We spent almost every day together, finding ways to sneak into the rectory and make love. Edward showed me different positions and ways he could fit completely inside of me. He took me high into the heavens as I tumbled repeatedly into orgasms.
If I had ever doubted it before, I knew at that point that he was my soul mate. Besides the way he read and played my body like an expert pianist sight-reading a masterpiece, Edward was slowly opening my eyes to the world beyond. He managed to embrace the Bible and sex with the same open arms.
No one was any wiser at the church. Edward continued to preach spotless messages. He even did a series on Song of Songs, which had me blushing and shifting in the pew as he gazed down at me from the pulpit.
Jacob Black and I were married on March 14, exactly eight months after Edward and I first consummated our spiritual marriage. Edward had come to me in my bridal room before the ceremony. He prayed with me briefly, before bending me over the room's vanity and taking me swiftly from behind; my white dress was bunched around my waist and the top of it was pulled down so my breasts spilled over. When he shuddered in release, I felt a hot slickness fill my insides. He hadn't even bothered to remove his tux pants or boxers; the condom he kept in his wallet was all but forgotten.
Walking down the aisle, I looked like a princess. Every time Jake glanced at me, I tried to push down the guilt inside and focus on keeping the smile plastered to my face as Edward had instructed. Often, I would find my attention being drawn to Edward. Several times I had turned my eyes in his direction only to find him staring lovingly at my features. I hoped no one else noticed the way he looked at me; surely, they would realize how intimate we were with each other.
Our wedding night was...sweet. Jake was very soft and tender, afraid of hurting me. Of course, he thought I was still a virgin. If only he knew... Edward insisted that I give myself to Jacob, as was my wifely duty. But he also told me that he would be waiting for me after the honeymoon, ready to show me how much he loved me. While I knew it was improper for me to do so, I made sure to remind Jake to wear protection during the honeymoon. I told him I wanted more time alone with him before a baby came into the picture; after the first night, he agreed.
Jake took me to Disney World for our honeymoon. It was sweet, as well. I felt like I was playing the part of the proper Christian woman; it had been a while. Our nights were filled with "love making"—at least that's what Jake called it. For me, it was only sex; Edward held my love.
I believe I shocked Jake into premature ejaculation when I got tired of him being on top of me, pushed him onto his back, and sunk onto his impressive cock. He came moments later, apologizing profusely for not lasting longer. I just patted him on his head, rolled off the bed, and took a long, hot shower. I couldn't wait to get back to my Edward.
While we were on our honeymoon, Jake's three younger brothers moved my things into the house that Jake had owned for the past two years. It would be all ready for us when we got...home.
When we got back to town from the honeymoon and I went to the church for my first day back, Edward took me up to the rectory and made me forget all about my husband. After he discarded my clothing, his tongue lapped and suckled between my thighs, driving me into the throes of an orgasm only Edward could give to me.
"Yes! Fuck my pussy! Harder!" I screamed when he entered me from behind. My voice carried through the church, echoing off the vaulted ceiling and bouncing back to our ears in the rectory above. He pinched and rolled my nipples as he pushed his hard cock deeper into me.
"No cursing, Isabella," he whispered over my shoulder, scooping my hair into one of his hands and pulling it tightly.
I stilled in my movements. What? Suddenly, a hard, solid slap on my rear end pulled me back to our thrusting. I tried to push myself to meet his pace, but he was going too fast for me to keep up.
"Do. Not. Curse. Isabella," he said between pounding my tender lower lips. He pulled my hair tighter and reached his other hand around to rub my swollen nub. My eyes rolled back. It was too much, too intense; I felt my body begin to surrender to orgasm. "Now, Bella!"
My body obeyed him willingly, as I knew it would. The slick, warm walls of my pussy squeezed his cock—working him the way I knew he loved. His resounding groan only made my walls clamp tighter around him. With three more deep, slamming thrusts, he spilled into me.
"Oh, my Bella," he said moments later, slipping out of me and pulling me to lay beside him on the strewn choir robes. "I love you so much, baby."
I smiled against his chest, kissing his left pec sweetly. "I love you too."
A door below us shut with a soft click. We both looked at each other with wide eyes. Edward crawled over to the edge of the rectory, desperately looking below for the source of the noise; he found no evidence that anyone had heard us.
With a shrug he moved back over me, planting kisses on my thighs and the juncture between my legs. All thoughts of the intrusion were quickly forgotten.
T - T
Three months later, something happened that would be forever sealed into my mind. Jake had asked to try his hand at cooking, telling me he wanted to impress his "beautiful wife." Laughing, I conceded.
