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I'm excited, and still surprised, to announce that I've been nominated for two Sunflower Awards! C'mon, Mama Bear has been nominated for Best Lemon Pie. I have been nominated for Master of Lemons, which appears to encompass my entire body of lemon work so if you've enjoyed the sexy moments, please vote. The link is on my profile page. Thank you! Also, congrats to one of my betas, MelissaMargaret, who is up for several Sunflower Awards.

I hope you enjoy the second part of Esme and Carlisle's honeymoon.

October 1922

Heaven. I had no doubt that even if it was just for a little while, my immortality had landed me in a place of god and angels. There was no pain. The former world had passed away.

I could have stayed in that space forever.

I would never know any place more perfect than in Carlisle's arms, our bare flesh pressed together, fingers and lips roaming freely over each others' frames. Gentle whispers, laughter, cries of ecstasy. It was my heaven. It was our heaven.

So I was grievous when it was shattered.

I had made a conscious effort to push my other intimate experiences from my mind. I did not want to think of Charles, and certainly didn't want to compare him to Carlisle. They were night and day, and everything I had experienced with Carlisle the last few days solidified that so I was grief stricken when he invaded my mind by unknowing act of my lover.

It was my third afternoon as Mrs. Cullen. Carlisle had made a rare trip from our bed to retrieve firewood. I had popped out of bed to watch out the window as he leaned over the pile of wood. Too bad he had put pants on, but the rippling of the muscles of his bare back was striking. Too bad it was overcast. I need to spend more time getting to know that back when he gets back. I giggled and flitted back to the bed flopping down on my stomach to wait for his return. My arms above my head, I closed my eyes on the pillow.

I heard him re-enter the room and stoke the fire. Suddenly, and unexpectedly, hands wrapped around my wrists, and I felt the weight of him against my back. I was overcome with panic and fear as a memory that I had suppressed rose to the surface. My hands tightened, and my eyes squeezed shut. My body stiffened, flinching against the assault to come.

He felt it. He saw it. He was off of me in an instant, but it was too late.

"Esme, I'm sorry." His voice was strained from several feet away.

"I…" what could I say? That his innocent unknowing touch made me think of being assaulted by my first husband? It wasn't fair. It wasn't right that the man I adored was hurt because of the evil man that he had never set eyes on. I flung myself across the bed, and wrapped my arms around him. "I'm sorry," I whispered against his ear as I pressed my forehead to his temple. "I'm so sorry."

"Was it because I snuck up on you or because you felt like I was holding you down?" Of course he would try to be understanding.

"Both." I felt so foolish. My chest shuddered, and I gulped for air trying to suppress a sob.

He hushed me gently, and rocked me in his arms. How could his touch ever make me think of that monster?

After a few minutes my chest had quieted and he spoke, "Do you want to talk about it?"

I shook my head. "Not here. Not in our bed. This space is ours. It's sacred. I don't want him in it."

"Alright," he said as he kissed my forehead and slipped out my arms. I whimpered. "I'll be right back for you."

A flurry of blankets and pillows were rearranged, and a moment later he lifted me into the air and carried me over to in front of the hearth. He sat down on the blanket spread out before the fire. He leaned against the stack of cushions and pillows, and held me in his lap. He lifted my chin to look in his eyes. "The fact that you run into my arms as opposed to fleeing assures me that I haven't gravely offended you, but I have upset you."

"You have done nothing wrong," I sadly said. "I told you before my mind is broken, and this just proves it."

"Esme, you are not broken."

He could deny it, but I knew it was true. He needed to know what I truly faced.

I couldn't help the bitterness in my voice as I spoke. "I didn't know what was worse. Sleeping on my stomach or sleeping on my back. You see, if I slept on my back, and he decided that he wanted to have his way with me when he came home drunk, there was a chance I would wake up as his shadow crossed over me. I would have some leverage to push against him or defend myself, which really never served any purpose, but usually resulted in me being held down, tied down, hit, smacked, grabbed or pinched hard. I also had to look at him when he took me in this position. If I slept on my stomach I didn't know he was coming until it was too late. He already had me pinned beneath him, and there was nothing to do but submit. He would…" my voice was shaking. "He would violate either opening. It didn't matter to him when he was drunk. My screams of pain seemed to amuse him. The only saving grace in that position was that I didn't have to look at him.

