Chapter 22 Roses Are Red
A/N: Twilight belongs to Stephanie Meyer but these character's attributes are straight from my heart and mind.
I hope everyone caught the Oscars; they haven't been so watchable in years! And then there was Rob. So much more than watchable. Gah. Oh, and his hair looked like it is growing back nicely, don't you think? If you didn't notice (and haven't been keeping up on your TwiNews), he was sitting directly behind Mickey Rourke and boy, oh boy, has our guy been staying out of the sun. Good little Vampire. (Pre-post after thought: This bit of my A/N should tell you how long ago I began this insufferable chapter.)
The Chapter Song - Save Me From Myself, Christina Aguilera – and additional music can be found on my profile under G&B Music Playlist. I encourage you to listen to the party songs as they are mentioned, this will set the ideal tone, as well as the Chapter Song during Bella's second POV. Outfits on the profile as well.
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BPOV
Personally, I felt a little ridiculous. But socially, I knew Rose, Alice and I owned this party.
I could just make out Ali's vibrating form half way across the room; in the florescent darkness her Angel costume stuck out like a beacon. The white and silver mini dress, large feathered wings, sheer white hosiery and mirrored pumps were in direct conflict with the lust infused underbelly of the surrounding theme. Classic and demure, the thin halo adorning her raven array of spikes helped sell the idea of innocence and virtue. If only her hidden naughty-girl garter belt was on display. Twenty bucks says Jasper finds the rhinestones before the night slows down.
That I was even here at all was a testament to my unrelenting friends. If I'd been left the fuck out of it as preferred, Edward and I would be spending a quiet night of further physical exploration alone with candles and soft sheets, and I would certainly not be wearing this minuscule outfit.
But, thanks to the last Polo shindig, I'd been adequately versed in the Fremont way and really shouldn't have been surprised that there was actually an event called Kaleidoscope - Seriously, Kaleidoscope - the unending rotation of splendor and spectacular beauty? How entitled can one group of people be? - or that Alice was the brainchild behind said annual reincarnation of such profusion.
God, shoot me now. It was like fate was forcing me to make up for lost time.
Before being sentenced to preparatory hell, many meaningless happenings in life would pass me by; each one completely inconsequential, thus easily disregarded. I didn't mourn those holidays or events, milestones or rights of passage. Honestly, I couldn't be bothered.
Even before my days were filled with the drear and dull of Forks, Jasper and I had been permanently hunkered down in our own world, highly skeptical of entertaining "normal" notions or date specific fanfare, birthdays being one of the only exceptions.
There was just always something more worthwhile to fill our damn time with.
We'd both managed to skip sixth grade graduation in lieu of downloading and completing admissions applications for transatlantic colleges. Moving on to seventh grade meant more of the same only in a slightly larger, much shittier building - which certainly wasn't deserving of a fucking celebration - and Jasper had been convinced that there had to be people out there like us, a culture and rhythm we'd fit better with. Europe had seemed like a good place to start.
It was like our instincts played backwards, or simply refused the already beaten path, in comparison to the rest of the world; looking forward when we should have been remembering the past, watching horror movies on Valentine's Day, going to Mexico on the Fourth of July, even completely forgetting to celebrate Kwanza. Embracing my first date the way I did should have been a tip off that I was in for some serious boundary line shifting. My first undeniable sign.
So when last Wednesday arrived - making its damned weekly appearance - the realization that October was winding down hadn't even registered with my haphazard internal calendar, let alone that Halloween was a mere four days away. Until, of course, I began scrutinizing the ostentatious, silver and black invitation that had suddenly appeared in my grasp with "Bella Swan's Presence is Requested" scrawled across the envelope in intricate French script.
Not a complete dumbass, I was more then quick to their game. That didn't mean I was happy about it, however. Fuck the party that's specifically designed is to ring in the insignificant. Does no one listen to me?
"What the hell is this?" Guilty by decoration, my eyes had narrowed automatically on the sliver of midnight hair that was peeking out from under Jasper's arm. I may have been ignorant to who'd placed said dynamite into my hands but the design, color and embellishments all blatantly charged Alice as the guilty artisan.
"You know what it is." Rosalie yawed - while simultaneously recoiling from my far flung hand of chipped teal fingernail polish right near her face - bored already with this exhausted soapbox.
The fantastic five had been bombarded for weeks by my continual request for quiet. For avoidance. For the fulfillment of my innate desire to light this decrepit school on fire. Or maybe just its inbred inhabitants. I thought they had gotten the message loud and clear. This fucking Fremont fledgling was done getting her feet wet, let alone being thrown in the damn moat every turn around. When it came down to it, laying low or all out revenge, it was neither here nor there – any poison would do as long as it could be administered at an arms length.
Oh, I could handle getting rumored, publically tipsy and verbally bitch slapped by token trash as well as labeled the new whore on King Cullen's arm. I'd accepted that I'd forever avoid the female populous - out of fear of being shanked crossing the courtyard - for castrating the casual sex out of my boyfriend. His dick was supposed to be public domain eternally, don't you know? And I was perfectly capable of dealing with all of that. But that didn't mean I was going to sip drinks and sashay up next to that demented world.
Hell no.
So, when I said 'No Parties' I meant exactly that – plus a few choice expletives, in true Bella form of course.
The heavy, mirror encrusted invitation - feeling like pure lead in my left hand - reminded me though that I'd never really had a choice in the matter. Not because those who cared about me didn't hear or even sympathize with my plight, rather, they'd allowed me to naively blather on instead of shoving the reality down my throat at every outburst.
The rules of this world were still an unwavering golden statue.
Society wasn't an option. It was god.
And this deity driven kingdom required order, with Bella Swan as the fresh meat in its servitude. The load of a socialite, no matter if involuntarily elected, was a weighted, shiny burden to bear. Damn jewels and expensive paper.
The faces surrounding me had all resigned themselves to this fate long ago. I knew Alice hated these people as much as I did, maybe more being that she'd had to endure it her entire life. But instead of groveling and bitching, she planned and executed elaborate nights of imagination and frivolity. We each had to do what we must to just fucking make it through.
The air was thick with my final acknowledgement, flipping the envelope open and confirming the details aloud; adding as much acid to my voice as possible.
"A Halloween party." In the moments of quiet that followed I'd been able to find and adopt their years-learned resignation. My shoulders turned down as my first indication of defeat.
"Friday." A round of nods and empathetic eyes confirmed. Well shit, they'd barely given me any time to prepare. I figured this last minute notification ensured less time they'd have to listen to my verbal tirades, raging against the establishment.
I pulled at my hair from the root, continuing to absorb the thick black script regarding location, time and dress.
How will I be able to slip away if the party is in my suite? Will I be able to hide the lighter I plan to use on Angela Twat's hair somewhere in my costume? Wait … what will I wear? I assumed going as a private school girl was probably out.
