Twilight belongs to SM. This is mine.
The angst is coming. Bear with me. Let them enjoy their cloud just a bit longer. But for those of you who want immediate angstification... (yes, I made that up)... go read When You Close Your Eyes. It hits you hard and fast. It's on my profile. As for this... we'll hear from Bella this chapter. So, I'll let you get to it...
Chapter Three: Clouds
Edward
"Stop pouting, Edward."
"I am not pouting."
"No? Then what do you call it?"
"I don't know. What's a manly word for pouting?"
"There isn't one," she laughs, "It's just pouting. And it's for girls."
"Are you calling me a girl, Mrs. Cullen?"
"Certainly not, Mr. Cullen. My husband is all man."
"You're damn right he is."
"I know."
"You should, but I don't have a problem showing you. Why don't you come over here?"
"Because I'm already dressed. And if I come over there, I won't stay that way."
"Not for a second."
"Which is why I'm not coming over there."
"But you're leaving me. Don't I at least deserve a proper goodbye?"
"I'm only leaving you for a few hours. And I already gave you a proper Good morning an hour ago."
"There was nothing proper about that good morning, sweetheart. I'm pretty sure Emily Post is still rolling over and over and over in her grave."
"Shame on me!" she scolds, jutting her ass towards me and giving it a hard smack.
Shame on you is right, you evil little tease... "I think that was a far too gentle punishment... Bring that naughty little ass over here so I can give it what it deserves."
"Sorry... but I'm going to have to disobey that order. Time for this naughty girl to go to work."
"You do know that will just get you an even harder punishment later?"
"I do," she pouts, and then smiles like the Cheshire Cat.
I really fucking love my wife...
And she knows it. "Now come and give me a kiss goodbye, Mr. Smitten. I really need to go."
I jump up from where I've been lounging on the bed watching her move about getting ready and step into my shoes. "I'm taking you to work today. And picking you up."
"And why is that?"
"Well, first of all, because it's the last day of school, and I know your students will lavish you with goodbye presents. I can help you carry them all and load them up."
"That's very sweet of you. And second?"
"Second, so I can make sure you don't run away with some smooth talking little punk that declares his undying love for you out of desperation at not seeing you for a few months."
"A smooth talking little punk first grader?"
"Yes."
"You're shameless."
"And you have a weakness for shortstops. Some of those little leaguers in your class have mad skills."
"And they all worship the ground you walk on. I'm pretty sure none of them will try to steal your wife from you."
"Don't put it past them," I tell her, pulling her into my arms and brushing her lips with a gentle kiss. "But I'll be there to pick you up, just in case."
"As you wish, dear," she murmurs against my mouth, "But just know... " she brings her hands to my face, "there's nothing... " runs her tongue across my top lip, "and no one... " and the bottom, "that could ever make me leave you," before pulling it into her mouth and sucking longingly as she pushes herself against me. "Those little leaguers aren't the only ones worshiping at your feet."
"That's good to know, sweetheart," I sigh, knowing this can go no further now, but that she wishes it could as much as I do. "And I expect to see you do just that the moment I bring you home."
"Part of my harder punishment?" she asks, followed by a masochistic smile that makes my cock throb painfully.
"No... " I smirk, pulling her hand from my face and rubbing it over my painfully throbbing cock, "... just my way of ensuring I give you the best present today."
"Now that's how you smooth talk a girl, Mr. Cullen." She squeezes, a wistful moan escaping her lips, "And we both know at that, you are the master."
I really fucking love my wife...
…
FBoFW
…
Bella
"The kids sure do love him."
"Yeah... " I say, turning my adoring gaze from my husband, to give Principal Weber a guilty smile. "Sorry, I know he creates chaos when he comes here."
"Don't apologize, Bella. Most of the parents pick up on the last day, and as you can see, most of them are just as enthralled as their children." He laughs and shakes his head, "Though I'm not sure who's more enthralled... the kids, the dads, or the moms."
"Actually, Bill... " I sigh, "it's me."
At that exact moment, Edward looks up from his crowd of adoring fans, young and old, and smiles at me. And that smile is so full of tenderness... so full of love... and so full of heart-stopping awe, that it makes my knees tremble and my breath catch.
"Are you sure about that?" he asks with a laugh, as Edward makes his way to us, devotion pouring from every part of him.
