"I ignored your aura, but it grabbed me by the hand,
like the moon pulled the tide, and the tide pulled the sand."
- Talib Kweli -
Where We Started
More than once during the next couple of days, I had an urge to pinch myself to find out if all this was just a good dream. Everything was going so...well. I'd suppose that was something I wasn't used to, and I felt as though I was riding a wave of continuous bliss.
One afternoon, Carlisle picked me up from work after my shift. As I got into his car and buckled up my seatbelt, I noticed he was tapping his fingers against the steering wheel in a nervous manner. He flashed me a distracted smile; his eyes were oddly bright.
"You okay?" I asked, chuckling. "You look like you've downed a bottle of caffeine pills."
He pulled in a deep breath and then released it slowly. "Do I?" Instead of explaining his strange restlessness, he put the car into gear and began to drive. I shrugged inwardly, thinking to myself that maybe he'd had a long day.
"Could we stop by my apartment before heading to your house?" I asked. "I need to get some things. I'm running out of clean clothes."
Maybe I'd imagined it, but he almost looked relieved. It was as if my suggestion had given him the excuse to postpone something...unpleasant? Or maybe it wasn't something unpleasant, but he did relax visibly. It was impossible not to notice.
"Of course." He was silent for a short moment. "Does it ever bother you...going back and forth all the time?"
I shrugged. "It takes some planning, I guess. And if I sometimes forget to bring something with me, or if I happen to leave something at your house, it's kind of frustrating. But I can live with it." I gave him a curious glance. "Why? Why do you ask?"
"No reason," he answered quickly, and then he changed the subject, asking me how my day had been. I told him about a young mother who had come to the café with her small son. At some point, the boy had fallen off his chair and hit the underside of his chin on the table, slicing it open. Carlisle grimaced and hissed in sympathy.
"The other waitress was swamped, and she couldn't help them, of course," I told him, "and there was a little too much blood for my liking – of course."
"Of course," he echoed and gave an amused chuckle.
"Luckily, I happen to know the contents of the first-aid kit very well – for obvious reasons – and my job was to hold my breath and give more gauze to the child's mother, as she tried to keep the bleeding under control. While they were waiting for the cab, I tried to keep the boy entertained by showing him some of my scars, including the one I myself have under my chin. It seemed to comfort him to see I was still alive and well, despite having so many accidents. At least he stopped crying and began to ask questions, and I ended up telling him about my numerous little blunders and mishaps."
Carlisle laughed softly. "It takes some skill to distract a crying child who's in pain. I salute you. You'd make a great nurse."
I rolled my eyes at him. "Yeah, sure. If a nurse is supposed to drop unconscious at the sight of blood, I'd make a fine one."
He laughed again. "You know, some people can get over hemophobia. I remember back in med school, there was always someone who kept passing out every now and then. But they got over it eventually – exposure is a very efficient way to conquer fears." He frowned, then, probably realizing that, for a very long time, he hadn't followed that advice himself. But now, he was, in a way. In many ways. He was taking little steps forward, instead of standing completely still.
"The human mind is stronger than it seems. More powerful than many expect or believe," I mused.
He smiled softly and reached over the console to hold my hand briefly. "And sometimes...sometimes it takes the mind of another, a sweet, generous mind, to realize the strength of your own."
His words made me blush, and I was glad we arrived at my apartment, then. As we went inside, I tried to distract myself from his bottomless blue eyes, from the deep appreciation in them. Trying to ignore the way he was watching me, but at the same time, feeling flattered that he was, I threw some clothes into my bag and grabbed a stack of books I'd borrowed from his library a few days ago. Carlisle insisted on carrying my bag to the car, and as we drove to his house, I thought I saw that earlier, strange restlessness return to his features. As soon as I noticed it, though, it seemed to disappear.
We made dinner together; this was a ritual we broke only if I had to work a later shift. There was something familiar and comforting about bustling away in the same kitchen, about bumping into each other every now and then, sometimes by accident, sometimes on purpose. There had been more than one occasion, when Carlisle had reached around me to grab a spoon or a knife, for instance, and instead of taking whatever kitchen utensil he had needed, he had suddenly pressed his lips to the side of my neck and wrapped his arms around me from behind. That had usually made me turn around and claim his lips with my own, and before I'd even realized it, he had lifted me onto the kitchen counter, and his hands had begun to work on my clothes. One time, we'd burned our dinner and ruined an expensive saucepan like that – getting a little distracted in the middle of cooking was too easy. Too tempting.