"I don't have a costume." Alice face contorted, absolutely appalled by my lack of faith. Rose glanced back and forth between us, her eyes eventually resting on me to effortlessly convey the careless stupidity of my previous comment.
"Alright, I do have a costume." I was tiring quickly of this round robin.
Wisely, the guys had remained silent through the exchange; not wanting to encourage bite marks if and when they contributed in an inevitably inane and unhelpful way.
Even as a passing thought, bite mark encouraged my attention to stray towards Edward's shoulder. Our encounter from last Tuesday had been only fully reprised once, just the night before, and the culmination of being so close while simultaneously so far away from having every last bit of him had left me feeling horribly pent up. His shoulder had therefore been branded with the intensity of my impossible situation.
I wanted to get to the sex, but still found myself desperately and unnaturally worried that it wouldn't only be my body receiving the impact. Fucking crippled emotions. Party or not and mental instability aside, my thoughts had strayed completely to the man beside me.
"Do we get to match?" I purred in Edward's ear while both my hands trailed underneath his blazer, the right gently tracing the crescent indentation complements of an orgasming me.
He gnawed his bottom lip, indicating the mark was still tender, while his knee-weakening green eyes dilated with fresh desire. Both of his lithe hands came up to claim my rib cage, his thumbs sweeping back and forth under the swell of my lace-encased breasts.
"Hell no, we aren't matching them. That is so cliché, Bella." The tinkle of Alice's voice seemed far away.
Not matching had been fine with me. Honestly, who had time to think about coordinating holiday garb when Edward Cullen was fondling me up high and becoming increasingly hard down low and … damnitalltohell. My want for this man was epic.
Despite our distracted coupling, and the loud ramblings of students milling about all around us, Ali went on to explain the origin of the fabulous evening that would be Kaleidoscope.
Alice detailed how at the beginning of her freshman year she'd befriended the then senior "it" girl Heidi Morgan: stunning, infectious, undeniable – she could convince a starving man to abandon food outright with one simple red lipped promise of something better.
Heidi's tremendous power had been focused in two directions – pooty and parties. Yes, the male assurance of 'something better' had generally been girl-on-girl related. And her parties - just like her personal life - had been divine, erotic and unforgettable.
Alice's memories had dripped with awe and faithful adoration. Which led me to believe she hadn't only received lessons of the bash preparation persuasion from this labia lotharia.
"Alice, how good of friends were you and this sexy Heidi?" Innuendo heavy, smirk thick on my lips.
A ripple of interest circled the group. Only Edward had remained indifferent; his focus trained on tracing the detail of my bra through the regulation shirt and occasionally sucking my skin from ear lobe to collarbone. He seemed to hear nothing surrounding him; such was the intensity of his devotion to every wet, open-mouthed kiss. I knew if he kept going we'd make it to a total of zero classes.
"She definitely helped me to realize I'm one hundred percent straight laced." No embarrassment, just stating the facts.
Alice had definitely gone somewhere with Heidi. I was more than a little surprised.
"Damn, Alice," Rose exclaimed. If her and Jasper had been on speaking terms it would have been the type of moment they could find common ground in. Even with their estrangement I could see how Rose wanted to congratulate her brother's choice of adventurer, if not tease him for missing out on such an educational part of his now-girlfriend's sexcapades.
Jasper's poor slack jaw looked about ready to disconnect from his face. Swallowing the drool that had been, no doubt, pooling in his mouth, Jas contributed to the conversation in jest.
"I'm going to need to see a picture of this Heidi, for the purpose of mental image preservation of course." We all joined his chortling, though Edward's contribution had seemed forced and detached, his gaze not meeting mine but rather dancing all around the faces of our group and common room.
"Oh my god, Jas. It never got that good."
I would have bet Edward's left avoiding eye that there'd been some whispered follow up question exchanged between Ali and Jas about 'Tawny really being his only predecessor' – what the fuck? But the full length of the sentence had been cut off by the staccato of Alice's amusement. Weird.
Weirder yet was Edward's sudden rigid hold on my waist and continued inability to lock eye-to-eye. Alice's further hilarity pulled me out of my momentary quandary.
"Anyway, Bella. I apprenticed under Heidi-" I couldn't help but snort a little with my following inspired laughter which brought everyone raucously crashing down again. "You guys - Stop!" But Alice had eventually joined in, rounding out the five of us as the most spirited in our complete group of six chorusing hyenas.
Kaleidoscope ended up being everything Alice eventually described, and so much more – thanks to the countless, last minute upgrades and decorative additions.
Apparently, last year Alice had to host the Halloween extravaganza in the guy's suite - to her utter chagrin. Well, more accurately, being that it was a progressive party which included all five of the penthouse suits - each set dressed with a slight variance on the overall theme and maintaining a copacetic assortments of food and music - Edward and Emmett's pad had only been one of the five locations. Suffice it to say, she was ecstatic when Rosalie agreed to host this year, and wrangle the other penthouse princesses into opening their doors.
There hadn't been much arm twisting – like Rosalie Hale needed to ask anyone twice for anything; no one wanted to deny themselves a night of masquerading or the loss of day in, day out humdrum at the hand of liquor and luxury.
Gazing from corner to corner of our packed suite, I couldn't restrain the awe; it was all actually pretty fucking brilliant. Remember to never bet against Alice.
Platforms, wrought iron Victorian cages and moveable, mirrored walls adorned our ruby and black color-coordinated suite; still following this year's Moulin Rouge Cabaret theme but with a significant, grandeur superiority to the other locations. We were essentially the main stage of this Parisian Spectacular.
More S&M than frilly femme, I felt like I had been transported to a half crazed, pulsating fun house. Forget Fremont. And with that thought I understood why Alice enjoyed this so much; she was forgetting where we were forced to learn and live and survive by creating her own wild play world.
Somehow the endless possibilities infused me.
My new plan would be to submerge myself in the freedom of this tantalizing universe. I couldn't outrun myself for long, but I could drown in the foreign things I harbored secret earnest for, but never dared to indulge in - if only for this evening. A little rum, maybe a dance or two and a small taste of the culture I'd dreamed of enveloping me for so long.
"Darling sister, don't fidget. The guys will be back stat with drinks." I tried to hold still but ultimately continued to sway in my stacked platform slingbacks.
"Oui, oui cher de soeur. But don't forget that what you may view as fidgeting the coordination impaired call 'trying to stand upright.'"
"You are Snow White tonight, not Bella." Rosalie scoffed, but graciously reached out for my elbow to help steady me.
"And that alters my inner clumsy how? Just because you aren't purely Rose tonight, but instead your 'clever' alter ego Rose Red, should I expect you to forgo your sexual powers of control and seduction? No. You can't turn it off anymore than I could pretend not to be feet-over-ass prone. Why don't you run along and try to find a bear or a dwarf or something?"
