Beta'd by cejsmom and preread by Twi-mom12292005
Banner by AnaFluttersby
You all know who owns these characters. No copyright infringement intended.
Dogward/Brokenward/Virginward/Beachward/Preciousward/Insecureward
or as someone have called him "Adorably Virginal"
and Patientella
Chapter 46
EPOV
My day starts off good and it just keeps getting better. First I have the meeting about the purchase of Victoria's property, which is funny as hell. I arrive after she's signed her portion of the paperwork, when she sees me and is told the whole story about my corporation being the buyer, she is livid. I can't keep the smile from my face and that just incenses her even more. She actually takes a swing at me, open handed, but she still attempts to hit me. I see it coming and duck, not exactly duck, more like move to the side. Her face is beet red and she's yelling some bullshit while her people drag her out the door.
I take everyone out for lunch to celebrate, and then I meet with the architect. He gives me the preliminary plans for the property, which I love. I can't wait to show Bella and get her input, but I don't want to scare her. You know, too much too soon.
The welcome I get from Bella and the dogs would have been enough to make my day spectacular, but no, I have a spontaneous idea to eat dessert off of Bella while she's laid out on the kitchen island. Not necessarily a fantasy of mine, but damn, that is the hottest thing I've ever done. And tasty too!
That brings me to this moment. Bella, kneeling in front of me and taking my needy cock out of my boxers. I never thought I would ever be in this position, literally, especially in the bright lights of the kitchen. Maybe in my wildest fantasy it might happen in a darkened room, but not like this. I have a moment of fear, hesitation, but it's Bella, she gets me. I know she won't do anything I'm uncomfortable with, although this is right at the line.
The sight of her in this position, her hands touching me, her lips, her tongue. I have to grip the counter behind me to remain standing, it's that intense. I watch her, savoring every lick and touch. When she looks at me with those beautiful, innocent, sexy eyes I think I must be dreaming. How can this be happening to me? How can I be this lucky?
She encourages me to thrust into her mouth, she even places my hands on the back of her head, her eyes pleading for me to understand. I'm hesitant. How can she be enjoying this? Having this much control is not normal for me. The desire to thrust with abandon is there, it's primal. I have to keep in control, but I try to do what she wants. It does add another level of intensity, heightens the pleasure.
I'm steadily heading towards my release. The sensations of her tongue on the underside of my cock, her warm mouth sucking me in, her hands, watching her. I'm close, that tingling feeling spreading throughout my body, but I keep it at bay. Does she want me to come in her mouth? Do I warn her? But I can't form a complete thought, let alone verbalize it. I hold off, barely, hanging by a thread. Then she hums around my cock, sending a wave of pleasure throughout my body. Unexpectedly, she fondles my balls. It's too much. I lose all sense of time and place, of reality. My body takes over, instincts take over. I'm lost in the pleasure of my release, barely aware of what I'm doing.
My eyes are still closed, my head lolled back when she kisses her way up my torso. My arms wrap around her, before I even open my eyes. She always feels so good, so right, in my arms. I'm putty, goo.
She kisses my chest, says she going to shower and she's gone. I haven't moved from my leaning position against the counter, the edge digging into my back. Gathering the strength to move, I go to the living room, pick a movie and plop on the sofa, remote in hand. A very clean and damp Bella joins me, and we snuggle together and proceed to fall asleep during the movie. We are becoming a boring couple, but it's perfect.
~MEB~
"What are you looking at?" I ran thirty minutes on the treadmill, showered and come into the living room to find Bella sitting on the sofa, what looks like photo albums spread out on the coffee table.
"This is some of the stuff I got from my dad's. Come look," she says patting the spot next to her on the sofa.
"This was my first birthday," she goes through the albums, pointing out photos that are of important milestones in her life, from when her parents were still married. Her parents look so young compared to the photos I saw at her house. They've both aged well, but aged nonetheless. Her mother's face is thinner, more lined now. Her father's a little pudgy and graying at the temples.
"What do you think of these?" She asks pointing out photos of when she was about five or six and playing in what she tells me is her backyard. Her father still lives in the house she grew up in.
"You were so cute. Still are," I give her a quick kiss and refocus on the photos. "I like this one," I point to a photo of Bella standing on a rope swing that looks to be hanging from a huge tree near the edge of the forest. "You look so carefree with your toothless smile and bright eyes with just a touch of mischievousness. Were you a bit mischievous, little Bella?" I ask tickling her side and making her laugh, almost nervously.
"I was a typical kid. I listened most of the time, behaved in school. I would get into things every now and then. I'm sure my parents would tell you differently, but I was a good kid." She shrugs, takes the photo out of the album and hands it to me.