Tonight, though, we behaved ourselves. I was suddenly crazy hungry, and the spicy tomato basil soup we'd made tasted like heaven. Usually, I didn't like spicy, salty foods much, and that was why it confused me a bit that I ended up enjoying it so much.
Carlisle, on the other hand, didn't seem to have much of an appetite. He was uncommonly quiet as he nibbled at his food, and he kept staring at his plate, almost like he was trying to avoid eye contact with me.
"Too much salt?" I asked and nodded toward his soup. "Too much basil? Too much...something?"
He smiled and shook his head. "No. I had a big lunch, I guess."
For some reason, I had a feeling he wasn't being completely honest. I wanted to ask him what was bothering him, but I knew from experience that the best way to get him talking was to give him some space. Peppering him with questions never helped.
There was something like relief in his eyes, when I finally put away my spoon and brought a napkin to my mouth.
"Bella..." He clearly hesitated. "Would you take a walk with me?"
His question surprised me. I glanced at the window; it would be dark in half an hour, but at least it wasn't raining outside.
"Okay. Of course." I began to gather our plates and glasses to take them to the sink, but he placed a hand over mine.
"Leave them," he said softly and gave me a brief smile. It was almost like he was suddenly impatient or anxious about something.
I tried not to worry, as we put on our coats and stepped outside into the November chill, and I tried not to worry, as Carlisle remained quiet for several long minutes as we walked, our pace slow and unhurried. He kept his eyes constantly on the sidewalk, and as his responses to my attempts to start a conversation were eventually limited to monosyllables, that was when I decided I'd had enough.
"What is wrong?" I huffed, throwing my hands in the air in frustration. "I can't take this anymore!"
My words made him jump, and he looked a little baffled, like he'd become aware of his surroundings only now.
"What do you mean?" he asked with forced casualness.
"What do I mean? I mean this," I gestured between us. "You've been behaving strangely all afternoon, you didn't eat, and you look like a deer caught in the headlights whenever you look at me. What's the matter? What's bothering you?"
"You noticed?" he asked quietly.
"Of course I noticed! How could I not? I'm not blind."
He opened his mouth to say something, but he hesitated. When his eyes avoided mine again, I stopped, forcing him to stop as well.
"Carlisle, you're scaring me. Just...just tell me what's wrong. Please."
Something about my voice seemed to alert him. He took my hand, holding it tightly, and this time, he didn't look away as my eyes searched his.
"Nothing is wrong," he assured. "I promise you, Bella."
"Then what's going on with you?"
He let out a quiet sigh, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and beginning to walk again. I had no choice but to follow. He pulled me close against his side, matching his pace to mine. I waited patiently on the outside, but I was fidgeting inwardly in frustration.
After a couple of moments, Carlisle stopped and turned to face me. He removed his arm from my shoulders and took my hand again, lacing his fingers with mine. A car drove by, and he waited until it had passed.
"Do you remember...do you realize where we are?" he asked hesitantly, his voice quiet.
I looked around me, but I didn't answer. His question confused me – of course I knew where we were. It wasn't the first time we'd gone for a walk here. The cemetery was just a few dozen yards away from where we were standing, and I wondered if that had something to do with his strange question.
A small smile appeared on Carlisle's lips as he saw my confusion, but his blue eyes were serious. Earnest. He began to speak again, not waiting for my answer.
"This is where I ran after you all those weeks ago. This is where I caught up with you. This is where I kissed you for the very first time."
I closed my eyes in realization, giving a soft laugh. "Right. Of course, I remember."
He brought up his free hand and stroked his knuckles over my jawline. "You were upset," he murmured softly. "You were hurt that I hadn't called you, and when you saw me come from the cemetery, you turned around and walked the other way, hoping I hadn't seen you. You thought I just wanted to clear my conscience, to apologize that I hadn't called you, and you were in such a hurry to get away from me."
"That's not exactly true. I didn't want to get away from you – I felt like walking away was agonizing, and it was strange, because I barely even knew you back then. I wanted to get away from you, because I didn't want to cry in front of you. Because I didn't want you to see how unreasonably much it hurt me that you hadn't called."
His hand cupped my cheek. "But I did see it," he murmured. "And I was afraid to consider what it meant. But at the same time, I was in seventh heaven, as I realized you really liked me that much. That you were disappointed enough to cry over me." He gave a soft, confused laugh and shook his head, as if the mere notion was somehow hard to comprehend. "And that's when I realized...I couldn't let you walk away. That I had to...have you. No matter how foolish it was, no matter how hard my heart tried to warn me not to."