I'd laughed right out loud when Rose had suggested we pair up as the sisterly duo in the ancient fairy tale Snow White and Rose Red. But Rosalie decided this year she was going for nonthreatening and, I secretly believed, was drawn to the happy ending of said fantasy story. And who was I to argue? My features fit Snow White's perfectly – since both my friends were kind and purchased the popular costume version rather than whatever plain dress the Grimm character wore.
Well, purchased was bit of an understatement. Alice had found a website that made fantastic pin up girl outfits and costumes years ago and had ever since worked with a designer friend on the recreation, alteration and tailoring process. What we wore tonight were custom expressions of those online dresses - meaning they were fitted with raised hemlines and cut from imported fabrics with vivid coloring.
"Our costumes may be based off a silly little Grimm tale but you know it was just my excuse to slut up the Strawberry Shortcake costume and -"
"And be something bitch-free for once?" I cut her off and tugged absentmindedly at my red fishnet thigh highs.
"Sure, that too."
After calming the demon factor in her real life, Rose had decided snarkenfreude succubus could no longer be her angle on any night – even the one annual occasion where all pretending was excusable and allowed.
So Rose had worked with the designer personally to alter what was supposed to be a completely different character's costume, easily transforming it into her personal vision of Rose Red: The Innocent Sex Kitten. Or Naughty Pilgrim. Or Happily Ever After Sweetheart.
This Rose Red character was, in essence, as close to herself Rosalie could manage and have it still qualify as a "costume" – in her mind, Rosalie was just playing the red-hot version of her new self.
Whatever statement the short red dress, with an apron and puff sleeves paired with black fishnets and patent leather Mary Jane heels, made was completely subjective however; the determining factor probably being whether the observer had a dick or not. Either way, this was Rose's idea of a tame and tender Halloween get-up. Never mind the smoky eyes framed in thick false eyelashes and mile long sex hair that screamed upper crust courtesan.
"You're allowed to be whatever you want on Halloween, Rose. Even the ghost of your former self past." Her glossy red nails met their fiftieth appraisal of the night as she registered my encouragement. My words were to serve as reminder that Rome wasn't built in a day. But who the hell was I fooling? Rose had been gravitating this way for much longer than twenty-four hours or days, perhaps even more than six months worth of weeks.
"I know." Her eyes spoke deafeningly of how aware she was of her options.
And I did understand. She didn't want to be the same. Softening anywhere she could manage had become a great progression for her. Away with the entire case of pretense and posturing, Rosalie was a vulnerable, passionately in love girl. No more conniving minx. At least, not as of late and certainly not tonight.
"I guess that says a hell of a lot about your resolve. She's gone isn't she?" I greatly wanted to believe this growth in my cousin was permanent. It had become actually possible to be around each other this way. No dance, no eye clawing, no pervy rumors.
"Pretty much." Rose's blue eyes darted around the party as she gently pulled her fingers through her rear-length, curly blond extensions and swayed back and forth to Lily Allen's The Fear.
I don't know what's right and what's real anymore
I don't know how I'm meant to feel anymore
When we think it will all become clear
'Cuz I'm being taken over by The Fear
These lyrics were a striking contradiction to the girl who stood beside me. But fuck the mirrored wall just to her right, because the reflection in it stared back at me and the brown eyes I found there seemed completely lost in The Fear. Why can't I manage to get over my shit? Hell if I ever thought my screwed up, piss on the world cousin Rose would become yet another example of how fracked I truly was. Topic change? Fuck yes; this was a night to forget to think. Just live, B.
"Are you talking to Jasper, yet?" I didn't want to sour shit up, but it was quite literally the first thought that popped into my clouded mind.
"I guess we are on the mend. If you can repair something overwhelmed with hate." At the moment, I was the only person she was speaking to, her partner in costume-crime, so she didn't need to sass it up for appearances sake, but her lately kind voice was calloused and I knew it was because the pain inflicted by Jasper was also connected to her repairing feelings towards me.
I knew Jas was attempting to reconcile with his twin. The level of revulsion he felt for his actions and choices towards his relationship with Rosalie, stretching far back into our childhoods, was immeasurable. He was determined to fight for her, to show her his love. He made me proud and pissed all at once, since he certainly hadn't given up trying to position himself between Edward and I, even if only subtly. If only he knew about the bite mark, I smirked to myself. Damn his perfect pale skin for healing so quickly.
"Rose, you know you only sort of hate him." It's okay if you still kind of hate me too. I knew we'd get there all the way eventually. I mean, fuck, she asked to match for Halloween.
My mind strayed to the idea of semi-hatred. If someone could sort of hate, did that mean they could short of love? That didn't seem possible. Or perhaps, there was only one portion of you that did either so, no matter what, it was always a case of 'sort of' because there were the other bits not full of love or hate. Wouldn't that feel empty?
And what about my exceptionally filling feelings for Edward? There wasn't any halfway point or portion control to those. They were all encompassing. But what they were was mystifying. Warm hands tugging at my hair-twirling fingers and halted my absentminded train of thought.
"That's true. God, Bella, stop messing with your hair. Just let it fall down your back; don't twist it in your fingers and get it tangled. Damn, did I just snag my fishnets?" She reacted like her overly appraised fingernail had grazed the triangles of her black stockings.
Stepping back to help call foul, I absorbed Rosalie fully for the first time; she truly was a sight to behold. Though last year's mermaid get up had been more skin, less chaste vixen –or so was the story the pictures told - anything on Rose incurred a certain amount of attention and assumption. Mermaids were mythical but Rose Red was a fantasy. No wonder Emmett had embers blazing behind his eyes as our men approached, drinks in hand, damn swaggers on.
His green eyes were drifting from my toes, up my barely covered legs and all across the yellow, blue and red Snow White ensemble I was festooned in. He'd already complemented everything clothing, teased hair and soft makeup related. Edward had yet to find words, however, to convey his admiration for Alice and Rose's drastic reduction of the bust line on my dress. But the way he had to continually check himself from starring at my straining cleavage was acknowledgment enough.
Moments of such respect and control always seemed to remind me how shiny and new he'd made himself for me. 'Unavoidable,' he'd said. 'You're what makes me my best self,' he'd promised, but I knew better. Choices. Life was just one pivotal decision after another.
Just as he'd become, he'd made me his. Edward's girl. Only. 'For as long as you let me stay.'
Freedom. Beautiful, unforeseen sovereignty. Being with him was so very right. Not at all like an addition, but rather a missing piece I'd never been aware was gone until I let it claim its residence.
Since the moment I saw him – welcome home party, Alice's confusing hug, horrible new student status and all – he'd awakened a realization deep inside me. It scared me to think that what he'd caused me to face was life. 'Remind me I'm alive' swirled around us as Edward encased me in his strong grip.
