Enjoy.
Chapter 11: Living in the Moment
As we stared into one another's eyes, I watched the burning desire in his change, and the tortured look I'd come to know, return for a brief second before he closed his addictive green eyes, denying me my drug. His lips pressed together and he squeezed his eyes, as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Then he let out a long breath.
"I'm sorry," Edward muttered. But sorry for what, I didn't know.
Sorry for kissing me? I wasn't sorry about that.
Sorry for stopping? He could quite easily make that right.
Sorry for something else entirely? If that was it, I didn't know what that could be.
Then he opened his eyes, glancing at me quickly, not quite meeting my eyes, before turning to stare out the window. In that brief second as his eyes flashed to me, I saw that they were now cooled and controlled.
Damn it! My inner floozy swore. Then she turned and grappled at Edward's collar, begging him to screw control; to let go of whatever it was that held him back, and take her right then and there.
I had no judgment for her this time. I found that I felt the same way she did and if I could figure out how to be as bold as my inner floozy was, I would have done it. But to my disappointment, I was not such a woman. Instead I sat there mute and wounded, staring at my lap, wishing I was able to understand him.
I looked back up to Edward, noticing that his demeanor was calm and casual, but his hands were balled into tight fists.
More confused than ever, I turned forward and clutched my purse in my lap and chewed on my lip. My self-esteem took a dive, as my insecurities flourished.
Had I done something wrong? I couldn't think of one thing I'd done that would be just cause for this behavior, but yet he was acting so strange, so I must have done something.
The car stopped, Edward unlocked his door just before it was opened by the driver. Edward exited the car and turned to help me out, but quickly dropped my hand and stepped away, keeping a small distance between us.
He was so hot and cold. I didn't know which way was up or down.
As I stepped away from the car, I looked around curiously. Whatever hotel this was, we were not at the front lobby entrance. My eyes swept the surroundings, finding it to be some dank, dimly lit, cavernous, cemented parking garage, of some sort.
The driver shut the car door and loped back to the driver's seat to drive away. The glass door ahead of us was opened by a uniformed man, who greeted us into a large, posh elevator waiting area that was warm and welcoming, complete with an edgy couch and end tables topped with fresh vases of fresh, exotic flowers that filled the space with a light, pleasant fragrance.
"Good evening Mr. Cullen," the man welcomed warmly. He then gestured for us to enter an elevator, already called and waiting. He entered behind us, holding a card in his hand and reached up to a reader near the floor buttons, but Edward shook his head and called him off, telling the man he was fine. The man stopped mid-motion, put the card away, and dipped his head, conceding the request, then stepped out of the elevator, back into the waiting area and bid us a goodnight.
The doors closed, separating us from the uniformed man, leaving us in the elevator, alone. I felt the electric hum—begging me to touch him, kiss him, feel him, anything to close the small space between us—heighten. Edward pulled out a card from his wallet, swiped it into a reader, then selected the very top button labeled PH and slipped the card back into his wallet.
He backed up and leaned against the hand railing that lined the walls in the opposite corner of the elevator that I stood, his eyes closed and his hands clasped the rail so tightly, his knuckles were white. He looked severe, almost angry. I couldn't help but wonder if he was regretting agreeing to bring me here. When he opened his eyes, but didn't look in my direction, managing to look everywhere but—quite the feat considering the small space we were enclosed in.
Confusion was my companion for the duration of the ascent, as Edward, distant and quiet, appeared to struggle with whatever it was that I couldn't figure out.
The elevator chimed, signaling that it was about to arrive at the floor. A few seconds later, the elevator stopped and the doors parted, opening to a light, quiet, generic but elegantly designed hallway.
I hesitated, not certain that I should exit, I waited for Edward's cue.
Edward drew in a deep breath and straightened upright. He then finally looked over at me, his features softened the very moment he did, and a crooked smile melted across his face. He lightly jerked his head toward the elevator doors and reached out his hand, sliding it across my low back. The hum I felt between us heightened and seemed to thicken to something almost tangible.
"Come on," he whispered softly. His sudden change of emotion sent me into another tailspin of confusion.
What was with him? Did the one guy that woke me up and turned me on in more ways than I could have ever imagined, have a multiple personality disorder or something?
I almost laughed aloud with how unfunny the possibility was, because that would be just my luck.
Leave it to me to go nuts over the nut job.
I sighed.