"He degraded me. He defiled me. And he never seemed to tire of torturing me. He would grab me by the hair and force me to take him in my mouth. It wouldn't matter if I choked or gagged or vomited he wouldn't stop. His hands were always rough with me. His finger probed forcefully. Leaving his mark upon me actually seemed to satisfy him. He also took pride in his skills of marking me in places that could be hidden. And to add insult to injury, at times he would come home smelling of other women. I would wonder if they would end up as bruised and as battered as I did or if he was nice to his whores."

My voice was shaking with my sadness and my anger.

"He was his most sadistic though when he was liquored up, but not quite completely inebriated. He was in control of his functions, but loose in his morals and raging in his cruel desires. If he was completely inebriated he often would fall asleep after a round. When he was sober, we would spar with each other verbally, but his physical dominance usually beat me to submission unless I played his game, and even then I usually lost in the end. Every once in a while, he would spare his cruelty, and attempt to actually make love to me instead of just using me to fulfill his constant urges. How can you make love though when one partner feels no love or no desire? He knew any caress on my part was half hearted."

I paused to collect my thoughts. I wanted my next words to come out right.

"I approached our intimacy as being something totally new. I told you before that I knew it didn't have to be the way it was with Charles. Charles wanted my heart, and thought he could beat me into submitting it to him. All he earned was my despair.

"I knew from Grace and Helen that their relations with their husbands were happy. I didn't know what I physically felt meant at first, but I realized with time this need to touch you and be touched by you was desire, and it was something I have never known before. The last few days I have been in heaven with you. I have not thought about him. You have done everything right. I don't want you apologizing when you have done nothing wrong. My broken brain decides to pull up a memory from more than two years and another lifetime ago because all you did was try to surprise me. I'm the one at fault."

His eyes were wide, but he quickly recovered. "Esme, you have been traumatized. It may have been as a human and it may have been almost two years ago since you were last with him, but that doesn't make it any less traumatic. Every time you speak of him the story gets worse. Is there anything else you are not telling me?"

I shook my head. "Not that I can remember."

"I'm amazed that you have so willingly been with me."

This was the reaction I had feared. I laid my hands against his chest.

"Nothing has changed, Carlisle. We've always known that it was possible for him to rear his ugly head at unexpected it moments. It's not the first time although I hope every time that it will be last time he interrupts my happiness. You will never harm me. Your hands and your intentions are nothing but loving, and I know always will be."

"But-"

"But what? My silly reaction doesn't change how wonderful the last few days have been, and how wonderful they will continue to be. It doesn't mean that I want to know you any less. There is nothing that we have done that I haven't enjoyed and craved more of. Charles used sexual relations as a weapon, a way to exert his power over me, a way to make me feel his pain. With you and I it is an act of passion and love."

He rested a hand over mine and calmly spoke. "It's not a silly reaction, my love, and I wish you wouldn't treat it as such. I won't attempt to apologize again because you're right in that I didn't know. I've been so careful not to do anything that would produce a memory."

"Have you held back anything?"

"I don't think so, but I have tried to be aware of my actions."

"Don't. Don't for one moment let him dictate our actions. I haven't thought about him for a moment and I don't want you to either. Carlisle Cullen, I want you. I want all of you. If a memory rises, I'll deal with it as it arises."

"We'll deal with them, Esme, together. I want to make you forget him. I want to wash your fears away. I want to erase every lewd act and bruise and moment of abuse from your mind. I want it to be as if he never existed."

I shook my head because denying Charles never existed denied me of the one short little beautiful blessing from my human life. "That will never happen because the one good thing he ever gave me was my son, and for that reason alone he will never disappear completely. The memory of my child is the one thing I will hold onto like a vice."