I gave him a sad smile. "That's the thing about broken hearts, I suppose; they can't see clearly. They try to preserve and protect the little that's left and unbroken."
He nodded. "But you were able to see clearly when I couldn't. Maybe...your heart was always whole enough for the both of us. And the way it stole its way into my mine..." he trailed off and shook his head again. "It happened so stealthily. I suddenly found it hard to imagine what my life would be like if you were no longer in it. The thought...it frightened me. It frightens me still, Bella. More than you can imagine."
I squeezed his hand, tightening my fingers around his. "But you faced that fear. Maybe you still are, but the most important thing is, you're facing it instead of running away from it."
He smiled. "You know, I've lately found that, things I've thought to be terrifying, things that have brought me pain in the past...I think I've finally learned to remember that, if there's pain, there's also beauty. Happiness. I've learned that, even though one of them may sometimes overshadow the other, it doesn't have to last forever. The undeniable truth may be that everything in life has a flip side, and my worst mistake has been that I've always focused on that darker side. And I've let it rule my decisions and thoughts for a very long time."
He paused, drawing in a shallow breath. "Bella, there are still...lines...that I can probably never cross. There are still fears that'll always be more than mere fears to me. There are still things I can't offer you, things you'll lose, things you'd deserve, things some other man would be able to give you–"
I shook my head, raising a finger to his lips and silencing him. "You're the only man I could ever want. I've never been this sure about anything else before. So, stop thinking about the things you can't give me. All I want is you. That's all I'm asking. And that's all I'll ever need."
He let go of my hand and cradled my face with his palms. "Are you sure?" he asked, his blue eyes burning with some strange intensity.
"Yes," I answered.
"Absolutely sure?"
I nodded, giving a confused laugh; the look of pure astonishment on his face was humbling to witness. And that smile on his lips – I'd never seen him smile like that. He let out a shaky breath and gave a soft, amazed laugh, and then he took both of my hands in his and kissed my knuckles.
"Bella, do you remember when I once told you that I'm a traditional, old-fashioned man?" he suddenly asked, holding my gaze.
"Yeah," I answered slowly and narrowed my eyes.
"And I also told you that I think stability and getting to share your life with someone are important, meaningful things?"
"Yeah," I said again, nodding slowly. "Where are you going with this, Carlisle? Why did you bring me here?"
He smiled softly. "Because of what I told you. Because this is where I kissed you. Because this is where I held you in my arms for the first time. Because this is where we started. I brought you here, because I'm a sentimental, foolish man, and because I hope that, when we return here years later, you won't just remember our first kiss, but you'll also remember this."
All I could do was just stare at him, as he lowered himself on one knee and took my left hand in both of his.
"Bella," he began, a small, nervous smile playing on his lips, "I know we haven't known each other for long. All I know is you talk in your sleep, that you read at least twenty books in a week, and that seeing blood makes you queasy. All I know is, if you feel hurt by me, you take off that necklace I gave you, and you lock it away in your bedroom drawer, and after that, you take the key and you put it in the freezer, and I find that very endearing. All I know is it annoys you if I leave the shampoo bottle uncapped, and all I know is you sometimes walk into doors – even if they're not see-through, and by all accounts, you should be able to see them – and all I know is the smell of lavender puts you to sleep. All I know is I love you, and I'll keep on loving you, regardless of how much it sometimes scares me. And all I know is I want nothing more than to make you my wife someday. Bella, will you marry me?"
I tried to remember how to breathe, how to blink. How to form coherent thoughts, not to mention words. I just kept staring at him, and apparently, that continued for a very long time, because something like worry or uncertainty passed in Carlisle's eyes. I suddenly had high respect for his nerves – those moments must have felt like forever.
And here I was, standing completely dumbfounded, torturing him with my silence and forcing him to stay on one knee before me. The sidewalk had to be wet and dirty, but it was as if he didn't even notice. All he saw was...me.
And I understood. Because all I saw was him, and just him. I was barely aware of the smile making its way to my lips, barely aware of the way my fingers wrapped around his. But I was fully aware of the quiet answer leaving my mouth, fully aware of the way my heart stuttered, as I saw Carlisle's reaction.
"Yes," I whispered, laughing softly. "Yes, I'll marry you."