The hallway was quiet; the only sound was our movements as we walked down the short way to the door he stopped us in front of. He pulled out the same card he'd used in the elevator and slid it into the door, opened it and gestured for me to proceed ahead of him, as he slid it back into his wallet. I obeyed, walking into the dark room.
"Here we are," Edward said flipping on several lights.
The room was no room at all. I was in an entryway of sorts, of a place that looked much more like a large, posh apartment, than anything else.
I fleetingly wondered if my entire apartment could fit into just the living room of the place alone.
Lush, light carpeting draped across the floors, stretching in each direction of the place, giving it an inviting, homey feel—though I'd never seen a home this stunning.
The entry led up to a living room that had a corner built-in fireplace, with a flat screen TV above it, both nestled in to a beautiful, built-in surround. Up on a raised area, between the living room and dining room, sat a beautiful baby grand piano. Off the dining room was a small kitchen with a set of stools nestled up to the counter and on the other side of the living room stretched a small wet bar—the only two areas not carpeted, but beautifully tiled. Just past that was a semi-closed door leading into a dark room that I could only assume was the bedroom.
A shiver of desire spun down my spine at the thought of Edward's bedroom.
Multiple personality disorder or not; my entire being still wanted him more than I'd ever thought it was possible to want someone; no matter the cost, I knew I couldn't walk away from that. Though, to be honest, I was starting to almost hate myself for not being strong enough to be able to.
I shook off the thought. It did no good to hate myself for having feelings I couldn't control. I didn't need to make myself more miserably tortured.
Looking around the space, I noticed that lightly colored window treatments covered the entire wall opposite the door, running along the entire space from the fireplace all the way to the far side of the dining area. I couldn't help but wonder what the view looked like from up here and why he would have such a thing obscured.
Everything was eloquently decorated to the point that I was afraid to touch anything, for fear I might break or stain it. So, I stayed standing where I was, in the middle of the entryway, next to a small table. I heard Edward laid his wallet on the table beside me, which also housed a large, brown, crackle-stained pot with long, decorative, dried flora and fauna standing upright from it
"I know, it's a bit ostentatious," Edward laughed turning to me. "Come on in," he said touching my shoulder, letting his hand casually skim down my arm, setting the skin he touched ablaze, as he stepped away to head towards the bar. "Can I get you something to drink?"
An internal battle between my logical side and my inner floozy immediately sprung up with this question. My logical side argued that I should have a water or soda so I didn't get drunk and do something to embarrass myself. Floozy Bella insisted that another drink or two would help me loosen up and let her take control, which would do me some good.
I could feel the light warmth of the wine I'd been drinking at the restaurant and I knew just one more glass and I could be throwing caution into the wind.
"Sure," I said as I set my purse on the entry table and followed his direction to the bar. I opened my mouth to request a glass of wine, spotting the full wine rack, but the words, "water would be great, thanks," came out instead.
My inner floozy huffed, glared nastily, crossed her arms and tapped her foot at me. My logical side smirked, pleased.
I guess I needed an extra glass of wine to just simply have the courage to go for the extra glass of wine that would let Floozy Bella take the reins.
Edward smiled, pulled out a bottle of water and handed it to me.
"So, what are you going to play?" I asked, as my curiosity flamed while he pulled out a bottle of water for himself and walked around the bar to the side I stood on.
He chuckled lightly, "You actually do want to hear me play, huh?" he asked raking his hand through his unruly bronze brown hair. He smirked and then laughed again more freely this time. "Well, this is your request, so you choose," he said looking into my eyes, causing my jaw to go slack and my breath to let out. "Was there something you particularly wanted to hear?"
"I want to hear something that's yours, something you wrote," I said, dazzled by his eyes into speaking truthfully, remembering him telling me he's written songs. A blush quickly followed my overly truthful reply.
"Something I wrote," he repeated studying my face. I wasn't sure what he was looking for there, but he must have found it, because he then nodded once, as if satisfied with whatever it was. "Did you have a preference over the piano or guitar?"
His question took me off guard. My head jerked back slightly with confusion and then around the room to search for the guitar I'd not seen. When my eyes laid on the piano, I found it. The guitar lay propped up on a stand that sat between the piano and the shaded window; I hadn't been able to see it from the entryway.
Edward waited patiently, with amusement written on his face, for my reply.
