Bella's Perfect Birthday

By: DefinatelyStaying

Prompts: Strawberries, Champagne, Love

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The water was perfect, hot enough to relieve the tension in her back as she rested in the deep claw footed tub. This tub was her one indulgence and nothing existed outside of this room when she was in it. It was simply her, water, bubbles, and the soft sounds of her iPod as it rested on the table next to her sanctuary. She could spend hours in the bath – reading, thinking, or simply relaxing. In it she wasn't mommy, or honey, or even Mrs. Cullen. In this place, she was simply, Bella. Nearly halfway through her relaxation playlist, the door opened and the bubble that was her haven burst. She nearly screamed in frustration until she saw the tray her husband carried.

"Happy birthday, love," he said softly, as she sat up a little and put her ear buds on top of her iPod. "My sister just picked up the children for the weekend. It's just you," picking up one of the hand dipped strawberries, he slowly ran it along her lips, "and me." She closed her eyes slowly and licked the strawberry. Her eyes opening again at his low groan, she watched with a smirk as he balanced the tray and leaned down to kiss her. He hesitated, just inches from her lips, and she felt her anticipation swell.

"I will be waiting for you in the bedroom with this. Do hurry, we don't want the champagne to get warm," he mused, and then his lips captured hers, and it was her turn to moan. Her nipples puckered as her back arched, and the cool air of the room washed over them. So many things about Edward excited her, but his surprises were the most delicious of all. He grinned conspiratorially, causing her heart to skip, and then carried the tray from the room.

Wasting no time, Bella hurriedly drained the tub and grabbed her favorite towel from the warming rack. When she indulges, she thought to herself, nothing is missed. After drying thoroughly, she wrapped the towel around herself and opened the door to find Edward lying nude on the bed drinking from one of the flutes. A bucket of ice sitting on the bedside table with the rest of the bottle waited patiently for her. Next to the bucket was a small pan with a bottle of oil bobbing in the water. He was warming it in preparation of a massage. The thought of his hands, warm and sufficiently oiled, made her knees weak. She wanted to eat those strawberries from his muscled stomach, and lick the champagne from his thighs.

As she reached the bed, he opened his arms to her and she dropped the robe delicately to the floor. The sharp intake of breath she heard from him was wonderful confirmation that he liked what he saw. As she climbed carefully into the bed and lay down in his arm, his warm skin pressed against hers, she thought -

This is the best fucking birthday ever.