"You mentioned my eyes in the photo," she starts. Look at them again. Do you think that this child is capable of intentionally hurting someone?"
I shake my head. The child in the picture is innocent, a child, my Bella.
"What if I told you that this child ruined lives, a whole family?" She continues.
I just shake my head and study the face of the child, the child who is now the woman I love.
"But she did, or thought she did. She blamed herself for years for irreparably changing a family."
"What do you mean?" I ask my eyes meeting her watery ones.
"My mother left us shortly after these photos were taken. She left me. She said it was her, her fault, but I heard them talking when they thought I wasn't listening. She left because of me; the pressure of living in a small town, the monotony and responsibility of taking care of a child, a house. Her leaving left a void in me, a void I filled with self-loathing, cynicism and blame. My dad was supportive and loving, but devastated. He never blamed me for her leaving, but I knew, without me, she might still be there with him." Her tears fall freely down her cheeks, causing me to tear up for this child, this innocent child, who blamed herself for something completely out of her contro... oh crap.
My eyes shoot to hers. She knows. She understands, but how?
She tentatively reaches for something under the photo album and hands it to me. I gasp. My eyes are drawn to the photo, the boy in the photo. "Where did you get this?" I croak, my throat thick with emotion.
"Your mom. She has photos and stuff from before you came to live with them."
I nod, I didn't know she had things from my previous life. I try to put that aside and focus on the photo again.
"Look at him, Edward, the boy. Look at his eyes. What do you see?" She gently prods.
"He's happy, the same innocence as you at this age."
"Is he capable of hurting someone?"
"No, but it happened anyway," I defend, my eyes unwillingly overflow with built up tears, tears that weren't shed when they should have been.
"And my parents got divorced, leaving my dad alone to care for me."
"That's not your fault, that's between your parents," he starts.
"And the accident was the result of a drunk driver. You weren't driving either car or being reckless. You were a victim as much as your parents."
I shake my head. Not true, I could have helped them.
"Even if I had been the perfect child I couldn't have saved their marriage. It has taken me a long time to get to this place, where I don't feel the blame. I went to therapy as a teenager, talked to my dad, made peace with my mom. You were the final piece of my healing, Edward. You made me believe in love, the kind of love they write songs about. I didn't think it existed. That it was only for the gullible and stupid. But it does exist I feel it here with you." Her shaking hands cup my face, guiding it to hers. She kisses me sweetly. The tears from both of our eyes making it taste salty.
"Edward. The accident would have happened whether or not you were in the car or strapped into the seat. You were a child." She grabs my hand, holding the photo and brings it up for me to see. "He was an innocent child. He couldn't have saved his parents. It was an accident, a horrible accident."
She grabs the photo of little Bella and holds it next to the photo of me. "These children are not to blame. They were children, innocent, happy children."
I stare at the boy in the photo, a photo that I remember being taken shortly before the accident. I feel a crack a fisure, it hurts, like something is opening that's been closed for a long time. My heart aches, but feels lighter. I feel something, something I've never felt; empathy, understanding. I'm not sure, but it's there. I look at him differently, the boy, a new perspective, an opening to heal.
She straddles my lap and I hug her to me. So thankful for this woman, for this chance, for my life. I silently cry into her hair as she cries into my shirt. We cling to each other tightly for what seems like a long time. When our tears subside she lifts her head and looks at me. "Are you okay?"
"I hate to cry, but I guess it was overdue," I shrug rubbing my hands over my tear stained face. "Thank you for loving me, and for caring enough to try and help me."
"Did I help?" She asks with obvious concern.
"I think so. I have a lot of undoing to do, but for the first time I see the boy from the accident, me, in a different light. I can see how this might not be his fault after all. I was never able to see that before."
She nods. "I had to try. You don't see yourself like the rest of us do. I wanted you to see how special and wonderful you were and are."
"You bring out the best in me. I never thought a relationship with a woman was something I deserved, in fact happiness was never something I thought I deserved. I've always tried to do the right thing, what was expected of me. I thought that was going to be the extent of my happiness; my family, friends, the dogs. Now, I see you there, in my future."
She weaves her fingers through my hair, her nails gently scraping my scalp. "You are my future too, Edward. And it's a very bright, happy one." She kisses me like she means it.
A/N
Did Bella do good? So Esme gave her a photo of little Edward.
I did not write a chapter, so I couldn't reply to reviews from the last chapter... sorry :/ I'm off today, so I will write and answer reviews this update.
Thanks so much for your ongoing support and entertaining reviews :)
Disclaimer- I did do some research about therapeutic techniques for PTSD and Survivors Guilt. I implemented some of what I read, with some creative license.