"I suppose I'd be pushing my luck if I were to ask you to play them both," I said leaving almost a question at the end, cautiously hopeful that I wasn't asking too much.
"You can have anything you want, Bella," he said softly. His voice was casual, but there was an undertone of emotion there I couldn't quite name.
Edward took a drink and set his water down on the coffee table. He stepped up to the raised area and bent forward to grab his guitar, affording me with the most marvelous view of his butt.
Oh God.
There had never been another being that had ever graced the face of this earth that had a sexier ass than Edward. I was absolutely certain of it.
He then straightened with the guitar in one hand and turned around to face me.
I quickly pulled my composure together, just in time for him to look up at me through his impossibly long lashes. Then, he pulled the piano bench out and sat down, facing away from the keys. Feeling silly for standing there, I walked to the sofa that faced him and sat down, feeling glad I'd chosen water as that didn't stain if I spilled it.
Edward began to pluck at the strings, making minor tuning adjustments. There was something sensual with the way he moved; adjusting the guitar, plucking the strings. When he was done adjusting the sound of each string, he made one long strum along all the chords. Watching him went right through me and I found myself shifting in my seat.
"Something I wrote, huh?" he asked looking up at me with a playful narrowing of his eyes.
I nodded, forcing myself still.
"As you wish, Bella," he said, paused for a moment, readying his fingers on the strings and began to play.
I was mesmerized.
I hadn't thought that the beautiful creature that was Edward could become more so to me, but the way he lost himself in the song, and hearing the music he played with his long, nimble fingers was breathtaking and completely sexy. And then knowing he had written the beautiful sounds, made me feel awestruck and insignificant at the same time.
Was there anything he couldn't do?
When the song ended I had the urge to clap, but felt too silly to do so. Instead I forced myself to find my voice.
"Edward, that was… amazing," I breathed honestly, unable to come up with a better adjective to describe how extraordinary it really was.
"Thank you," he said, breathing a small laugh. He smiled, accepting my compliment gracefully, though seeming a bit embarrassed to do so.
"Really, I don't think there would be a soul who wouldn't fall in love with that song…" I trailed off unable to find words to express it right. "Do you have lyrics written for it?"
"That melody was stuck in my head like a weed, demanding my attention and wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it out. But the words to accompany it have continued to elude me. Maybe someday I'll figure them out," he said with an air of regret in his voice that he couldn't find the words to match with the music, "or maybe it just was meant to be as it is, without lyrics."
"Would you play another one, please?" I pleaded, realizing I had become addicted to his music. Just as everything else about him—I needed more.
He pulled his hand through his hair before glancing up at me, flashing my favorite crooked smile. He looked as in debate for a moment and then grinned mischievously.
My interest piqued as I watched him strum out the first several notes and tried figure out what the mischievous look was about. My debate was abruptly abandoned when I was distracted by the fact that I recognized the song—it was one of my favorite Rules of Caius songs.
I laughed. "Not fair! That's cheating!" I piped up, interrupting his playing. "You should have known I would be able to call you out on that one, that's a Rules of Caius song!" I rebuked him teasingly. "Did you really think I wouldn't recognize one of their songs? Or were you seeing if I was paying attention?"
"You're right, that is a song Rules of Caius came out with," he laughed teasingly, clearly enjoying his own joke as he resumed playing the song.
His words took a moment to sink in. "Are you serious?" I asked skeptically. "You're telling me you wrote that?"
"You don't think I could have? I have to say I'm rather offended," he said sounding serious and hurt, but continued to effortlessly and flawlessly play the tune.
"That's not what I meant and you know it," I said a bit miffed.
He laughed again, breaking his façade of a wounded ego. It was louder and freer than I'd heard him laugh before. The sound was almost as beautiful as the notes he played and it annoyed me further that I couldn't stay angry at him for messing with me.
"I know," he paused. "You know, you're rather cute when you're angry?" He grinned.
I rolled my eyes at him.
"But yes, I am serious, this song is one of my favorite pieces," he admitted. "And this one," he added, picking his fingers over the guitar strings, changing the notes from the song he'd been playing, to another I too readily recognized.
"Really?" I questioned.
"Really," he said still playing. "I've written several of their songs." He clenched his jaw as if wishing he could take back what he'd just said.
"How did I not know that? They're one of my favorite bands. Besides, I would think that something like you writing songs for them would be something the media would have crawled all over by now," I challenged.