Well, if I had to have a wake up call, thank god it had come from the currently chest bared, toga-clad Edward Cullen.
All of these further epiphanies threatened my "no thought, just live" policy for the night. I tried to train my mind back across the sea to an alluring culture perfectly mimicked on every wall, drapery hanging and the glowing iconic Pigalle windmill near our slowly swaying forms.
I was deep in the heart of our own recreated Paris red-light district, intrigue and mystique absorbing into every cell, but the more I focused on the idea of escaping to France, the less revolutionary it began to feel. Even shallow.
No - places didn't seem to be the answer.
People.
Lovers.
… Edward.
Under the pulse of electric guitar and words promising sure-fire dreams, sex and candy, that – his name - sounded like answer enough to me.
If my calculations were correct then Edward Cullen equaled life. And I wasn't going to let thought get in the way anymore.
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EPOV
A length of dark brown, satin hair slightly curled at the end and so girlishly bouncy, trailed behind the cascade of heavy, endless tresses. The stray tendril slipped over my bare chest, caressing my nipple, as its passionate owner traveled purposefully down my body. Positively sinful creature.
In more than the obvious ways, Bella held full ownership of me; the reoccurring fantasy I was currently lost in was proof of that.
Pure and simple. And snarky and sexy and insatiable and – fuck, I couldn't even state an observation without turning it around into a description of my enigmatic dream girl.
But it was undeniable. Bella possessed, consumed and was even beginning to define the new me – Edward Cullen, reformed bad boy and virgin reincarnate. I barked right out loud at the choice verbiage – virgin.
The idea of me as a prudish first-timer was more than laughable. I could hardly recall the act of discarding that particular title so long ago, let alone deny the years of lascivious rabblerousing that followed. But it somehow seemed the only fitting title now.
I was a completely new man with her.
And because of such an extreme identity alteration, how serious every single day had suddenly become. It was disarming to find you've been given another chance at life; more like intimidating and stress inducing actually, when the consequences of failure were as unfathomable as literally losing your fucking heart and soul.
Honestly, I've never been great with the realities of failure, or the weight of responsibility for that matter. But as these last few weeks passed us by - spurring such comfort and intimacy between Bella and me - it was obvious this new Edward's personal success was peripheral. Keeping and treasuring Bella now remained the only victory paramount to my ultimate win.
Alice said she'd known I'd evolve this way, eventually, but she'd never expected a change, tantamount to rebirth, to rear its ambiguous little head while we still sulked through the courtyard of Fremont. However, no matter Alice's conviction, I truly believed if Bella hadn't come along I wouldn't have ever changed.
Bella.
I could concern myself with my shortcomings and obsess over the inevitable way I'd someday strike one of her emotional landmines, possibly loosing her forever.
I could.
But what a fucking crazy waste of time that would be, because no matter how I worried such problems - unavoidable and otherwise - it would always be Bella's hang ups that held us back from being together one hundred percent.
I never thought I'd be the healthy one in any relationship. You, in a relationship? That was never an option; of course you never fucking thought on it. But with Bella I had been able to strip away my past - thanks to the internal evolution she inspired - while she clung to hers like a faulty heart remains reliant on a pacemaker. My girl's ghosts never ceased to haunt.
No amount of analyzing helped me make sense of her motives and limitations, but I just couldn't seem to stop the peace shattering questions from hurling themselves in every far-reaching corner of my mind.
Does she allow herself to revel in the familiarity of constant stress instead of challenging herself to grow and move on?
Is that what keeps her helming the vehicle of her ever-vacant passenger-seat life - why she can't pass on the responsibility for a while? Was her constant frenzy and uncertainty just a symptom of control fatigue?
Did she actually want me to screw us up so she could go on being the same person, ignited and affirmed by her principles, never having to change herself?
Could my brilliant, unique, amazing girl truly choose to stay plagued by the ease of a predictable, practiced life - collateral damage be damned?
Would her fears eventually ruin us?
I knew that I loved her, but had no idea if she was even capable of loving me in return. But if nothing else, I did believe she'd learned to trust me.
My thoughts picked up where they'd left off in the replay of last Tuesday night.
... caressing my nipple, as its passionate owner traveled purposefully down my body. Her hot panties shifted down my leg, grinding her dampness there, creating friction for herself as her panting breath touched my thigh…
Holy fuck, Tuesday. My new favorite fucking day of the week.
This last foray had been physically similar to the week prior - only ever more akin to torturous, control maintaining hell than fucking first time brain overload.
Panting, moaning, so wet, tight grip, sweet lips – every set. FUCK. Her bites, breasts and hot breath left me beguiled. How her mouth would drop and eyes roll back when I'd make her cum. How every time she got me off I could only think of sinking deep inside her, filling her up, and leaving my mark as her first – her only.
If I wasn't careful I'd break out in a sweat just thinking about it. And since I was seriously under clothed, with my entire chest and back exposed nay a thin Roman shoulder sash, getting worked up would just be disgusting.
Finally some good shit, I thought as Muse's Hysteria flooded the system, twisting and turning around the body of dancer's - lost in sweat and friction, drinks and joints teetering in hand.
Bella was breathing heavily and sliding her drink free hand farther into my gold toga as we ground closer and harder, punching the beat with our motion. If she wasn't careful, though, she'd quickly find out I was all commando, all the time under there. Me naked in anyway - outside of bed play - somehow always seemed to spark trouble with Bella claiming intolerance over my "tempting her."
All I have to say to that is … tempting her? HOLY FUCKING SHIT!! I would surly die soon. And I wasn't going to wear fucking underwear if I didn't want to - which was often.
"OH." Her little hand was gently running back and forth across my bare ass, slowly stopping to trace the part. I'd anticipated what her hunting hands would encounter, but underestimated the effect her smooth nails would instantly have over me. It has been too fucking long – I'm up for any damn thing these days. I wanted her to scratch me, right then, even draw blood. I just needed to feel something. I miss my bite mark.
"Yep." I said as sweetly as I could while groaning internally at the impending impossible situation involving a massive erection and minimal fabric.
"Me too." What? Her too what?
"You too?" Three seconds later, an understanding explosion erupted between my ears. "Dammit Bella, you're in a dress. God." My heart raced as bare-visual after sex-on-the- dance-floor fantasy assaulted every brain wave.
I dropped my hand lower and brought it between us in the darkness, slowly inching my way under her hemline.
"Sssshhhiitt." My head fell to her shoulder as she drew closer and giggled softly into my neck.
Not a stitch of material covered her from, well, any exposure. She's been this way all night …
God, I love this girl.
And I did. So much.
Every bit. Every moment. Every piece. Even when I was in trouble or she scrambled my mind. Just pure love. Her individuality, how ignorant she was to everything she possessed and how great a gift she was. Just pure fucking love, baby.
