted to leave it.
With each downstroke, her hips rose in perfect, practiced rhythm. Each time his hips pulled away, her pussy gripped him, just as he'd described, like she was refusing to allow them to separate, even knowing it was but for a second. Instead of screams, the room was filled with soft, breathy sighs, quiet moans, and wet skin coming together.
Edward curled his arms beneath her shoulders, pulling their hips tighter together, slightly increasing the speed of his thrusts. "What does that feel like to you, Bella?" he grunted, turning her question around. And truthfully, he wanted to know. He wanted to know exactly how she felt when he was inside of her like this.
Her mouth latched onto his once more. Against his lips, she whispered, "It's like I can't get close enough." Edward whimpered in agreement, thrusting as deeply as physically allowable. She cried out and her nails dug into his back.
"Every time… you enter me, it's like I'm being stretched and filled and… all I can think about is… how I never want it to… stop. It's like I'm drunk on you… I just want more… I want… your weight pressing… into me. I want… you on me… inside of me… everywhere. Every place… you touch, it feels like I've… been shocked… and it's… God. I can't think of anything but you… It's been like that from… the beginning. And it's never stopped… From the moment you touched me… I was ruined for anyone else."
Edward's mind spun out at the implications even as his hips responded in possessive reaction. Yes, yes, the same, he wondered, stunned and in awe.
"Love you. Love you. Love you," he chanted, driving into her over and over. "So beautiful. Fuck, I love you, Bella."
"Don't stop. God, Edward, so close… oh, fuck. There…there… oh, God!"
Her orgasm was mounting, mere seconds away. Even if his cock couldn't feel her walls tightening and quivering, Edward knew she was close. His knowledge of her body's tells was unsurpassed. After all, he'd spent months of his life happily studying it. He could hear her orgasm in the way she panted, the way her fingers raked down his back, and by the urgency of her lips on his. He could even tell it in the pounding of her heart, which when their chests were pressed together, felt like a stampede.
Well, and her pussy certainly told him. Because his cock most definitely could feel that.
Mouth agape in a silent scream, he felt her body completely fall apart, shivering and twitching from head to toe. Having forcibly restrained himself for what seemed to have been hours, no sooner than he felt her clamp down on his cock, he was coming. Hard. And long. It was like he couldn't stop. And it was everything he could do to not collapse on top of her once he'd finally finished.
Thankfully, expensive hotels in New York City offered very large and very comfortable king-sized beds.
Minutes, hours, years later – he wasn't entirely certain, as his mind had decided to leave his body for a while – he started awake only to find Bella on her side and looking at him more intently than he'd have expected. And her expression was rather lascivious. She was eye fucking him, not bothering to hide her staring. Again.
"Are you serious?" he inquired, not comprehending how she could still want more. Of course, he could oblige. It wasn't as though his cock wouldn't respond. All she had to do was say 'come hither' and it sprang. In fact, he was more than a little delighted with the notion of being inside of her again.
"I told you, Dr. Cullen, I hope that you weren't planning on sleeping. I'm not done with you."
Edward had all of a split second to process that her voice had reacquired that sultry purr-like quality – the one that communicated she wanted to play. And he was slightly confused – albeit happily. He was fine making love to his wife… and fucking her. Back-to-back even. Sweet then rough. Jekyll then Hyde. It was like cake… and eating it. Or something like that.
"Ah, um, Bella?"
She winked, licked her lips, and slowly brought her thumb up to his. "While nothing compares to making love to you, who said that was all that I wanted? I still want to scream. And maybe… I want to hear you scream."
Fuck. Goddamnit, okay!
"Oh, you wicked girl," he breathed, his cock immediately hardening, as his tongue darted out and tasted… copper. His brain pole-vaulted somewhere into the sexual stratosphere as her brows lifted suggestively and her thumb slid past his lips and into his mouth.
"Now, I want you to fuck me… Lestat."
THE "Official" END
[17] Responsible parenting note: Tiny bows and such can be choking hazards, especially if the baby can reach them and pull them out. I put this in because I think the image of Eddie fixing the baby's hair is kinda hilarious and cute as shit. Anyway, just be aware of the risk.
[18] Somewhere buried in this chapter was a quote from BD. Can you find it?
[19] Oh, and that last line is from where? That's right… Chap 1, ehe.