"Well, I've gone to great lengths to make sure that exact thing didn't happen. And immensely glad I did. You can imagine all too well, how they would pick apart every last one of the songs and what kind of garbage they'd claim that they each meant. I'm sure they'd claim I've had even more engagements, weddings, near-weddings, divorces, hookups and lovechildren than they've already fabricated," he groaned as he rolled his eyes and shook his head, disgusted at the thought. "No. One of the best things I've done was making sure I had a non-disclosure clause on my song writing. Plus, especially now, I love knowing that a song is a success because of the song itself, and not because it had my name attached to it."
"I'll take it to the grave," I vowed.
He continued to play out the song through the chorus and I got lost in the beauty of him playing, until he broke the spell over me by adding, "You know, I'm actually kind of surprised it's not come out. But then again, other than my family, maybe only a dozen people know—like Dem and Felix, of course."
"Not that I'm complaining… but if it's something you keep so guarded, why would you tell me then?" I asked unable to understand why he'd divulge something he obviously considered so protected and private with me; someone he barely knew.
He laughed without humor. "That's one of the problems, I seem to always say too much when I'm talking to you," was his simple reply. He sighed, finishing out the last few notes of the song and shook his head. Finished with the song, he set down the guitar.
Say too much? Was he serious? Other than the enormous confession he'd just divulged, I felt like I knew next to nothing about him. He always gave cryptic replies and stilted answers, or redirected the conversation away from himself and onto me. If he thought he said too much to me, he must really be the recluse that Emmett had accused him of.
Edward stood up and walked over to me. "Come here," he said softly, as a request, reaching out his hand in offering. I stood from the couch and took it; feeling the electric surge I'd expected, pass through our hands. He gave my hand a light squeeze, led me to the piano bench and then let go of it as he slid onto the far side of the bench facing the keys this time. He offered his hand to me again with a simple request, "Would you sit with me?"
"Won't I be in your way?" I asked feeling like I would be very much in the way.
"Not at all," he promised. "Besides, you were much too far away over there. I feel better when you're right beside me."
For the fraction of a second, I wondered if maybe that was one of the things he'd meant when he'd mentioned he said too much to me. But I was quickly distracted from that thought, when his emerald eyes looked up at me bashfully and a timid smile played his lips, causing my heart to leap up into my throat. It felt like I was going to choke on the thing, which worried me because I most definitely did not need Edward to have yet another memory of me coughing and gagging—the one he'd already had was one too many. Thankfully, I felt it drop back down in my chest, but as soon as it did, it began to beat so ferociously loud, it was as if someone was holding a microphone up to the thing. I fervently hoped he couldn't hear it as I granted his request and sat beside him.
Edward hummed a sound of contentment.
"What?" I asked baffled, feeling self-conscious about my racing heart.
"You look especially beautiful when you're blushing," he admitted and then smiled wider when his compliment made my cheeks grow redder.
"Now, what to play for you next…" he contemplated, his fingers hesitating just over the keys.
Edward smiled softly and then his fingers began to dexterously move across the keys. The song was complex, but relaxing and tranquil. It was definitely one I'd never heard before, but very much hoped I could hear again sometime.
"This one is my mother's favorite," he admitted finally.
I felt a twinge, touched that he would think to play something as personal as his mother's favorite song that he'd written. I sat in awe watching the way he played and it held me captivated, as he played out the last of song.
"I can see why," I admitted. "It's lovely."
He smiled, breathing a small laugh, surely to a private joke that was brought about by something I said. But when I looked up at him to ask I was snared into his eyes. As they lingered on me, I could feel the humming between us ratchet up a few notches causing me to have to work harder at keeping myself from doing something rash.
"There's one that's brand new," Edward spoke, breaking the trance between us. "It's far from complete, but the little I have so far has been stuck in my head constantly the last couple days. You can be the first to hear it if you'd like, and tell me what you think," he said suddenly looking nervous, as if he almost wished he wouldn't have brought it up.
"I'd love that," I admitted, for some reason feeling suddenly nervous myself, but I had no idea why.
Edward looked over at me for a beat longer, as if debating on whether he was going to actually play it for me or not. I couldn't help but blush at his scrutiny of whatever he was searching for in my face. Seeing the blush stain my cheeks, he raised his hand to my face and dragged his finger along my cheek, smiling warmly; the feeling shot straight to my core, remembering his comment on my blushing. Then, he turned back to the keys and began to play.