And after tonight I'll never trivialize her capabilities in the art of surprise. My entire body shuddered as I moved my fingers once, twice, three times over Bella's slit - her moans coming low and fervently.
I didn't want any other motherfucker seeing, though, cause then Bella images would fill up their empty brains even more than they already did. No fucking way. Not here. FUCK!
I fell out of my mind, out of control, absolutely over powered by the atmosphere and the total exposure of my girl. Coupled with love, I was an absolute mess.
"I think I need to walk away and go calm down or something?" I pinched the bridge of my nose quickly, but refused to be "that guy" - the prick - so I looked back at her, which was my second huge mistake. (The first of course had been reaching up that damn Disney dress.) Without restraint, I found myself swimming in the curve of her soft, straining cleavage.
Look away.
NO!
And suddenly the dress was gone and my beautiful girl was in only thigh-highs, heels and skin. I sunk down to my knees completely enthralled by her beauty, stretching my hands up to palm both pert, pink nipples as my tongue slipped deep inside her, tasting beyond the borders for the first time.
"Why would you want to calm down?" I shook my head, attempting to knock loose the hazy sex my mind was caught up in. What was her question?
The Bella in front of me kept flickering back and forth between Halloween party Snow White and naked, wanting, coming girlfriend. Is the room spinning? Wait, didn't she ask something? What the fuck was her question?
"I …. um …. well-" The surrounding song was pulsing through my thoughts disrupting my ability to recall my beautiful Bella's question – it was saying everything my mind was screaming.
And I want you now
I want you now
I feel my heart implode
And I'm breaking out
Escaping now
Feeling my faith erode
The lion was getting free. Fuck. The last thing I wanted to do was pressure her. God, I am such a monster. Here my poor girlfriend was afraid, not ready, trying to endure and be patient and I couldn't even saddle up next to her. But obviously, support was just not something I could handle in this moment - unless she needs me to brace her body weight as I drive into her against that back wall.
"Edward, come here."
I could not go to her. I'd lose it.
"Edward …" A look of concern crossed her features, but a playful smirk tugged lightly on her lips. Pouty, full, red lips. She had caught the bottom one between her teeth but released it just before her mouth assaulted mine, reigning my head to the side, her fingers fisting my hair, and me flush against her once more as her tongue met mine deep and fast. Bel-la, god. I knew I'd never wanted anyone the way I wanted her in this moment. Or loved. All new. Everything. The magnitude blew my mind.
The heat of the kiss simmered as she pulled her slightly wet lips back and forth other mine, trailing down to my jaw line. I had her in full embrace now, unable to let go even though I knew I should. My hands were at her hips and thighs and briefly slipping under her skirt to encounter each warm, bare cheek before finally coming up behind her neck and at her waist respectively.
Putting as much meaning behind my words and gaze as possible I willed her to understand my weakness and not hate me for it, "I don't want to let you down." I cannot push you. I will not.
"Like how I've been letting you down?" I'd never wanted her to feel like taking our time was difficult for me because I knew she'd only berate herself that much more. It looked like this asshat was out of bounds on every play. Damn. It. All.
"Bella, please stop. You haven't. I know we'll have our time. It's okay." I wished I were a stronger man, a man who meant these words. No, I wasn't blaming her but I wasn't okay. I was a raging, lovesick nymphomaniac, apparently.
"My crazy mind has fucked this all up. But, Edward, I'm not confused anymore." Her eyes were so pretty when she went all fiery and pissed. "And I think it will be okay … as soon as you get me back to your room." And I loved how she never stopped touching my- wait. Hold the shit … back to my room?
"What do you want to do there?" I had to ask. It would be unfair of me to hope for anything she hadn't explicitly spelled out. Unkind really, to both of us. Yeah, shit was that confusing.
She blushed deeply and it was phenomenal, touching every expanse of skin I could see. Shall I peek under your skirt and see just how powerful this blush really is, Sweet Cheeks? Fuck man, she's only pantiless – calm it down. The apples of her cheekbones were like bright rose petals – only softer. My hand moved of its own volition to caress the side of her face and neck. Hell yes … softest.
"It's okay, love. Whatever you want." Somehow my pulse was evening out, but my dick had missed the plea for calm and was becoming more and more uncomfortable. Down! You love her …
Bella leaned in closer and I thought she wanted to resume our dance. Instead, her breathy words tickled my ear and lapped at the precum at my head.
"I want to know what you taste like and how it feels to have every last inch of you inside of me. You're fuck large … so be gentle with me, Edward."
Brain damage.
Silence. All but the cock cheering.
Joke? Imagination? Another explicitly vivid fantasy?
Her big brown eyes said no.
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BPOV
I was ready. Well, I'd always been fucking ready but by side stepping the pesky fear and warning laced thoughts I found myself resolved and elated to actually fuck. And in major need of the tension relief.
I could feel all of him pressing against my stomach and actually making quite the public appearance without folds of fabric to hide behind or any room left to engorge in his sex-on-a-stick toga. He's mine ladies. Yeah, yeah you can murder me later … let me get thoroughly fucked first is all I ask.
But only by him. Edward Anthony Cullen.
"Isabella Marie Swan, I pray you're being serious." He could only whisper. So I followed suit.
"As serious as you are reformed." His eyes lit up at my choice comparison.
"That's fucking resolute, love."
"Mmm … fucking …" The words came slowly and as if only a breath. My heart had taken flight moments before reaching such elevation I suspected it would never operate at normal function again.
"Shit." His hands went over his face and through his tousled hair. Heaving a shaky breath, he extended an arm to me and smiled his slanted, cocky grin, "Shall we?"
"Please."
And through the door we went; this exit being nothing like the last forced party departure. Everyone and no one could have been watching and judging but in our minds eye, we were alone.
There weren't many words left to exchange as we crossed campus, closer and closer to the end of the first phase of my life and on to the next. Usher it in, baby.
My thoughts skirted around the reminder that is was never the forfeiting of my virginity that had my mind and heart in knots, but just as sure as my heels were clacking against the pavement it took only two quick clicks to tune myself out. Live. Live. Live.
Light rain blanketed us, but I was just thankful it had stopped inflicting bucketfuls for the first time in a week.
Five minutes later we were at the suite door. I was trembling.
Cold, nervous, exhilarated. Well, mostly nervous.
"Bella." Edward's voice was strangled and husky and sent my heart soaring to new, uncharted heights. No one would ever want me like this again, it had to be a one-time deal – take it or leave it. Someone couldn't have such fortune and blessing twice in one lifetime. As if there's anyone like him out there anyway.
