Thank you for your lovely words for the previous chapter. It is heartening to know you are interested in the outtakes.
Goa is all sun, sand and surf, so I had a great time there. :)
This chapter is EPOV of Chapter-7, just in case you want to refer to the original. However, it is not a word-for-word reproduction of the dialogue.
Outtake-6
Our real first time
I almost fail in practicing patience where my attraction to Bella is concerned, and this even before our wedding night arrives.
After the reception is over and the guests have departed, James and Jenks propose that we go to the village and meet the people who wish to congratulate me on gaining the title and getting married. Much as I don't want to leave my bride alone, I understand that this has to be done. Not only I am to work for people's welfare, but I should also gain their goodwill. They see me as replacing Anthony, filling the empty space he had left amongst them. I don't need to copy everything he did, but I must be as approachable to them as he used to be.
However, I excuse myself for a couple of minutes before we leave the manor to accompany Bella to her room and kiss her. I am rather forceful, but I do not realise this until later.
And this is why I enter her room with some trepidation later at night. What kind of impression must I have made upon her?
My body is still eager to claim her, but my heart…it wants to make up for the emptiness Bella has had in her life for the last six years. It wants to see her lit up with happiness.
It is not possible to do this in one day, of course, but I can at least take the first step tonight.
Bella's maid leaves us with a soft good night, and I shut the door and bolt it before turning to my wife.
My wife. I can still not believe that I can call her that. I pinch myself to be sure it is not a dream, one of those countless dreams I have had while I was far away from her.
She still hasn't turned towards me, but our eyes meet in the mirror as I stand behind her. My arms go around her without my making a conscious decision, and my chin rests on her shoulder. I can't quite read her expression, but she seems nervous.
Why would she be nervous? Because of the newness of our relationship, or because of what she thinks is going to happen between us? Sweet heaven, does she think I am going to force her into physical intimacy?
"What?" she whispers.
"Are you scared of me, Isabella? Was I too rough when I kissed you?" I ask with some apprehension, remembering my words to her. Why did I have to be so vocal? "I am sorry if—"
What if she hates me?
Her answer reveals nothing of her like or dislike. "My lord, it is your right to—"
"Edward," I insist, placing a soft kiss on her collar bone and feeling her shiver slightly. Did she like that?
"Huh?"
I ask her to call me by my given name, adding that I have been waiting for years to hear it from her.
"Edward, then."
The words are music to my ears, and the breathy voice in which she utters them gives me some confidence. Perhaps my touch is not distasteful to her.
I turn her around so I can see her face without looking at the mirror. The delectable pink of her cheeks proves that she is not averse to my attentions. It makes me happy; it also makes me want to tease her a little.
"So what were you saying about my right?"
She blushes even harder as she speaks of my marital rights. It is such a becoming sight that I continue to tease her, asking her exactly what comes under my rights according to her. It annoys her, of course, and she scolds me that it is not something a married couple talks about among themselves.
Isn't that strange? After a man and a woman are married, they are supposed to have sex but not talk about it. If not for my years on the continent, I would have been one of those men even now.
I stop teasing Bella, however, aware that she is not comfortable with the topic. Instead, I ask her if it will be better to show her what I mean.
She is agreeable, so I begin with kissing her soft, fragrant neck, enjoying the light floral scent present there. Thence I progress to her shoulder, moving the cloth covering it to one side. Thankfully it is loose and ruffled and slips down easily, baring the pale skin that seems to glow in the candlelight. My lips feast on it eagerly, even as I draw her closer to me, losing myself in the exquisite sensation. When my hand goes to her breast, she moans sweetly.
Encouraged by the sound, I let my mouth follow my hand, tasting the hardened peak through the thin cloth. But then I become aware that she is pulling at my hair, and not in an encouraging manner. Does she want me to stop, now?
She is saying something about the candle. What in the blazes has a candle to do with what we are doing?
"Eh?" I look at her finally.
"You have to blow out the candle."
"Why?" I blink at her, trying to make sense of her words.
She tells me that we can't do anything until then, and that Mary, her maid before Alice, used to leave the room dark so it wouldn't be awkward later on.
Oh. Oh. Of course.
Little does she know that Mary had that standing instruction from Anthony. She probably didn't think anything of it as it was a common enough practice, but it was important for us for a different reason. Had she been married to me in the first place, I would have worshipped her delectable body both with my eyes and my hands, leaving no part hidden.