The song—incomplete or not—was moving; it was melancholy but sweet, and somehow also haunting and sensual. I could feel the emotion emanating through the music, so much so that I didn't know whether it was going to make me cry or finally throw myself at him.
"It's not much, I know," he said in explanation when he drew his hands away from the keys and onto his lap, "but—"
His explanation was cut off by my lips that were suddenly on his.
Throwing myself at him it was, then. Apparently I didn't need more wine… or Floozy Bella, just Edward's enchanting songs.
He started in surprise to my sudden attack, but a second later I heard him hum lightly in contentment and felt his hand slide along my neck and into my hair.
I reached up to grab a hold of his bronze hair, to pull him more securely to me when I realized how rashly I'd acted. My hands, mid-movement to his hair, stopped and instead pushed against his chest, breaking the kiss.
"I'm so sorry," I said feeling embarrassed, blushing crimson and covering my mouth with my hands.
Edward chuckled and removed my hands from my face, holding them in his. "Don't be sorry for that," he insisted. "And I must say that if this is your way of telling me you liked the new tune, I'll have to make sure to play you all my new works."
I bit my lip with embarrassment of my actions. And then a thought occurred to me, "You were wrong," I told him.
His eyebrows bunched in confusion. "So, that's your way of telling me you didn't like it? What do you do for a song you do like then?" he laughed, wagging his eyebrows teasingly.
"No," I said rolling my eyes. "You were wrong when you warned me about my expectations of you playing for me."
Edward's playful smile faded. He looked at me as if he was painfully waiting for me to give my judgment, but yet wasn't sure if he wanted to hear it.
"It was even better than I had imagined. I would happily listen to you play forever," I confessed.
His green eyes stared dubiously at me as if, despite my transparent honesty, he wanted to, but couldn't quite believe my sentiment. Then, as the gaze lasted, the electricity between us heightened. I found resisting the building urge to beg him to make love to me right then, was down to the last flimsy shreds of willpower I had left.
I watched as his eyes changed; intensified until all that was there was a strong wanting—consuming desire. His eyes further unraveled the last shreds of my willpower until it was down to a few lowly strands that were quickly snapping apart like overly tight guitar strings.
Ping! Ping! Ping!
"Edward." My voice came out as a desperate plea to end the pain I was in having to continue to deny myself from having him. I was to the point where I thought I would lose my mind if I had to endure any longer by holding back what I so hopelessly wanted, when he lifted his hand and tenderly pulled it through my hair and tucked it behind my ear. My eyes fluttered shut and my breathing stuttered with the simple touch that made the pain slightly ebb.
"I'm sorry, Bella," he whispered.
My heart sank at his words, and tried to prepare myself for his rebuff. I opened my eyes, finding my vision was blurred by tears that had already formed, fearing his goodbye, threatening to spill over. I attempted to blink them away.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered wiping a trader tear that had leapt from my eye.
No!
"I can't do it anymore. I am so sorry that I'm not strong enough for you," he murmured so softly, I wasn't sure if that was what he actually said.
For an agonizing second I waited for him to send me away and out of his life forever.
"Please," the word escaped through a hitched breath, surprising me for being spoken aloud. My one word was a plea, begging desperately for him not to say the next words; for him to want me as much as I wanted him; for him to end my suffering, so I could finally let go of all that I held back. I tried to communicate wordlessly exactly how my entire being came to life when I was around him; how my body had finally found its voice and sang—just for him. But I couldn't find a way to say any of this out loud, so I sat there mutely, hoping he could read my thoughts.
My heart pounded painfully on the verge of shattering, as I waited for him to say the words that would break me more than I realized possible, until that very moment. I turned away, closing my eyes, my head dropping forward. I couldn't look at him, not as he said the words that would destroy me.
But he didn't.
Instead, he grabbed my face, pulling it back up to his and kissed me.
His kiss was hard, without reserve. It was feral and full of raw need, as his soft stubble brushed against my face with the movement of his lips. It felt like a dam had broken loose in him; like everything that I had felt, that had been hidden below the surface, in our first kiss the night before, was now being set free. His kiss now, felt like it held back nothing. Overwhelming emotion and passion radiated from him, through his lips and spread throughout my heated body.