As Edward fumbled with the key I found myself pressed up against hard wood, every curve of mine meeting an angle of his. I breathed him in deeply as he licked and pulled at my swollen bottom lip. Edward's free hand pinned my arms high above my head and I groaned in surrender; at that moment it was my mouth he begged entrance to and I happily succumbed. His warm tongue traced my teeth before passing through and winding with mine; I didn't fight for control – this was all him. I was ready to follow.
Swinging open behind me, the door no longer held me up. So, as Edward anchored us, each of his hands took turns freeing themselves long enough to lift my legs effortlessly, ensnaring his waist in my grip. Not one beat of our passionate kisses were disturbed, but my mind was going hay wire as my bare center came in direct contact with his flimsily covered hardness.
It was all him beneath me and the idea of All Of That was truly delicious.
Inside the suite we were met with silence. Absent was the driving musical stimuli of the party, gone was the active night with its adequately provided background noise, but with everyone from Pike at Kaleidoscope the guy's suite was pin-drop quiet. I could feel the energy we were submerged in slowly changing, evolving, expanding.
Now all that was left was Edward and me.
Us.
Our noises were the dial controlling the electricity around us now. No more were we speaking of taste and size and fucking. Now, together this way, I missed such playfulness and hated its previous presence at the same time. Walls.
Always fucking walls.
Instead of words and games and gimmicks, however, we were now filling the surrounding space with sighs and soft moans. Occasionally Edward would growl into my skin and I lived for the moments my name tumbled from his lips.
Both his hands rocked my hips helping me shift down his full length and damn if it didn't redefine what fuckgood was in my humble experience. Resigned that this would be the first of many new sensations, Edward's words reminded me how in tune we were, "That is nothing. Just wait, love. Let me show you."
His words were tender and truth and want and reverence … a promise of more than pleasure. As I acknowledged the deeper meaning, a hushed sob broke free and a new fervor surged through me.
We'd already locked ourselves away in his room, so I guided him towards the bed and stepped back, holding my hand out so he knew to give me distance. Without leaving the wonder of his green eyes I tugged the side zipper of my dress down and with it the dress itself. He'd known I had nothing on the bottom, but with the confines of my dress I hadn't needed a bra either. My hands reached to roll my fishnets down, but the widening of his eyes stopped me and before a moment passed Edward was kneeling before me, hands at my breasts and mouth hovering below.
But he didn't kiss. He didn't lick. He just rested his head against my stomach.
"No. Not like this." I wasn't sure what his muted words meant. All too quickly, though, he was showing me as I was suddenly in his arms and being carefully carried across the room, his kisses landing on every bit of me he could reach.
Slowly Edward set me on the edge of the tall bed and crouched once again. But instead of bee-lining for the motherland, his hands grasped each of my thighs and smoothed the stockings down, taking my heels with them. Standing up he placed my hands on the strap of his toga and together we undressed him. Sandals unbuckled and forgotten on the floor, he pulled us both to the center of my favorite place in the entire world.
It felt nice being quiet, just laying back and reveling in the heady atmosphere, but Edward didn't remain next to me for long. Lifting up, Edward with all his naked, lean musculature hovering over me, slowly rested his aligned body on mine.
It was so intimate, having his skin flush with mine pressing into me in all the best places. I wished he'd let go and rest fully on me; the idea of his weight pressing me into the mattress, anchoring me down was incredible. Edward.
He rested between my slightly parted legs and I knew I had to be seeping all over him as the desire to move him inside me dripped down my thigh. I spread my legs, shifting my pelvis, and wound my feet over his calves. This brought us so close: mouth to tongue, breasts to chest, fire to velvet.
His lips traveled Edward down my body and finally – god finally – his tongue was inside me - deep, seeking, direct. I was floating away in an out of body experience as one of his fingers came up to tease my entrance.
"Please, Edward. Please."
"I love it when you say my name." Two fingers chose to reward me instead of the mocking, measly one. Hell if anything will prepare me for all of you, mister.
His rhythm and pressure were divine. Edward sucked each of my lips individually, nibbling lightly and driving me wild - my head thrashed and nails clawed at the pillow top. Those expert fingers coiled and pumped, increasing in speed just as his tongue dove at my clit.
"God. Oh, shit-fuck Edward." His green eyes bore into mine as they glistened between my legs, mixing with my already favorite image of his face nestled and his hair in heavenly disarray. Just how I imagined you since the beginning.
I was one subtle pressure change away from plummeting when Edward slowed everything he was doing and shot up to my mouth, covering my lips with his, the wet and taste of myself everywhere his tongue explored.
Before frustration could hit, he was rolling me onto him sliding my knees forward and lifting my shoulders. The look in his eyes as he took in every inch of me, straddling him fully - hair a mess, cheeks no doubt flaming – was of undiluted and incomparable adoration.
"When your cheeks blush red it's my favorite." He moved to draw me to him again but I was out of his grasp, slinking down and pulling the tip of his very hard cock into my mouth before he maneuvered me away.
"Oh, Bella." His surprise was my delight. Edward's smooth, taunt skin, the pulse beneath and the ridge of his head … I loved doing this. I couldn't quite pull all of him into my mouth and as it was he was gliding down my throat, hitting the back every once in a while.
"Love … shit … that feels incredible. No one's ever taken me so deeply." I pulled up and met his eyes. I didn't feel coy, and I didn't want to have his dick away from my mouth for long, but - I don't know – it needed to be said. This was a huge fucking deal. I didn't want to pretend it wasn't and forget any moment of this.
"No one's ever taken me period."
"Fuck." And we were a whirlwind. On my back again I felt his tongue lapping and hands heaving the weight of my breasts, quickly pinching my nipples in a shocking mix of pleasure and pain. And then he was above me, nuzzling my neck with his nose, kissing me fully on the lips and pressing his condom clad head into my entrance.
Slowly he found my barrier and as he held me in preparation, forming his sweet lips to mine, it was all so different than I thought it would be. I somehow assumed that in the heat of the moment the Edward Cullen would surface - how my thoughts had led me so far astray, when every other encounter between us had never resembling his former ways, I didn't understand – but now, at this precise juncture I saw everything he'd put up with in me. Everything he'd become for me; Edward's patience and the difficult paces I'd required hadn't scared him away but only made him care and reach out more.
With one breath and a whisper of my name – my Isabella – from his lips he pushed through.
It did hurt. But not badly, so I took a second, found his eyes and slowly pulled him deeper until I was full and then I pulled farther still, because my man was huge.
And it was just us. Fully caught up. His eyes were hooded but moist and his ragged breathing paused for a subtle gulp, the muscles in his neck straining, as he moved for the first time. He knew I was okay because my face and body told him so.
Edward picked up speed and I joined his rhythm, slow and purposefully, wrought with meaning.
"This isn't fucking, Edward." I whispered into his lips, his head bowed to remain forehead to forehead.