I couldn't read the look in his eyes. It was something more than softness, something deeper than wonderment. Something calmer than peace itself. I realized I'd never seen him look like that, like the storm in his blue eyes had finally ceased and left behind an even, unbroken surface.
He stood up slowly, and then he drew me to him, wrapping his arms around me and nearly crushing me against his chest. As his lips found mine, I realized this kiss was different from all the others we'd shared. It was...free. Fearless. It hid nothing.
Just like we no longer hid from each other.
When we finally broke away from each other, we were both out of breath. Carlisle pressed a soft kiss on my cheek, and then he did something I hadn't expected.
He began to laugh quietly.
I drew back, perplexed. He shook his head, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow, and that was when I began to laugh, too.
"Were you that nervous about my answer?" I asked, incredulous. I pulled out a tissue from my pocket and handed it to him. He took it, dragging it across his forehead, and another soft laugh left his lips. His eyes danced.
"Of course I was. I take it you've never proposed to anyone?"
"Well, I guess it's not something one does every day," I granted. I took the tissue from him and stepped closer, wrapping my arms behind his neck. "But, you know, since you were so uncertain about my answer, it can only mean I've failed in my mission. I obviously haven't managed to show you properly how fond I am of you. That error must be corrected as soon as possible, don't you think?"
He smiled, catching my lips in a brief kiss. "That sounds very tempting. But first...would you like to see the ring?"
"You got me a ring?"
He laughed softly. "I told you. I'm a very traditional, old-fashioned man. I was supposed to show it to you as I got down on one knee, but...I had so many things to say to you, and I got sidetracked." He pulled away slightly, taking a small velvet box from his pocket and opening the lid.
Inside, there was a simple silver ring with a small sapphire; it matched the necklace he had given me on my birthday.
"Wow." The word came out as a quiet breath. I didn't know what to say. The ring...it was beautiful. I wasn't even wearing it yet, and already, I was scared of breaking it or something.
"Do you like it?" Carlisle asked, his voice soft.
"Of course. I'm already kind of worried about breaking it – or losing it. What if I drop it in someone's coffee cup at the café?"
He chuckled. "Then you'll have to ask for a bigger tip," he jested, pulling the ring out of the box and taking my hand. After sliding the ring onto my finger, he pulled me to his chest again, dropping a sweet kiss on my lips.
"You've made me a very happy man just now, Bella. Thank you...for everything. Thank you for...for owning such a ridiculously old truck."
I frowned confusedly. "Um, okay?"
He gave a soft laugh. "If you hadn't had problems with starting it all those months ago, we never would've met. So…thank you. Thank you for being you. For being the moon to my tide. Thank you for...not giving up on me."
"Maybe I never gave up on you, but what's more important is, you never gave up on yourself. You just needed to realize it." I wound my fingers into his hair, pulling him closer for a swift kiss. I chuckled against his lips, as a sudden thought came to me.
"What?" he asked, confused about my sudden amusement.
I shook my head, giving a soft laugh. "I just realized…now, I really, really have to tell Charlie about what's going on. I'm engaged, for crying out loud! And he doesn't even know I've been seeing someone!"
Carlisle bit his lip, torn between amused and worried. "He's not going to like me, is he? I must say, I'd understand. He can't be much older than I am."
"He's a few years older than you are. But in the end, it doesn't matter what he thinks."
"Of course, it matters," he disagreed. "He's your father."
"Well, of course it'd be important to me that he could be happy for me. But I know that might not happen right away – I'm not naive. He'll need some time to come to terms with the idea that I'm going to spend my life with someone who's a little older than me. But he also has to accept the fact that I'm a grown-up, and I'm going to make my own choices."
He nodded, letting out a quiet sigh. "That's very wise of you. I'd just hate it if my relationship with you came between you and your father. That wouldn't be...right."
"Nothing's going to come between anything. Let's just take it one day at a time. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."
He nodded again, stroking my cheek with his hand gently. "I agree. We don't have to rush. That goes for getting married as well. It doesn't have to happen tomorrow – I don't want you to feel like I'm pressuring you or rushing you into anything."
"I know that. And besides, we haven't even been living together yet. Not officially, anyway. Think about all those terrible things you can still discover about me. Maybe I'm horribly messy, and I leave my socks everywhere. Or maybe you'll find out I eat pizza with whipped cream, and you'll find that so gross that you can't live with it. And then you'll have to get rid of me and call the whole thing off. Don't get too comfortable – there are still many, many interesting obstacles ahead of us."