"I'm sure about everything."
"You ready, beautiful?" Edward asks, grasping my hand in his.
I nod and give it a squeeze. "Have a great summer, Bill. See you in September."
"You too, Bella. Both of you."
And as we walk away hand in hand, smiles on our faces at the months of togetherness that wait for us, "Go Mariners!" rings out behind us.
And my smile gets wider... because as rewarding as my job is, nothing gives me greater joy than making my husband feel loved, adored, and admired.
And gets wider still when he opens my door, and leans in close once I'm settled in my seat, his own stretching from ear to ear as he looks at me... because he knows.
…
FBoFW
…
He opens the heavy front door and I step inside, but I only get a step further before he grabs me, shutting it behind him and leaning against it. "It's my turn."
"Your turn for what?"
"To be the center of your world."
"You're always the center of my world."
"But you can't always show me."
My poor baby... "Awww... Have I been neglecting you?"
He smiles, because the answer to that is an unequivocal Hell no, but not the one he gives me. "Yes. You've been horribly neglecting me."
"Well, I'm so very sorry about that. I'll have to make that up to you, won't I?"
"Yes, you will."
I know exactly what he wants, and I'd never deny him, but since we're playing a game...
"I'll have to think about this a bit. I'm not sure what I could do... how I could possibly even begin to right my horrible wrongs against you... "
"School's out, Mrs. Cullen. No more thinking."
"Not even about you?"
"No. And no more talking, either."
He drops one arm from around me, and pops the button on his jeans, his stunning green eyes dark with need.
I smile sweetly and make to zip my lips, just as he slides his own zipper down.
"Oh no, sweetheart... I want it wide open."
I do as he wants, and open it wide, and do my best to keep it that way - and not laugh - when an arrogant smirk forms on his mouth and he forces it wider.
And arrogant or not, when his fingers move into my hair and grasp the back of my head and he forces me to look down, I know he's probably not too far off in his calculations of how wide open it needs to be. He certainly has a mouthful in his hand...
My mouthful.
His beautiful, thick, delectable-looking cock that he wants me to adore.
Right here. Right now.
So I drop to my knees on the cool, hard marble floor of our foyer.
And it makes him smile as he gazes down at me.
And his smile makes me wait, because I know that's what he wants now...
Acknowledgement.
Willingness.
And want.
Mine matching his.
Thirst...
And patience.
And I will be...
Patient.
Though I know my eyes plead.
Beg...
Not too long, please?
And he smirks sexily at that.
And I lick my lips as he strokes himself...
Once...
Twice...
"Ah, ah, ah..." he scolds, "I said open."
I swallow hard, my mouth watering profusely, and open it again, as wide as I can.
"Good girl," he praises.
His hand is still cupping the back of my head, and he pulls it closer to him.
I grip his legs, because I know this game... I know where he wants my hands.
And my lips...
"Kisses," he orders.
I pepper loving kisses up and down his muscular legs as I hold them like a treasure in my hands. They tremble slightly under my light touch and adoring mouth, and I feel him brace himself more firmly against the door.
Edward likes sweet, which in all things sexual, was what I was when I gave myself to him...
I was a virgin when we met. He loved that about me. Loved it so much that he didn't try to change it.
Edward Cullen, superstar and playboy extraordinaire, didn't once try to convince me to give my innocence to him.
He was patient. Understanding. Respectful and proud...
Until our wedding night, when he took what would only ever be his with tenderness and love.
He was sweet. He was gentle. And he made me feel adored.
He made me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.
He made me feel like the most loved woman in existence.
He made me feel, in ways I didn't know were possible.
Ways I couldn't have dreamed of.
And I was grateful. And wanted to make him feel as loved as he made me.
Wanted to make him feel as good.
I'd heard stories... rumors...
Edward had been with many women... I knew this.
He was said to be wild and uninhibited...
But it's not how he treated me in the beginning. And I took my cues from him.
I touched him gently. I kissed him sweetly. I wanted him to feel the love in my lips on his skin. And I know that he did. And I know how much he loved it.
Things changed, of course...
Grew...
Blossomed...
I learned new ways to please him...
New ways that he loved...
Less gentler ways...
Less sweet...