Just like that, my pain and fear of parting from him instantly vanished and the last few threads of my restraint went up in flames. I could feel my desire unleash and flood me. It consumed me and decimated all the restraint I'd had managed to have before then.
In one lithe movement—more quickly and gracefully than I'd ever moved in my life—I slid astride him, not breaking the kiss. Edward welcomed me there by enveloping me in his arms. He moaned when I pressed myself firmly against his lap and I gasped at the feel of him hard and ready for me between my legs.
Our mouths greedily kissed deeper, trying to consume one another. Our tongues caressed as if the other was the sweetest thing it had ever tasted—unable to get enough. Our bodies clutched the other unable to quite get close enough.
Edward's hands moved to grasp the outside of my thighs and slid them up under the skirt of the dress, pushing up the hem until it bunched at my waist. Then firmly, he clasped my exposed hipbones and pressed me down onto him as he bucked against me.
"Oh God!" I panted, breaking the kiss.
His mouth freed of mine, flew back to my skin like a magnet and went immediately to my neck and then traveled down to the exposed top curve of my breasts. He caressed my bare skin with his lips and tongue, driving me crazy as the feeling went straight to my core and fed the desire coursing throughout my whole body. I clutched his hair, holding his lips against me, not wanting to ever release him or the blissful sensations his touch brought with it.
Edward released his hold on my hips and trailed his fingers along the sensitive crease on the front of my legs, from the juncture of my hips down to my core. I shuttered and moaned, freeing my hands from his hair with a stronger urge. I didn't just want him inside of me, I needed him there. I needed it as if needing air; like I needed his drug, his touch, his voice, needed everything else about him. I needed him to connect with me on the most basic, primal level. And I needed it now.
With shaky, but determined, fingers I began to unbutton his shirt, eager to shed every barrier that stood between us, trying to not simply rip the buttons straight off. Only after a few had successfully been undone, Edward slipped his fingers under the edge of my underwear and slid them directly along the outside of my sex. My breathing stuttered as he slowly dragged his fingers across me and a strangled moan escaped my lips.
Oh dear God.
I was about to come apart. I claimed his mouth again with mine, as his fingers hovered, pressing against my entrance as if waiting to be granted permission.
Did he not know how he already owned me? Owned every last bit of me? That he didn't need to ask to do anything? He could do anything he wanted to me. My body was his. I was his. Only his.
I nodded frantically. "Please, Edward," I begged painfully with anticipation pushing my hips against his hesitating hand.
Edward pushed past my entrance with his fingers, entering my core. The surge of feeling that came with any part of him moving inside me was nothing like I'd ever experienced—and I shuddered as I came undone.
"Bella," he breathed in reply, sounding in awe, as I rode out the unexpected and most heavenly climax I'd ever had in my life.
When I came back down from the high, panting, I opened my eyes to find his striking green ones locked on me. He was staring at me with a look of such reverence; it put my embarrassment of being so quick to go over, at ease immediately.
"You are so beautiful," he marveled. Then he licked his lips and claimed my mouth again.
My hands dove for his belt finding that the release I'd just had, had only heightened my desperate need for him, rather than abated it. Feeling my crazed inducing need for him more acutely than before, I let out a growl of frustration finding my hands weren't moving fast enough.
I'd just about ripped open his belt when Edward's hands were suddenly manacles around my wrists.
My head snapped up at him in surprise and frustration, considering mutiny. He wanted me to stop?
No! Panic rippled through me.
"Bella," he whispered through his heavy breaths, gathering my wrists in one hand, pressing the palm of his other against my cheek. "I know. Believe me, I know," he breathed, sounding nearly as tormented as I felt. His sweet breath blew across my face, sending a wave of ease through me. "I want you more than I've ever wanted anyone," he said, his eyes still alight with desire as he stroked my face soothingly. "But we'll get there, okay? I want to savor it, not rush through it. Breathe. It's okay, we'll get there."
My panting slowed slightly, but my heart raced on from his blazing green eyes that were locked in mine. I knew he was right. But the problem was I didn't think I could handle much longer without connecting with him.
Though still feeling wild, I nodded and Edward leaned in to kiss me. This time his kiss was languid and sweet—reminding me to slow the pace. He released my wrists and I abandoned his belt—for now. Instead, I moved my hands back to finish working on the shirt buttons, slow and sensually this time instead of frantically like before—despite the fact that the need for him was still pricking just as painfully as ever. But his words kept me sane. His promise kept me from frantically falling to pieces and shredding the clothes that kept us apart.