He chuckled, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. We turned around and began to head back to his house.
"Pizza with whipped cream does sound...revolting," he admitted, a glimmer in his eyes. "But you know, Bella, I think I could take it. You're worth abominable food combinations."
That was a very strange compliment, but even so, it flattered me.
I couldn't stop admiring the ring, as we returned to his house moments later. It surprised me a bit to realize how much I adored it already; fancy jewelry had never been my thing. But in the end, I'd suppose it wasn't the ring I was so fond of – it was what it represented. The same went for the necklace Carlisle had given me. It had been a wordless, secret love confession, but neither of us had been completely aware of it at the time.
Carlisle was greatly amused, when the waitress in me took over as we stopped in the kitchen, and he came to help me as I began to clean up the table and rinse the dishes.
"Are you hungry?" I asked him. "Would you like to have something? You barely touched your dinner earlier."
He smiled. "I was nervous," he admitted, drying his hands with a towel and tossing it on the counter. He stepped closer to me, taking my waist and pulling me against him. "And yes. Maybe I am a bit hungry."
I cocked an eyebrow at him. "For...food?"
He leaned in closer, nuzzling the tip of my nose with his. "No, my sweet, innocent Bella. Not for food."
I smiled as he pressed his lips to my jaw, wrapping his arms around me. "Oh, I see," I murmured, feigning realization. "You only have one thing on your mind, don't you? Are you incapable of thinking about anything else?"
"Blame yourself," he murmured, trailing slow, hot kisses along my neck. "It's not my fault my fiancée is so sinfully attractive. I mean, what am I supposed to do about it? Just stand and stare?"
I chuckled, but it turned into a moan as he dragged his teeth along my neck. "Maybe you're right," I managed to say. "Standing still and doing nothing would be such a waste."
His response was to sweep me up into his arms – it happened so quickly and unexpectedly I cried out in surprise. He only chuckled, adjusting me in his arms before carrying me out of the kitchen. I wrapped my arm behind his neck, and a moment later, we were at the door of his bedroom.
And that was when he stopped and looked down at me, locking his gaze with mine. There was something meaningful about that look; something serious.
I smiled, understanding where his mind was. "Isn't it a bit too early to think about things such as carrying me over the threshold?"
He chuckled. "Maybe I'm getting ahead of myself, but I can't help it." He pressed his lips briefly to mine before stepping into his bedroom, and his mouth found my neck once more as he placed me on the bed, poising himself above me. "I can't help it," he murmured again. "I just...I want you to be mine, Bella. I want to share everything with you. And speaking of thresholds...move in with me?" His lips left the skin on my neck, and he pulled back to gaze at me, cupping my face with his hand. "Come live here with me."
I quirked my eyebrows in surprise. "Really?"
He nodded. "I love having you here," he said quietly. "But I don't want to rush you, of course. I mean," he licked his lips nervously, "it doesn't have to happen right away. And you can still keep your apartment, if you want. That way, you'll have a place to go if you grow tired of me." A small smile quirked his lips, and I chuckled. "You don't have to answer right away. Think about it as long as you need."
I laughed softly. "Carlisle, tonight, you asked me to marry you, and I said yes. Do you honestly think I'm going to say no, when you ask me to move in? If I did, that'd make me a very complicated, erratic person, wouldn't it?" I smiled. There was something like relief in his eyes. "I'd love to live here someday, of course. We're spending all our time together, anyway, and frankly, I think most of my clothes are already here instead of my own apartment." That made him chuckle, and the gentle look in his eyes did funny things to my insides.
"But?" he asked carefully, knowing there was something more I wanted to say.
"I wasn't going to say 'but.' I was going to say 'however.'"
"It's the same thing."
I chuckled. "Okay. Maybe it is. However," I said, and suddenly, I was having trouble putting my thoughts into words. "Everything...everything has changed so much lately. I've learned so many things about you during these past couple of weeks." I twined my fingers into his soft, golden hair; the touch made him shiver.
"I never expected us to get this far. I hoped, of course, but I never believed my hopes and desires were realistic. As soon as I met you, I knew I liked you way too much. I prepared myself for the possibility of having to give you up someday. And when I told Rosalie about you and me, that we were keeping things casual, she warned me I wasn't good at casual.
"She was right. I was in love with you from the start, but I didn't want to admit it. And now...now that I have, now that I know you love me, too...and now that I know about the things that have been holding you back for several long years..."