He wasn't shy. Wasn't ever afraid to ask me for something. Wasn't ever hesitant to tell me what he wanted or needed...
And he did.
But he never tired of the sweet.
Never tired of the adoration I showed him.
And even though this game we're playing now is not headed for a sweet place...
He still wanted it... for a moment. From me, his wife that he told me was the only woman to ever show him such. The only woman he ever wanted it from.
But now that moment has passed...
His fingers twist in my hair. Pull...
My gaze to his.
My mouth back to open and waiting.
Pooling with my need to taste him. Please him. In any way he wants.
He brushes my top lip with the wet, glistening tip of his cock.
I want to lick it, but don't. Not my lip... not his cock... not until he says...
He strokes it again, one slow stroke up his undoubtedly impressive length, though it's all I've ever known...
And paints my bottom lip with a gentle, teasing stroke of wet silk.
I still don't move, but I can't help the whimper of want that escapes my throat through my open and waiting mouth.
He smiles proudly and pulls my head just a bit closer. Closer, but not close enough. My tongue could reach him if I dared to let it, but my damp-with-him parted lips are still too far away. And I pray for not much longer...
I want to taste him so desperately that it hurts.
And he knows it. "Just one," he says, warning me.
I lick him slowly from my top lip, wanting more, but returning my mouth to the way he wants it.
"Well, maybe two... " he relents.
I greedily pull my bottom lip into my mouth, sucking every trace of him from it like my life depends on it.
It makes him chuckle.
And finally have mercy on me.
Before he doesn't.
"You want something to suck on, sweetheart?"
And now I break my silence, because I know he wants to hear my want. "Yes. But not something... you. Only you."
"Only me, what?"
How stupid of me... "Only you, PLEASE?"
And thankfully, graciously, he doesn't torment me with a time-wasting spoken reply. He puts the tip of his cock between my lips, but no further, and tells me to suck.
And suck I do, like a woman dying of thirst who's been given a life-saving gift of drink. And with that desperation, I forget my manners, and who's in charge of this little game, and grip his legs tightly, trying to pull him deeper into my mouth.
He lets me... bestows me a few inches of his delicious cock that I want to devour, but his tangled grip in my hair doesn't loosen. In fact, it tightens, and is joined by his other hand, which has now released him fully to my hungry mouth.
His breathing gets heavy as I guide him slowly back and forth between my adoring lips, my tongue twisting and twirling over every smooth, silky inch it can reach, every bit of him it can taste.
I love my husband. I love every part of him...
And I will never get tired of showing him how much.
I will never get my fill of the taste of him.
I will never not crave him...
His lips...
His chiseled jaw...
And his work-of-art cock in my mouth, which is somewhere he - so luckily for me - loves it to be.
He loves my hunger for him. Loves my willingness. And loves that he doesn't have to be sweet.
I'll give him anything he wants. And let him take the same. Give him control...
Like he does now as he thrusts in and out of my mouth.
I can't move... and don't try to. Wouldn't dare...
His hands are relentless in my hair...
Pulling. Pulling me...
Pushing. His cock...
Deeper. Harder.
He fucks my mouth without inhibition. Without worry. And without a trace of gentleness.
Because he can. And because sometimes it's what he needs.
And because he knows I'll give him anything.
It was never a question...
He only wanted me to show him...
That he is the center of my world.
And I know he knows he is...
As he spills himself into my mouth...
Fills it...
Generously...
Unrelenting...
And proud.
He pulls it from me slowly, inch by glistening inch, running it down my chin and throat, before letting it fall. "Show me," he orders softly.
I look up at him with pride of my own at being able to give him what he needs and open my mouth. He gently strokes my hair with one hand as he moves the other under my chin, tilting it up slightly, his thumb brushing across my bottom lip, as his labored breaths accompany his words, singing a song of wonder and contentment. "You're so fucking beautiful, Bella."
This is something else he loves. Seeing my mouth full of him. His pleasure. His gift.
It is a gift to me. Precious...
And always beautiful to him.
And also like always, he wants me to accept it. Every last drop. "Show me," he orders again.
And I swallow - and it takes more than one - never taking my eyes from his, though his are now on my throat, fascinated...
I smile, and wait for my last order, which comes in a hoarse breath, "Show me."