"I know it isn't, I know." His arms were shaking and I thought it was because he was trying not to squish me, but his legs were trembling a bit as well and he wasn't alone. We were subtly quaking together.
"I don't know … I'm … I don't know. I think I'm scared." It was so much. My mind flooded with our actions and who he was and who being with him had made me. My finger was dying to point out just what those Edward feeling were … the all encompassing ones.
"I've never made love to anyone before either, I'm scared too." Made love. I met his motion quickly wanting to feel the brush of our pelvises at that moment, for that was the closest we could physically be. I needed him next to me as I was transported into my wildest dreams, knowing I could never get close enough but aware that I'd likely die trying.
"Edward, it's not the same thing," I mewled, but my words were superfluous. I knew he understood. Somehow this was his first – I was his first. And the light broke and my finger zeroed in. I do … it's there … I do.
"For me it is, Bella. The person I am now is new and only for you." And this truth, expressed in passionate grunts and breathlessness, was our oxygen. Our rhythm was increasing and so powerful that my toes curled and I held onto him for dear life as the tears streamed down my cheeks. Life.
"I love you, Bella." He does … it's everywhere … he loves me.
"I love you, too. I do." I do, it's there … right there. My heart had found perfect clarity.
"I do," I whispered again.
Over and over he thrust and I followed, coming together. Literally, figuratively. Together.
"Edward."
"Bella."
We were loud in our avowal of the other, because we were all the other was consumed with. We breathed as one, settling down, as he slowly wound us up in the sheets. We stared eye to eye until Edward's lashes ghosted towards his still damp cheeks, finally closing.
"I do," I mouthed into the warm room, careful not to make any noise that would disrupt the man coiled in my arms and our perfect comfort.
I'd said it before, for him, for me. This repeat was for my thoughts. They'd held tight on the back burner while I showed Edward my love, fully, but I knew they'd return with a vengeance and sooner than I'd like.
Please, not tonight, I prayed silently, for this night was full enough.
And I was brimming, being in love and having made love to Edward. It felt like I'd been given the only fitting life vest after assuming I'd certainly sink to my death.
Edward was that life vest.
My love. My life. My savior.
Yet, as I drifted off it was unmistakable - the water, the pressure, the certain death were all rushing once more in my direction. I could feel it around me as my mind opened me up to my dreams and my subconscious couldn't turn the forbidden thoughts away.
Love means need. Need means forfeiting control and weakness. Weakness means pain and abandonment.
… Everyone is a passing ship.
My dreams were a haunting whisper, but I clung to their principalities anyway.
Even asleep I felt my whole self fortifying once more. Self-preservation at all costs. Walls. Protection.
In the corner of my mind, obviously reserved for the fabled "sort of love", I wondered what these walls would cost me, as if by some stroke of luck I had another choice. But the wondering was useless and answer quite simple and familiar – the cost would be everything. And I would pay it.
I would pay it.
I would.
But, I do, my heart screamed.
Yes, well, that would be the cost, my mind countered.
This battle of wills played on through the night, as steadfast arms held me, until the morning crashed in and pulled the life vest away.
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A/N: I would truly, honestly, absolutely appreciate hearing your thoughts on this update and the over all progression of Girls and Boys. Which character's do you connect with, who do you still need more information on to understand? Is there and Outtake you're dying for? Sometimes these question, as well as countless others, take over my thoughts and make me wonder endlessly what you all think. I have so many readers (cause you guys are amazing) who have G&B on alert but I don't receive feedback from more than 1-10% of you - lots to wonder about indeed. I want to be that writer who doesn't write for reviews, but I guess after a particularly hard chapter all an author really wants to know is how it came off and how to go farther, write better – for you. :)
I don't know if I'd be motivated to push through if I didn't have those of you who are so dedicated and encouraging every single update! When I write, I think of what you request and enjoy and try to fit it all in. I really do appreciate every single one of you to an insurmountable degree! Special acknowledgment must be paid to Hollibell who single handedly pulled me out of my writers funk by beginning G&B this last week and leaving me her thoughts as she read. Seriously, thank you!
Until next chapter and with love, RAE
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OUTTAKE from G&B Chapter 22 Roses Are Red
Lavender's Blue
A/N: Twilight belongs to SM.
The chapter song, Your Guardian Angel by The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus, can be found on the profile.
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Roses are red
Lavender's blue
If you will have me
I will have you
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EPOV
Without question, I was now a man who understood what it meant to be undone.
All traces of my trademark pride and self-conscious concern only survived in the realization that the priceless gift outstretched beneath me - absorbing my weight, accepting my intrusion - was finally all for me. I would give for her, touch, breath, live every second of this time fulfilling my promise to show Bella just how incomparably I could please her, how uniquely I would treasure her.
With that in mind - and knowing Bella's first truly vulnerable moment of tonight would be best experienced laying back in warm blankets – I'd abandoned my generic and seedy dance floor fantasy. Stockings, shoes, over-fucking-rated. But I had needed her naked - completely - to feel her skin all over mine. Such a task proved itself to be too easy.
Now, as my erection settled between her slightly parted legs and magnetized itself to her wet heat, my tongue began inside her mouth what it was about to venture downward and unleash for the first time. Bella's first time. My first as well … mmm. And the fully formed thought of tasting her had me sliding down her body while my mental focus raced off in a million separate directions.
The contrast between our bodies was maddening. Everything I came in contact with that belonged to this petite woman shorted out my calm and lit a fury of need in the pit of my stomach. I could feel the weight of her heavy lids - stormy brown eyes searing into mine from underneath a flutter of eyelashes - emanating urgency. The lower I traveled the better I was assaulted by the scent of her bouquet. The satin of her alabaster skin was so tender beneath the calluses of my relentless, ivory striking fingers and slippery against my own hairless flat chest and stomach. How vastly, remarkably, intoxicatingly different we were. Rough, smooth. Big, small. Worst, best.
I cupped a palm around each inner thigh and spread Bella open before me, my eyes rolling slightly back as her undiluted fragrance crashed over me and so much pink and wet and just Bella invited me in.
My tongue was primal in its attempt to taste and delight and revel. I couldn't even fully grasp what was happening before my name was tumbling from Bella's other lips and my voice found its own way to express how fucking amazing it was to be the one here with her, owner to the name she cried out in ecstasy, plunging my fingers into her entrance and burring my nose in warm paradise. My mind wasn't inspiring these actions; no, consuming Bella for all she was worth – well, not actually a fraction of her worth, but doing it well and good – was instinctual, practiced, old hat per se. But I loved her and the caressing ministrations and raw hunger urging me to burrow deeper, drawing from the erotic reality it wasn't anyone else and it was her first time, was insurmountable.
Peering up at her, all my thoughts zeroed in on the message transcribed on my girl's face. She was enjoying me so much – perhaps not quite as much as I was currently enjoying her, but the pleasure apparent in her eyes and the way she'd begun grinding her sex into my fingers and face sent a cocky grin straight to my lips and a rush of blood to my straining cock. I still have so much left to show you, love.
