Thank you for your support! Your groans at leaving the chapter where I did had me laughing. But this chapter is long enough on its own!
Please remember that Bella's opinions are a product of her time and upbringing. They are definitely not mine.
Thank you, LovePotionsBrewer, for being so diligent and constructive. You are the best.
Beachlover6453, your gif. of a girl fanning herself. lol!
Chapter-6
Edward shuts the door and locks it, and my uncertain heart begins to beat as if it's trying to fly out of my chest. In complete contrast, my feet feel as immovable as if they are made of stone. It is impossible to take a step back or forward or in any direction. All I can do is to stare at his reflection in the large, ornate mirror in front of me as he moves closer.
He is wearing light blue pyjamas made of fine linen. The thinness of the fabric emphasises his muscles. He looks beautiful in his day clothes of course, but there just seems to be more of him right now. Or maybe I am too aware of him.
Finally he is standing behind me. His arms encircle my waist as his head dips and rests on my right shoulder. There is a question in his eyes as they meet mine in the silver-framed glass.
"What?" I whisper, the feel of his body so close to me making my breath quicken.
"Are you scared of me, Isabella?" His voice is low, a velvety whisper. "Was I too rough when I kissed you before? I am sorry if—"
He stops abruptly and closes his eyes, his eyebrows scrunching together in a frown.
I am puzzled. Why is he apologising? He is my husband now. He can do anything he wants to!
"My lord, it is your right to—"
"Edward." His lips press into the soft spot where my neck joins my shoulder, making me shiver. His hands hold mine and play with them.
"Huh?" It is all I can come up with. My brain is in a tizzy.
"Call me by my given name, Isabella. My ears have been longing to hear it from your lips for years."
"Edward, then." My voice is slightly shaky. He raises his head from my shoulder and turns me around.
"Thank you." His happiness is so obvious. Then his smile becomes mischievous. "So what were you saying about my right?"
"Um, it is your right to…" I know I am blushing now. I have never had to talk with Anthony on this subject. He knew what was to be done, and did it quietly. "I mean, you have marital rights, so…" Please don't make me say it, I add silently.
He is not making it easy for me. "And exactly what comes under my marital rights?" he presses his lips together as if fighting a laugh.
I am a little annoyed now. "You know what they are! It was you who asked me if I would deny you after we were married, if you remember."
"I do, but my definition of marital rights might be different from yours, so I want to know," he answers as if it is the most obvious thing in the world. Why is he toying with me?
"Do you really expect me to say the words?" I snap impatiently. "You know it is not something a husband and wife talk about!" I am sure my face is burning with mortification.
His face becomes serious in an instant. "I am sorry, of course you—Look, I didn't want to take anything for granted, that is all. Will it be easier if I ask you, show you? You can tell me if you like it or not."
I am not sure what he intends to show me, but it seems all right. I nod.
"For example," his voice is silky in my ear as he bends his head. "Is it all right if I kiss your neck?"
I nod again, and his lips skim across my neck, dropping kisses like tiny flowers in the breeze. My eyes close at the sensation.
"What about your shoulder?" His lips move accordingly, even as his hand pulls the edge of my nightgown's ruffled neck. It stretches easily, and I feel soft heat spread on my bare shoulder. His other hand presses in the small of my back, bringing my lower half closer to his. His thigh muscles feel hard against my softness, and his…
I jerk backwards in shock, but he doesn't let me go. On the contrary, his free hand slips lower and covers my breast. Even through a layer of cloth, his fingers seem to singe my flesh. A moan escapes my mouth without permission.
"Still all right, Bella?" he murmurs against my skin. I feel the spoken words more than hear them. I know I should correct him as to my name, but I can't bring myself to care. It seems I have been dead for years, and he has brought me back to life. He can call me anything as long as he continues to…But there is something we should do first.
'Edward, the candle…"
He doesn't hear me. His lips dip to the swell of my breast, and I feel them suck hard. If I don't remind him now, it will be awkward later.
I tug at his hair. "Edward, listen to me. Blow out the candle before we…"
He raises his head finally, and his eyes are dark, so dark they seem more onyx than their usual jade. They also seem rather dazed.
"Eh?"
"You have to blow out the candle."
The darkness recedes a little. "Why?"
I just stare at him, dumbfounded. What does he mean—why? Because that's the way it is done!
He raises an eyebrow, waiting. I force myself to speak.
"Well, we can't do anything until then. Mary used to put out the candle before she left for the night. She said it was less awkward that way."