He sighed, "But that contribution is the only one that will remain."

"You are already doing very well at making the bad times go away; in fact, they have been nonexistent," I said with kiss on his cheek. "I love you and I love being with you. I have no more to tell you when it comes to my former husband. Now can I can get back to learning about my beautiful, wonderful, new eternal husband?"

"Just one more thing, Esme, and I'll let it go." His brow was knitting and there was no need for it. I needed to smooth his worries away.

"What is it, love?"

His pointer finger slid over the scar at my throat. "I've marked you in places that you can hide and the marks are forever."

"It's not the same thing!" I practically squealed as my denial of his concern. "You were saving me not injuring me. The pain from the marks are long gone, and you've healed me." My fingers went up to my throat to touch his hand. "I love this and the other ones. too. They mark me as yours, and I will forever be yours. They're my re-birthmarks." I leaned in, and licked over his throat where it had been torn. "This makes you who you are. Without it you wouldn't be here with me."

"And I can't think of anywhere else I want to be more than here with you."

The light outside had faded, and the light from the fireplace blanketed our skin. I ran my fingers through his hair. "You appear to be a redhead at the moment, love."

"Do you like it?"

"It suits you in the firelight, but I love my blond god."

"Do you have any idea of how good that feels?" I moaned.

A week as Dr. and Mrs. Cullen and a week into our honeymoon, and I never wanted to leave. We couldn't get enough of each other. We stepped out of bed to hunt twice. Carlisle arose every once in a while to add fire to the fireplace, although I kept trying to get him to stay by telling him I wasn't cold, which was true. We bathed together on several occasions. We changed the sheets several times with me lewdly joking about him planning for the mess we were going to make with so many sets of sheets waiting for us.

"I was just being thorough," he said seriously, while looking down, attempting to hide his smirk from me.

We threw on clothes to hunt or to grab firewood, and wore a towel after getting out of our long baths, but they never stayed on for long. Those silly night clothes were long forgotten. The only thing we wanted against our skin was each others' flesh and those sheets.

At the moment I was settled in between his thighs, my back resting against his chest as he caressed my neck with his lips and my breasts with his hands. His fingers were so gentle that they were teasing me, and I loved the sensation.

"That moan gives me an idea," he teased as he moved his thumbs over my nipples eliciting a happy sigh from me. "You are so beautiful."

"In your eyes," I said as I pushed my hair further to side to allow his lips to continue their work.

"In anyone's who has eyes to see."

"I feel the most beautiful in yours."

"You are the perfect shape of a goddess," he said as one hand slid down to trace lazy circles over my stomach.

"Mmm, I wasn't always so shapely, but I was frozen in time at a moment when I was curvy."

"What do you mean love?" His lips traveled up to behind my ear.

"After leaving Columbus I took care of myself, and ate well for my baby, but after I gave birth you could barely tell I had just been pregnant. My hips were curvier than they were before and my breasts were fuller and they also were engorged when I jumped. Some things seemed to be tighter when I awoke, but I like it. I'm happy with how I look."

"I'm very happy that you're happy." His hand moved down to my thigh.

I laughed. "You are making my happiness."

"And you are making mine."

I turned my head to meet his lips with mine just as he slid his hand in between my thighs. My head involuntarily fell back with a gasp as his lips touched my throat instead. His fingers slid over my aroused wet flesh, and he murmured against my throat, "Are you alright?"

"As long as you don't stop that," I said breathlessly. He chuckled as he continued kissing my neck while moving his fingers in a dance over the sensitive bud, and every so often slipping one inside of me. The intensity grew, and with a perfect precision movement involving his thumb and fingers I was once again shaking and calling out his name. He continued to rub me soothingly as I relaxed back against him.

"You have very talented fingers, my love."

I could feel the smirk on his lips against the back of my shoulder as he lightly laughed.

"What?" I asked.

"Oh nothing," he said with delight still in his voice.

"Now you have to tell me." I was intrigued.