So, I rethought my objective and kissed her. I'd missed her mouth, crazy as it sounds. Plus, I'd seen her cum on my fingers before, and though that sight would never get old I had a more serious dilemma raging below. I needed to be inside her.
I pulled her above me, knowing full well the sight of Bella sliding down my shaft for the first time ever, before flipping her over and making love to her, would be the supreme moment of my life - second only to hearing her genuine utterance of 'I love you' one day.
Bella straddled me tightly around the waist as she sought out the friction she so needed. Her breasts were heaving slightly, strands of her hair curling around the perfect peeks accentuating her pebbled nipples. Somehow her blush had crept down between the valley there and my eyes followed the path it made over her collarbones, up her long neck and bursting across her cheeks.
"When your cheeks blush red it's my favorite." And there wasn't a truer statement, though I'd never seen her so effected before. I can't say it insulted me.
I was about to pull Bella up, effectively positioning her for landing when she escaped my grasp and sucked the head of my dick right between her pouty lips. I had no desire, or ability, to rip my gaze from the disappearing act unfolding before my disbelieving eyes as more and more of my hardness was engulfed by her hot little mouth. But I couldn't actually say little, could I, being that she had the majority of my good fella all the way in, fucking hitting the back of her throat without so much as a sharp intake of breath, gag or even the customarily brief panicked expression. Bella was superb and blowing my motherfucking mind and cock simultaneously.
My thoughts continued to shout out the incoherencies I refused to let pass my lips, knowing they were in no way void of the vulgarity I'd often associated with forgotten fucks. Past, present. I'd go to heaven before I refused to refrain from all forms of dirty talk with the pretty good girl hollowing her cheeks for my pleasure. But that verbose display would come when I could take her hard, when our lovemaking could stretch the boundaries of gentle and sweet. Fast, slow. Tonight, I didn't want there to be any doubt as to my feelings, my intentions. I loved my Bella. And, god, she was so damn good at this.
"Love … shit … that feels incredible. No one's ever taken me so deeply." This mouth is mine, my inner monologue growled.
Our eyes locked as she quickly pulled back successfully unleashing the animal within me at her words. "No one's ever taken me period."
Last, first.
All.
Everything.
Fuck.
"Fuck." Without delay, I had her on her back, my tongue lapping into action between her legs - as images of my virgin Bella taking me to the hilt scrambled my mind - and my fingers outfitted a condom one handedly while the other reached out to connect with every part of her it could find.
Our bodies aligned in every way as I guided myself into her, dying for this painful part to be through and the pleasure to carry my girl away, with only me beside her. Inside her.
Below me, around me, Bella was beauty reincarnate, her eyes alight and lip clenched tight between her teeth, as I pushed with just enough force to make it beyond her barrier. So beautiful. I kissed her lips and cradled her neck, hating myself for the pain but growing in devotion towards her as my first steps in marking her as mine were underway.
Undone for you. New for you. All for you, my Isabella.
I was straining to patiently refrain from motion when I felt her hips rise up, adjusting carefully, and gradually her pelvis brushed against mine.
And then I was. Inside.
There could be no diminishing the sheer magnitude of this act, not for a lifetime, and I was doing my best to invite her to revel in the enormity with me. But my fucking world spun on its axis, submerged in the moment of absolute contact and I could feel the tears prick.
A smooth motherfucker plays tears off as an allergic reaction or the occasional wind induced hazard of a stray something or other blowing into their eye – given that he is somewhere wind would make for a viable excuse.
But "smooth" was escaping me as my eyes began to fill up and I just couldn't manage to give a damn.
So this was undone.
Me together with Bella …. completely complete.
This was Edward Cullen losing himself forever and finding his self evermore in her.
God. My love seemed to pour out as I moved over her, kissing her forehead and tangling my free hand in the hair at the base of her neck, thanking all the fucking stars that no one would ever know what a whipped effer I'd become and failed to worry over.
"This isn't fucking, Edward." No, Bella, this is love. I was a trembling, crying fool, but in that I wasn't alone.
"I know it isn't, I know." She felt so amazing, so tight, untainted, made to be stretched and worshiped and taught by me. If I had to drag around my former life's shit forever just to be able to be what she needed in this moment, lead her in this way, fuck it – I could do that. Just as long as she would always be this near.
"I don't know … I'm … I don't know. I think I'm scared." God, baby, me too. I wanted her to accept my understanding, no matter how minute.
"I've never made love to anyone before either; I'm scared too." Her wide eyes didn't relax; instead they darted to mine and prodded, seeking specific answers. I only had one. I love you.
"Edward, it's not the same thing."
Perhaps it was the tender shifting I was inflicting on both of us, as I pulled out and pushed back almost languidly, while I attempted to quell the urge to explode. I could have cum many different times already if I'd only stopped to think of our explicit actions, of my finally filling Bella. But my love was what consumed me now, seeping out quickly, dying to be unfurled; my voice would no doubt escape soon. She needs to know.
Compulsory, voluntary.
"For me it is, Bella. The person I am now is new and only for you." Her gaze was sparkling and her long, smooth legs tightening around me more with each syllable. My pace quickened as her tears ran into her hair. I love you …"I love you, Bella."
And I didn't regret my words, no matter if we were having sex. She needed to feel this in all its brilliant honesty.
"I love you, too. I do." But it had been there in her responding smile where she'd told me first.
I had been wrong; this was being inside. This was being undone. This felt like arriving, as if I'd finally found the right answer.
"I do," she whispered once more into my shoulder, where my own tears had cascaded, as I wrapped an arm fully around her and leveraged myself with the other using the headboard, finally bringing us home.
"Edward." I knew she could feel the depth I was exploring within her and the friction of my pubic bone grazing her clit at the convergence of this angle.
"Bella." Pulsing around me, beating our very own melody, Bella rocked my resolve as her walls pulled me farther in, just begging me to join her.
So I did.
Lost, found.
I remained inside her as I transitioned us under the covers, finally discarding the mess before pulling her into me.
Her embrace overtook my consciousness. Her love engulfed my doubt.
My whole heart now belonged to this girl - as far as verbal declarations solidified it for her, because I'd known this to be true for a long time already. What more she'd accept was to be seen.
But, whatever the future held, Isabella Marie Swan loved me today. Everything told me so, including her words.
End, beginning.
I couldn't help but marvel over how much more there was for us. Endlessly us. Complete in our polar differences.
And I vowed, as my thoughts turned over into dreams, that as long as she would have me I would be having all of her.
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A/N: Edward is such a sap. So in love. I just hope that on top of his ability to love fiercely he is also able to remain strong. Thank you for reading!~RAE