He utters something incomprehensible.
"Pardon?"
"I know the majority of couples prefer to do the deed in darkness, but I want to see you."
I am sure my eyes are the size of saucers. He smirks.
"Don't you want to…see me, Isabella?"
"I—I don't—I mean," I sputter while he watches me carefully. Half of me wants to be indignant at the question. A wife is not supposed to see her husband naked, after all. It is against all decorum. The other half is curious to know how he looks under his clothes.
The only time we had been intimate was in semi-darkness, and we were in such a hurry. I can hardly recall anything from that rendezvous long ago. Now that Edward is in front of me in the flesh, what happened before seems more like a dream than reality.
With Anthony, such a thought had never even entered my mind. He worked in his office after dinner, while I read a book or embroidered. I would go to bed and he would join me later. In the beginning there was a lot of fumbling as he didn't seem to know what was to be done, and I had no idea how to help him. But he was always gentle with me; for that I was grateful. After our first time, he had apologised to me for any pain he might have caused me. It was a very brief and very awkward conversation.
"Isabella?"
I blink and come back to the present, to Edward.
"I asked you if you would like to see me without any clothes."
Heat suffuses my body at the thought. "It doesn't seem right." That is all I can say.
"Because people say so? Why does that matter? Tell me what you want, sweetheart?"
I can't help but smile shyly. "Sweetheart?"
"Sweetheart," he confirms, his finger stroking my cheek lightly. "My wife, my love, my everything. I am so grateful to God for giving me a second chance with you. I will do anything for you, Bella, anything." He kisses my lips softly as his arms surround me and I am pulled close to him. I can feel his heart beat against my ear.
The unexpected sweetness brings tears to my eyes. "Why do you love me so much, Edward? I am nothing special. In fact—"
His finger on my lips stops me. "Don't complete that sentence, Bella. It wasn't your fault, not at all. As to why I love you…Is there ever a reason why anybody falls in love? I just did…the first time I saw you. I wanted you for life and beyond, and I wanted to be yours forever."
I wish I could assure him of my love in the same manner, but the truth is, I am not sure yet. I know I am attracted to him. There is no doubt about that. But do I love him?
I want to know him first. He has changed so much while he was away, and that leads to another question. Does he know me as I am now?
"Maybe you loved what I was at eighteen, Edward," I say quietly. "Maybe I have changed over these years. Even physically I am not the same as I was then…you might be disappointed."
"Impossible," he assures me as he steps back and looks at me, his hands on my shoulders. "I love all of you, Bella, exactly as you are. If you have changed inside, I look forward to discovering you again." His voice drops, caressing me as his hand caresses my neck. "As for your physical appearance, I find you even more beautiful than before. I wish to discover your body too, my love. Will you allow me to do that?"
His voice is mesmerising; his eyes lock me in their stare. How can I refuse him?
"Yes," I whisper helplessly.
His lips lift in an uneven smile while his fingers are busy with the buttons on the front of my nightdress. There are only three of them, so it takes him only a few seconds, and then he is peeling back the edges and…exploring.
His large, strong hands move under the fabric this time, setting my skin on fire. One of them cups my breast and squeezes. I moan loudly, and then cover my mouth, aghast at my behaviour.
"Don't do that," says Edward as he looks at me with adoration in his eyes. "If you feel like making a sound, then do it. I want to hear you."
"But that is so…shameless," I manage to say even though my mind wants to give up thinking coherently. My eyes are fluttering, and a delicious heaviness seems to be stealing over me.
"No, it is the acknowledgement of your pleasure, my darling."
He squeezes again, and my eyes close as I almost fall against him, weak with the sensations coursing through my body. Suddenly my feet are no longer touching the floor as I am lifted and carried to my bed. The soft sheets feel cool against my burning skin. I sink into the thick mattress with a sigh.
"Now he will take you," my mind whispers through the haze. "He has kissed you and fondled you. He has given you pleasure. Now it is his turn to take."
I wait for him to lift the hem of my gown to my waist, to sink inside me. Will it feel the same as it used to, or different? It has been so long that I can't remember clearly what it was like before. All my memory can conjure up is a pressure, a fullness and sometimes, pleasure.
I wait. Is he taking off all his clothes?
Ah, there it is, my gown inching upwards, very slowly. But what…Is he kissing my feet?
Shocked, I open my eyes. Edward is indeed bent over my feet, pressing kisses on them.
"Edward," I giggle, "what are you doing?"