We'd get there.
Edward's hands reached around me and lazily dragged down the zipper of my dress. He ran the palm of his hands over my bare back, both of us humming in appreciation of the release that came with the additional skin-to-skin contact. Then he wrapped an arm around my waist and the other under my bottom, pulling me tightly against him. He then stood up and gracefully carried me to the dark room, with as much ease as if I weighed practically nothing, where he gently laid me down on a soft bed.
Piece by piece, each item of our clothing was removed and dropped into crumpled piles on the floor around the bed until we were left with nothing between us.
Edward hesitated just outside of me and I bucked my hips urging him on. Instead, he pulled his mouth away from mine buried his forehead in the crook of my chest and let out a loud, frustrated growl, startling me. Then he leapt away. I let out a sound of protest and prayed that one of his cool, collected personalities didn't pop their head in right at the worst time possible. But he was back before I could gather my thoughts enough to form any words of question. I watched him in the dim light that shone through the curtains from the bright city outside the window, trying to figure out what was going on. Embarrassingly, it wasn't until he had it in place, that I realized he'd gotten and put on a condom.
I found a twinge of misplaced disappointment as I realized this, though it only made sense that we both should want him to use one. We'd not discussed one word of our pasts on that subject, including the very unsexy potential topics that went with it—he didn't know I didn't have anything or even that I was on the pill, and I had no idea about him. But I found myself not caring. I didn't care in that moment what the consequences were—I wanted all of him no matter what the cost. It was a good thing he was more level headed about it because I was sure I'd care later.
But as he nestled himself back between my legs that wrapped back around his hips like they were made to live there, laying skin-to-skin on top of me, my feelings of disappointment all but vanished. We were finally there and my overwhelming need for him would finally be sated. This overwhelming, painful ache I'd endured every moment I couldn't have him, would now be eased.
Edward kissed me passionately. Then, he pulled back to stare into my eyes—making the electric current, that already enveloped us, begin to hum louder—as he pushed himself inside me, stretching and filling me in the most delicious way; like with everything else about Edward, it felt so heavenly I'd not thought it possible before that moment. It was as if he was made specifically for me and so right and pleasurable, it was otherworldly—absolutely perfect.
He moaned my name relief and pleasure while I, almost immediately, came undone beneath him.
In response to my fervor, Edward grabbed my leg, hitching it higher and moved in such a way that it made me gasp and my whole body shook as the thrill of the feeling rushed through me. My sensitive body was still coming down from my climax, making the heavenly feeling all the more intense.
Before I could regain my breath, he did it again.
I gasped at the overpowering sensation.
And again.
Oh God.
And again.
My breath stuttered.
And again.
A moan of ecstasy escaped my lips as he moved within me and clutched me even tighter. He continued, letting out his own moan of delectation in the form of my name as he moved himself within me again and again; until, once more, I came undone around him, even stronger than before—this time, Edward followed closely behind.
When we physically parted, Edward pulled my back against his hard chest and enveloped me tightly in his strong arms.
"Bella," he whispered into my ear. "I'm so sorry." His words burned with intensity as he tenderly stoked my face with the back of his fingers and kissed the top of my shoulder adoringly.
"Sorry for what?"
"I'm no good for you," he admitted sounding tormented. "I tried. I really did—." He cut off and started again. "I don't think I'll be able to stay away from you."
I turned to face him, my eyes locking into his, trying to understand. His eyes in the dark light were torn. I didn't know what he meant about being no good for me but it didn't matter. I didn't care whatever his reasoning. I knew I didn't have the willpower to stay away from him and if he was saying he felt the same about me, it wasn't anything I wanted him to apologize for.
So instead of responding I kissed him passionately with all the emotion I had for him, trying to communicate the feelings I had that I couldn't form out loud, into words, telling him I didn't want him to stay away from me.
It didn't take long before our need overwhelmed us again and we rejoined as ardently as before.
I have a Song Rec for you (paste into your browser and remove the spaces to have a listen). I heard this and thought it fit this Edward and Bella:
"All or Nothing" by Theory of a Deadman.
www. you tube watch? v= kpUj0Y0N7C8
Click [Review] and let me know what you think before clicking to the next chapter. I would greatly appreciate your feedback.
(And of course, thank you MC.) :)