"I'm a doctor, love. Of course you're in good hands," he teased.

I laughed at his humor that amused him so. "And the best doctor in existence so I must be in great hands."

"The hands of a surgeon."

"Very precise and fantastic at their work."

He stopped the motion, and removed his drenched hand from between my legs and held it up to the fire light. He turned his hand over, observing it glistening.

"Esme, would you mind if I taste you?" I could hear that Dr. Cullen curiosity in his voice. I didn't know whether to be flattered or mortified.

"Off your hand?" My tone was flat.

"Mm hm. I'm just curious. You smell so wonderful to me and your skin tastes so good under my tongue. Your body emits this," he rubbed two fingers together, "because of our actions so I'm just wondering what it tastes like."

I felt like there was more of it pooling as we had this discussion. If it tasted bad then would he be loath to touch me, and if it tasted good, what then? But saying no to him was nearly impossible so I nodded my head and consented.

I looked down and away as he raised his hand to his lips. A moment later I heard and felt a groan from his chest before his lips pressed against my ear. "You are amazing in every way."

"I guess that means you like it." I was sure my entire body would be a bright shade of red if I could have blushed.

"Love it." His hand was snaking down over my mound again. "Essence of Esme." He sounded euphoric.

I started giggling uncontrollably. I swatted his hand out of the way, and rolled over out of his lap until they faded. I turned over to face him and his look was one of bewilderment, which made me giggle again.

"What is so funny?" His lip was twitching.

"Essence of Esme?"

"It's true. It's alluring."

"Like cheap perfume?" I teased.

"Far from it. I don't know how else to describe it." He was thoughtful for a moment as I laid there watching him. "When we talked about scents, it's like all of those things that I said I smell on you but then add in something more potent. On our first night together when you dropped your bloomers and exposed that scent to me, it took a lot of will power not to take you right at that moment. My nostrils flared, and you knew it, but you were not embarrassed in any way, instead you taunted me."

"It was your actions, and your presence that had me in that state. I realized there was no reason to be embarrassed."

"So why are you embarrassed now? My lips have tasted much of your skin, and also the venom in your mouth, so what's wrong with this? Is it too intimate? Have I crossed some invisible line?"

I needed to be honest with him. "I think so, and I don't want to upset you. I'm just so happy and comfortable where we are, and with what we are doing and have done. I'm just not ready to allow your head down there." My agitation was showing. While Charles had never taken such actions, I knew how much I hated performing them on him. No matter how much Carlisle was proving to me how wonderful every sexual experience could be that Charles had desecrated, that was one I just wasn't ready to experience.

In Carlisle's way he had his arms around me quickly trying to sooth away my sorrow. "Of course not, my angel. I'm sorry that I pressed you about it. All things in good time. I love you."

"And I love you too," I said as I relaxed back against him where I would always be loved and safe.

"I don't want to go!" I said with an over exaggerated whine.

"We have to, my love." He was always the voice of reason.

"Why? We're vampires. We can do whatever we want to do including staying naked in this bed for eternity."

"Esme, you're very, very tempting, but Edward will be expecting us."

He knew the magic word.

It was twilight outside on the day we would head home to Virginia began. Carlisle had the evening shift that night, and while I would gladly tell him to quit and to stay with me, Edward was the reason to head back into civilization.

For two weeks I had been his wife, and they were two of the happiest weeks I had ever known. We made love often, and rarely left our bed, but we also spent time talking and intimately getting to know each other better both physically and mentally.

I wondered how I was going to go back to a normal life, or at least as normal as it could be for us. It was going to take some adjustment, but it could wait.

"We still have a few hours before we need to get up," I said as I sidled up against him and kissed his shoulder.

"We do need to rearrange the furniture. Move the bed out of this room. Close up the house. We could get moving early. I'm sure Edward would be happy to see us."

I licked the shell of his ear, and rolled over onto my back spreading my legs apart, and beckoned to him with one finger.

"You're right as always, love, we definitely do still have a few hours."

Thank you for reading!