I open my mouth one last time, empty this time... to show him how good I am, and then whisper the words I know he wants to hear, or a variation of them, as I slide his jeans and boxers back up and tuck him gently inside. "Thank you for letting me love you so much, and giving me so much more."
It's the 'thank you' that he wanted, but it's what I added that makes his eyes go from "Good girl" to the "Fuck, I love my wife" expression I so often see in them.
And as he pulls me from my knees and lifts me into his again-gentle hold, I answer his unspoken declaration with soft words whispered into his neck. "She loves you too."
"I'll be forever grateful for that," he whispers back, sweeping me up and carrying me towards the staircase, "but I'm afraid she doesn't know."
Oh... she knows...
And so does he...
But I'll be damned if I don't let him show me.
Because one more thing Edward loves...
Is saying You're welcome.
Fuck, I love my husband...
…
FBoFW
…
Edward
She looks so peaceful lying there...
I hate to wake her. Well... wake her again...
Because my trooper of a wife is exhausted.
I'm not sorry for that... Fucking hell...
I'll never be sorry... or ever forget... but I should let her rest.
Let whatever is putting the sweet smile on her beautiful face as she sleeps keep putting it there.
I'm confident I have something to do with it...
Like her still-swollen mouth and flushed skin.
And as happy as I am about that...
And as much as I'd love to stand here all day and look at her perfection...
I have to go to the damn team meeting.
And neither of us has ever left the house without saying goodbye.
Never left the other sleeping.
She knows about the meeting...
But if she wakes and I'm not here...
No. I won't do it to her.
I sweep her hair from her face and place a tender kiss in the crook of her neck, my tongue slipping out to taste the salty sheen that still covered her as she drifted back to sleep.
A soft moan vibrates in her throat, followed by a delicate, sleepy whisper... "Edward... "
My name is so sweet on her lips that I'm tempted to settle back into this bed with her and never leave. I'd like nothing more in this moment than to hold her in my arms and feel her heartbeat against mine...
But I can't. "Bella... I'm leaving, sweetheart."
A frown forms on her lips, replacing the smile that she wore a moment ago.
I hate that I'm the one that took it away. It's getting harder to leave her by the second, and I swear if she opens her eyes...
"Kisses," she murmurs, puckering her mouth, her eyes still closed.
Harder by the second...
I smother her face with them, making her giggle, and the sound making my heart melt. And that makes it even harder to leave her. Like when my lips finally reach hers, and she grabs my face to hold me there, ghosting her closed mouth over mine... teasing me with sweetness, her eyes fluttering open...
I've never struggled so much to walk away from my wife. Something is telling me not to. My heart is telling me not to... This is the center of your world. It's her. You don't need more. Stay with her.
But it's not what comes from her sweet mouth. "See you soon. I love you." Because she's never asked me to stay. She wouldn't...
She'd never ask me to give anything up for her. Because she loves me too much.
"I love you too, baby. See you soon."
I feel like I'm doing something wrong as I turn and walk away. But when I glance back to look at her one more time, the smile is back on her face. And I know I've put it there this time, because her eyes are still open and settled adoringly on me. Adoringly and tired...
"Go back to sleep, beautiful. You still have a few hours. And it will be hotel beds for the next three nights, so enjoy our cloud while you can."
"Good idea," she smiles, and reaches for my pillow. She wraps her arms around it and buries her face in it, inhaling deeply, before gazing back at me. "Our cloud is perfect."
"So are you... "
She blows me a kiss and I leave the bedroom, and her, with heavy legs. I wish I understood why. Why it's so hard to leave her...
It's just a meeting. And she'll be with me wherever I go for the next few months... right by my side...
We're going to have a great summer...
I have everything.
So why do I feel such a suffocating sense of dread?
Thunder cracks hard through the silence, as if in some answer that I don't understand. I look up at the house once I pull my Vanquish around to the drive, and at that moment, the sky opens up in a sudden and violent downpour.
Bella loves the rain...
And thinks ground-shaking thunder is sexy...
And I wonder if she'll sleep now, in our perfect cloud.
Our perfect cloud so different than the ones I'm under as I pull down the long drive and away from her.
See you soon...
xx
Do you feel that? *shivers*
And I just wanted to mention, before anyone else does... I know that the students' last day is not the teachers'. But it's fiction, babes, and I just don't care.