Carlisle nodded slowly, suddenly understanding what I was trying to say. "Are you worried that…because I've been holding back and keeping my distance from people for so long…because I've been used to living my life a certain way, I'll later come to regret that I moved so fast with you?"
I played with the hair on his neck. "I don't question or doubt your feelings for me. It's not that," I assured him. "I just don't want you to feel like we have to hurry. I don't want you to feel like...like you owe me something. Like you have to prove your devotion to me."
He took my other hand in his own and brought it to his lips. "I understand what you're saying. I know I've been slamming on the brakes for a long time, and now that I'm no longer doing that, it must seem very confusing to you. And I know that, especially at the beginning, I seemed to have had one foot out the door, so to speak. Maybe I did. That's how I've...survived...these past years.
"So, when I met you, I kept telling myself nothing was different, that you were just another person who happened to come into my life, just another person who'd have to leave eventually. But very soon, I realized I didn't want you to leave. I know I kept repeating that I wasn't cut out for anything long-term. I suppose it was an attempt to keep you at arm's length, an attempt to convince myself this is how things should to be. But the thought of hurting you...and the thought of leaving you someday..." He shook his head, frowning. "I eventually realized...I can't do that. Leave you."
I stroked my fingers against his scalp, waiting in silence as he gathered his thoughts. He stared at the bedspread for a moment before meeting my eyes.
"I didn't ask you to marry me, or move in with me, because I feel like I have to...prove something to you, or to myself. And I didn't ask those things, because I feel like I might owe it to you after all those comments I made about me not being able to make a commitment. I'm not trying to make up for anything here.
"The reason why I asked you those things...I'm just suddenly so sure. I feel so...so certain. About you. About us. I haven't felt like this for a long time, Bella. Like there'll be peace, even for me. And if I've learned anything about life, it's that it's too short for waiting. Anything could happen any moment, after all – I know that all too well. That's why I feel like I could never regret something like moving too fast with you. The only thing I might end up regretting is if I wasted time by waiting."
I smiled. "You know, I think we feel the same way about that. I hate wasting time, too. So, let's not. Let's make a deal. No more wasting time."
He returned my smile. "Alright. Deal."
"Deal," I nodded and grinned, tugging at his hair gently.
He caught my lips in a slow, passionate kiss and ran a hand down my body, hooking his elbow under my knee. He pulled it up almost demandingly, hitching it around his other hip.
I moaned against his mouth as my body became flush with his. Sweet, tormenting heat began to pool in my belly, and I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him even closer. It made him groan quietly, and after pressing one more searing kiss on my lips, he withdrew and set to work on my clothes.
"You know," I managed to pant out as he sat back on his calves, pulling me into a sitting position, so he could pull my sweater up and over my head, "I hope you've thought this through. If I'm really going to move in someday, it means I'll have your library at my disposal around the clock."
"Yes?" he asked. There was impatience in his movements as he discarded my sweater. His clever fingers began to undo the clasp of my bra. "What's your point?"
"My point is…" A quiet moan left my lips as he pulled the bra from my chest, "My point is...are you sure about the whole thing? Because it'd mean I no longer have to borrow your books. It'd mean I might hole myself up in the library for hours, entertaining myself by reading and doing nothing else. I might not come out, not even at night."
"Oh, I see it now. You're with me because I have a good library. Isn't that right?"
And then his mouth was on my bare breast, and my breath hitched as he sucked a nipple into his mouth, laving it with his tongue. My skin rose with goosebumps; for some reason, the simple caress of his lips and tongue felt more heavenly than ever before. It was as if there was some new sensitivity and tenderness to my skin.
"Maybe." The word came out as a breathless sigh. "What would you say to that? That I only like you because of your impressive...book collection?"
He circled my nipple with his tongue, before biting it gently, and then he gave my other breast the same, tender attention. By the time he was done, I was gasping for breath.
"I'd ask," he began, pushing me down against the bed and hovering over me, "whether any of my books can do this." He deftly undid the button and zipper of my jeans, pulling them down and off almost roughly. As he stroked me over my underwear, I whimpered and pushed myself against him, but as soon as I did, his touch withdrew.
"How is it, Bella?" he asked me, his voice low and demanding. Hearing the sound of my name in that tone...it made my head spin. "Answer the question."
I tried to get enough oxygen into my lungs to speak. Tried to get enough oxygen into my brain to form thoughts. "Uh...what was the question?"
He chuckled. "I wanted to know if my books can give you the same pleasure as I can give you. How is it?"