He looks up, eyes twinkling, and smiles. Then he moves to my ankles and my calves. When his lips touch the back of my knees, I squeak.
Edward smiles mischievously and moves up. His lips suck on my left thigh, and then move to the right one and I feel his teeth nip it lightly. When he kisses all over it, I begin to squirm with embarrassment. He is so close to my…lady-parts…and all the kissing and fondling is making me feel strange there. Nice, but strange.
Just as I open my mouth to chastise him, he moves up swiftly, throwing a leg over mine and half-covering my torso with his. His weight, his heat, his lips moving over mine…oh, the sensations come rushing in. There is a pressure on my lips, then his tongue enters my mouth and strokes mine…strange, but very nice. My hands twist the soft material of the bedsheet as I feel and feel.
His lips move to my collarbone and then downward, even as his hands roam around on my body. I mewl softly when I feel his mouth latching on to my breast. My nipples are hard and aching and I wish he would pay them some attention. I grip his hair and moan, and he takes the hint and then one peak is in his mouth. He sucks hard even as his hips move over mine, his hardness grinding into my softness, one hand rubbing and squeezing the other breast…the sensations are unbearable, stretching my body taut like a string before it collapses with a pleasure I have never experienced before. Edward moves for a few seconds more, then stills completely. The frantic beat of his heart matches mine as he lowers himself slowly. None of us speaks while we try to bring our breath back to a somewhat normal level.
I realise there was sweat on my forehead when Edward takes off his nightshirt and wipes it gently, then does the same to his face. Suddenly I feel awkward. Sweating, really? How unlike a lady. And we had not even done that. I knew keeping the candle lit was a bad idea. What must he be thinking?
I turn my head reluctantly and steal a glance at him. To my surprise, he looks happy and…proud?
"How are you feeling, sweetheart?"
Huh, he is still calling me sweetheart. Maybe I don't look that terrible then.
"Honestly?"
He kisses my hair. "Always."
"I have never felt like this before. Like I have been shaken up, but then settled back in a better way."
His eyes widen. "You have never felt like this before?"
"Not quite," I answer shyly. His bare chest is distracting me. And my gown is all twisted here and there. I pull the upper half together and make an attempt to straighten the lower half. Edward understands, I suppose, for he pulls a thin quilt from the foot of the bed and covers us.
"Not quite," he repeats. "But something similar to this?"
"Something, yes, a good feeling," I agree, nodding. It should have pacified him, but instead he groaned, looking disappointed. "Edward, what is the matter?"
"I was an idiot then."
In the past? Because he couldn't make me feel like this? But it wasn't his responsibility!
"Why do you think that? A woman can't feel as good as a man does, after all." Or so I had heard in bits and pieces of gossip. He shakes his head and huffs, so I add, "It was only once that we…You shouldn't blame yourself."
Should I mention Anthony? He did ask me to be honest, didn't he?
"Even when Anthony and I were…" I pause, trying to find a word I am brave enough to say aloud. "…together, I didn't feel like this. So you see, it wasn't your fault that I…"
He laughs soundlessly through his nose. "Well, that is not much of a consolation to me. Bella, I am sorry that—"
A huge yawn escapes my mouth, and I cover it quickly with my hands. "Sorry," I mumble.
At least it makes him smile. "No, it's all right. We should go to sleep. I know James will be up early in the morning and expect me to join him for breakfast. I must not be late."
James!
"Um, but you did not…I mean, we did not…What if he asks you about bedding me?"
His eyes narrow. "Then I will tell him to go toast his blooming eyebrows. It is none of his business what we do in the privacy of our bedroom."
Our bedroom. Anthony had never referred to my room as our bedroom.
The expression about James' eyebrows makes me laugh though. Like a reflection in the mirror, Edward's loses the frown, his face breaking out in a smile again.
I never knew I could make someone happy just by laughing.
He blows out the candle and returns to the bed. Meanwhile, I button my nightgown.
"Can I hold you?" he asks in a hesitant tone.
"Of course." That is something I have always liked. I missed it the most when Anthony stopped coming to my room.
He draws me closer, my back to his front, and kisses my cheek, my temple, and then my hair. It makes me feel safe, cherished. I go to sleep surrounded by his warmth.
A.N. Toast his blooming eyebrows: A polite way of telling someone to go fuck himself.
'Huh' has been in use since 1608, in case you think it's too modern for this era. Yes, Bella wouldn't use it in company, but I think it is excusable here.
So, what do you think? :)