Well, what is done is done. But she is my wife now, and I won't let her feel awkward of intimacy or ashamed of her body. There will no darkness in our bedroom while we experience the joys of lovemaking, no, nor any silence either. We will not suppress our natural responses just because it is the expected thig to do.
Of course, when I tell her that I want to see her, she is shocked.
And when I ask her if she wants to see me, her reaction is priceless. Her face becomes red with embarrassment, but her eyes travel up and down my body quickly as if trying to guess what they might find behind my garments. She is probably not even aware of the action, so I don't call her upon it. But it gives me hope.
"Isabella?" I draw her attention back to me. "I asked you if you would like to see me without any clothes."
She stutters and stammers that it doesn't seem right. Of course she thinks so. That is what she must have heard from all the women she has known all her life.
I point out to her that it is only social conditioning that makes us think so, but then I see how surprised and pleased she looks that I call her sweetheart. I did not even realise it, but it's how I think of her, so I take a chance and assure her of my love and devotion.
Sadly, she has doubts. And of course, the guilt that must have eaten her from inside all these years rears its ugly head. But before she can berate herself further, I stop her.
If only I could tell her everything right now! But no, it's too soon, and I would like to keep Anthony's secret for as long as possible.
First, we should get to know each other again. We should learn to enjoy the fruits of marital bliss, of true companionship and emotional closeness.
It seems Bella is thinking along the same line, except for one difference. She thinks that I may have loved her past self, but since I don't know her present self, I can't love her.
I beg to differ. I loved her when she was an eighteen year old girl and I love her now that she is a woman and a mother—the mother of my child. Yes, I don't know what her body is like right now, but I want to discover it.
Fortunately, she accepts my caresses and my intentions. I unbutton her gown and let my hand slip inside and find her breast.
"Ahhh," she moans, and promptly covers her mouth.
"Don't do that," I tell her. "If you feel like making a sound, I want to hear it."
She thinks it is shameless. I assure her that it's not, rather it is the acknowledgement of her pleasure.
I can see it is going to take some time to convince her that sexual pleasure is not something to be ashamed of, but I think I look forward to the challenge.
Slowly, one by one, I will remove her inhibitions.
When she leans on me, eyes closed and breath quickened, I can't take it anymore. I carry her to the bed, lay her down and drink in her beauty.
I am painfully hard due to all the kissing and touching we have done, and will probably not last long, but I still want to do something different for her. Different from what she is used to, that is.
Her small, pretty feet beckon me, and I press little kisses on them.
She giggles. "Edward, what are you doing?"
I look up at her and smile. I want her to understand that kissing and touching is pleasurable all over the body and not only in a few selective places.
As I progress to her calves and then the back of her knees, she lets out a small, indistinct sound. I think she likes the sensation.
But when I reach her thighs and use my lips as well as my teeth there, she begins to squirm and whimper. Perhaps it is too much for her, this newness.
Frankly, it's getting too much for me as well, so I hastily move up, determined to heighten her pleasure as much as possible. I kiss her deeply, then move to her neck and finally to her breasts, while my hips move over hers. It takes only a minute or two for me to climax, but even before that I feel Bella shuddering, her hands stilling in my hair as her body arches and then relaxes.
Not bad, for our first time together. Our real first time. I don't count the short, fumbling-in-the-dark encounters when I was impersonating Anthony at his instruction. They were too hasty and impersonal to bring any satisfaction to either of us.
Still, when she confesses that she has never had an orgasm before, it is a blow to my ego. Never? True, I had no idea what I was doing then, but I still imagined that she got her release at least a few times.
And now she is asking me if it is even possible for women to feel as good as men do.
What an idiot I was!
She adds that it had been the same with Anthony, no doubt trying to make me feel better, but it doesn't, for obvious reasons.
The only consolation to me is that I have a lifetime to make it up to her.
A.N. : So that was what Edward was thinking their second first time. Did you notice that his thoughts were different from Bella's at some points? I thought that was more natural, rather than Edward mind-reading everything!
Just one more outtake remaining, of Edward's relationship with the widow in Paris. Hmm, this is going to be difficult.
One of you lovely people remarked that she would love to read the whole Midnight Sun version of this story, but realizes it is not practical. Quite true. Still, thank you for the interest.
'Just Right For Me' is in the list for the last year's top ten stories on TwiFanfictionRecs. If you have voted for it, or are going to vote for it (there are still six days left, and you can vote daily), please accept my sincere thanks.