"Um...no?"
Apparently, the word came out as a question. And apparently, he didn't like that. A low growl rumbled from his chest, and he sat back again to tug my panties off. It was like he couldn't get rid of my clothes fast enough. I kind of knew the feeling; as he crawled over me again, I had to remind myself there was something I needed to do, that he was still fully dressed, and that was a big no-no for me. As his lips found mine again, my fingers began to fumble for the buttons of his shirt, but undressing him proved to be hard. My focus scattered as he gently kneed my legs apart and reached down, stroking the tender, swollen skin he'd just exposed.
The touch was light, meant to tease, and it was my turn to growl in frustration. That only seemed to amuse him. He pulled away from my lips with a low chuckle, looking at me intensely and suddenly pressing a finger inside me. My mind blanked again, and my eyes slipped closed as his thumb found the bundle of nerves above my entrance. My back began to arch off the bed, but Carlisle held me still, pinning me down with his body.
His skillful fingers, his tormenting touch, his body pressing against my own...the whole man should have been made illegal. He had me on the edge faster than ever before. The wonderful knot in my stomach wound tighter and tighter, and I was quickly hurtling towards climax, and just as I was about to topple over the edge, he pulled away. I groaned quietly, releasing my lip from between my teeth, only now realizing how hard I was biting into it.
"Well?" Carlisle asked again, his voice soft.
"Screw the library," I managed to pant out. "I like you more."
He chuckled contentedly, grinning down at me. I gave him a moment and let him bask in his smugness a few seconds, but I grew impatient very soon. I gave his shoulders a nudge, and as he drew away from my body and sat back, I resumed my earlier task of undressing him. His shirt resisted a bit, and I actually tore a button off in my haste. I idly thought to myself that I could have made this whole thing more elegant and seductive, but all my brain could comprehend at that moment was that he had too many clothes on, and this had to change as soon as possible. Elegance was overrated, anyway.
When he was finally blissfully naked, I slowed down. Pressing a hand against his chest, I pushed him down to the bed and crawled over him. My mouth sought his, touching long enough to catch the quiet moan leaving his lips, and then I kissed my way down his body. I paid extra attention to the tense muscles of his stomach, avoiding the area that ached for my touch the most, knowing it would drive him crazy. His whole body was thrumming with tension – I could literally feel it.
I shifted, maneuvering myself so I was next to him. I sat down on my calves, running a hand over his other hipbone, grinning as I saw that his eyes were closed, and his hands were gripping the bed covers. As I traced the tips of my fingers along his thigh, he shivered, and his hips jerked.
"Bella," he groaned, his voice breathless. "Bella...please..."
I was tempted to torture him for a moment more, but I decided to show him mercy; maybe next time, I would be patient enough to tease him a while longer. And besides, I'd told him I didn't like wasting time, and why would I contradict myself?
I leaned down and pressed a soft kiss on his hipbone, feeling him tremble again, and then I shifted, trailing a hand up his thigh, before gently stroking his weeping arousal. As soon as my hand surrounded him, he breathed out, long and loud, as if he'd been holding in his breath all this time. His eyes were squeezed shut, his mouth was cracked open, and as I leaned over him, giving the tip of his hardness a soft lick, he grunted, and his hips gave a small, uncontrollable buck.
His hand was suddenly in my hair, and I could tell he was struggling not to make a fist and hurt me. I hummed softly as I took him into my mouth, my hands taking care of what my lips and tongue couldn't reach. I took my time, alternating between soft licks and hard strokes, and it wasn't long before I could feel a subtle change in the rigid tension of his body.
"My God, Bella...that feels incredible...I can't–" A low grunt cut off his sentence, and a visible shudder went through him. His iron control suddenly snapped, and his fingers fisted in my hair, not hard enough to cause pain, but hard enough to make me understand he was close. "Bella... Bella, stop. Bella, stop, stop, stop...Bella, stop!"
It seemed to take every ounce of his control to untangle his fingers from my hair, and he grabbed my arm instead, gently but firmly pulling me away from him. I released him reluctantly, giving him a sly smile as he drew me against his chest and wrapped his arms around me. Not that he saw my expression; his eyes were squeezed closed, and he was taking slow breaths through his mouth, an expression of intense focus on his face.
Biting my lip to keep from chuckling, I reached down and wrapped my hand around his hardness, giving it a gentle stroke. It throbbed and pulsed in my hand, and Carlisle growled, actually growled. Quickly, he grabbed my misbehaving hand and held it to his chest, and this time, he didn't let go. He spent several endless moments just breathing, his inhales and exhales forcibly slow.