We'd found a happy medium in our relationship. Obviously, it meant more to him than it did to me, but we still got along very well and found a healthy balance between marriage and friendship. Every time I realized how nice it was to be married, a burning pang of regret registered in my chest.
"So, what are you making for your 'beautiful wife,' Jake?" I asked with a giggle.
He grinned at me and offered a gallant bow. "I'm making fried chicken for m'lady."
Suddenly, a waft of something sour hit my nostrils and I immediately covered my nose with my hand as the room spun. "Are you okay, Bells?" I heard Jake ask, but I was already up and fleeing the room before I could offer an answer.
I made it to the bathroom just in time to empty the contents of my stomach. Over and over again, I heaved into the toilet. When there was nothing left to come up, I sat back against the wall and pressed a hand to my clammy forehead.
"Are you okay?" Jake's voice startled me; I hadn't realized he'd followed me into the bathroom.
Slowly, I picked myself up off the floor and moved to the sink, where I splashed cold water in my face. I saw him watching me through the mirror. Swallowing the bile in my throat, I finally answered him. "I think I might be coming down with the stomach flu."
It made sense to me, but he shook his head. "I don't think it's a tummy bug, Bells," he insisted. I was about to ask him what in the world it could have been, but he changed the subject. "Will you be okay for twenty minutes if I run to the store and get you some ginger-ale and crackers?" I nodded.
Seventeen minutes later, I was laying on the couch with a cool, wet cloth pressed to my forehead when Jake walked through our front door, grocery bag in hand. He handed me a bottle of ginger-ale and a sleeve of saltines.
"I think you should take this, Bells," Jake told me, handing me another package.
"Detects pregnancy hormones 5 days sooner!" the box boasted. My eyes snapped to Jake in horror. He couldn't be serious!
"Bells," Jake told me soothingly, "my mom had six kids after me. I remember what the early signs were like. You have them. I don't think it's the stomach flu."
After the process of peeing on the little stick was completed, I felt like I was having an out-of-body experience. Jake sat beside me on our shared bed, holding my hand and lightly brushing his fingers over mine. When the three minute wait time was up, Jake asked me if I wanted to be the first to look, to which I managed to viciously shake my head with a resounding "No!" He retrieved the test from its spot on the bathroom counter and walked back into the room.
"Ready?" Jake asked. I sneered, but he still turned the test over and looked at the results. I knew the answer when a smile lit up his handsome face. He grabbed me, cradling me close to his chest, and spun me around. I didn't feel anything; I even had to remind myself to breathe.
I was pregnant. My mind flooded repeatedly with this question: Was it Edward's baby, or Jake's? I'd had unprotected intercourse with both of them...and on the same day—my wedding day.
Jacob spent the day pampering me. By late afternoon, I had yet to receive any text messages from Edward; he usually spent the whole day writing to me. When a call came in from our old friend Eric, whose car had broken down in the town about thirty miles east, Jake asked if I would be all right for a few hours by myself. I knew this was just the excuse I needed.
After Jake left, I headed to the church office. I needed to talk to Edward, and even more so, I needed him to fill me up to make me forget this mess.
But Pastor Cullen was nowhere to be found. Sister Johnson told me she hadn't seen him the entire day. I slipped out quickly, hoping to surprise him at his home.
I walked up the front steps of the house and noticed an unfamiliar car parked in the driveway. Raising my hand to knock on the door, something caught my eye. There in the living room for all to see, the beautiful Sister Cullen bounced naked, up and down in front of Edward. I knew what she was doing; this was one of Edward's favorite positions.
Jealousy flooded through me like a tidal wave. I wanted to break down the door and pull her off of him. Just when I started to turn the door handle, Edward's gaze reached mine. He looked both startled and completely turned on.
I stood stalk still, staring at him in shock. Part of me wondered if I had expected this all along, while another part of me said that this was just...marriage. Jake and I had coitus often, and I even taught him new ways to please me. But, watching the man I really loved do those things to another woman created a deep ache inside of me.
As quickly as possible, I fled. No part of me wanted to witness that connection between Edward and his wife.
When I made it home, I spent another hour gripping the toilet, pouring all the contents of my stomach into its porcelain bowl. Somehow, I managed to get up and pull myself into bed.
Two hours, twelve minutes, and forty-seven seconds later, Jake got home. He thought I was sleeping and didn't try to rouse me; instead, he planted a gentle kiss on my forehead and climbed into bed beside me.
T - T