After a while, his eyes fluttered open, and he gave me a scolding glance, letting go of my hand.
I batted my eyelashes at him in feigned innocence and confusion. "What's the matter? Didn't you like what I was doing?"
He let out a breathless chuckle. "I liked it too much – and I think you know that very well."
"Oh. What's the problem, then?" I asked, still feigning confusion. I reached down again, but just as my hand was about to reach its destination, he caught my wrist.
"The problem is, sweetheart," Carlisle answered in a low tone, his blue eyes dark, "it seems like you want me to disgrace myself by losing control like a teenage boy. Is that what you want?"
"What if it is?" I bit my lip and peeked at him through my eyelashes. That made him groan quietly. "What if...I want to see you lose control?"
It seemed impossible, but his eyes darkened even more. He leaned his face closer to mine, touching the tip of my nose with his. "Is that what you really want, sweetheart?"
His dangerously soft tone made me shiver. Before I could utter a word, he kissed me, hard and long, and when he pulled away from my mouth, he gave me no time to recover. He flipped me over onto my stomach in one deft move and began to place hot kisses along my spine. I shivered, but he gave me no time to enjoy the touch of his lips. Soon, his mouth left my skin, and I tried to twist around to see his face, but again, he didn't give me the chance; I was too slow, and he was one step ahead of me.
His hands grasped my hips, and then he pulled me back against him. I moaned as I felt his arousal pressing against the back of my thigh, and I shifted, trying to get him to move, to do something, to give me the connection I craved. He wrapped his arm around me and slipped his hand between my thighs, and a desperate moan left my lips as he slipped a finger between my folds and began to stroke my sensitive flesh. My hips bucked involuntarily. I almost began to cry when I felt him shift; I expected him to keep teasing me. But then, he nudged my legs apart, his free hand twining into my hair, and in one hard thrust, he buried himself inside me from behind.
I cried out, both in pleasure and surprise. Carlisle was always so gentle, so tender, and this new, bold side of him caused an excited thrill to run through me. He untangled his hand from my hair and took hold of my waist instead, his other hand stroking the tender nub at the apex of my thighs. The primal position alone made my head reel with pleasure, but then...then he began to move.
Each stroke of his hips was slow but hard, steady, and deliberate. I didn't even realize I was biting into a pillow, until my jaw began to hurt. Incoherent moans and cries were pouring from my lips, and my hands searched for purchase, grasping desperately at the bedcovers, before reaching up and grabbing the headboard.
"Carlisle...oh, my God..." Forming words, at least sensible ones, was practically impossible. Every push of his hips, every touch of his fingers, sent white-hot pleasure through me. My thighs were trembling, and I squeezed the headboard so hard, there might have been pain, but if there was, I didn't notice. I was only aware of the blinding flashes of bliss coursing through me, as he slammed into me from behind, hard and fast, only aware of the sound of his heavy breathing and the soft grunts rising up from his throat.
"Do you like this, Bella?" he asked breathily. "Do you like to be taken this way? Or do you want me to stop?"
"No, please, don't stop...don't ever stop..."
It was too good, too much, and it didn't take long until the tight coil in my stomach sprung free. I tumbled over the edge, waves of release washing over me like an inrushing tide, untamed, uncontrollable, unstoppable. My peak brought on his own; his fingers were suddenly digging into my skin, his breathing unsteady, and I felt him pulse and throb inside me. Then, he stilled and let out an unintelligible moan that sounded something like my name.
I was half-moaning, half-sobbing, as we fell on the bed. I didn't realize there were tears running down my cheeks, until Carlisle suddenly untangled his body from mine and turned me onto my back. His eyes were alarmed.
I smiled at him through my tears and gave a soft chuckle. "I'm fine," I told him breathlessly. "My whole body is on overdrive, that's all – thanks to you. You've never seen anyone crying tears of ecstasy before?"
He gave a confused laugh, but he still looked worried. He reached out to smooth a lock of hair back from my face. "I didn't hurt you?"
"Of course not," I assured.
He leaned down to kiss the tears away. "Everything's alright?"
"Yes, Carlisle. Everything's alright." I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer. A moment before his lips claimed mine, I whispered, "Everything's perfect. Everything's fine. Nothing is going to change that. Not ever."
And in that moment, I had every reason to believe in those words.