And Yet They Shine
Chapter Four
Honest
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Isabella sat with her toes digging in to the warm, dark sand. As her feet tunneled deeper, the sand became warmer and she found herself seeking it out until she was up to her ankles in the stuff. Edward kept his arms around her, and he was so still it might have been furniture holding her, instead of a man. The water swirled around them in a soft gurgle, and she brought her arms up around the neck of the mysterious stranger, the beautiful man, the god, and rested her head against his shoulder.
"I wished to find the one who would love me and let me love him, who would be my king, and see me as his queen."
Her words, said to another man, repeated in her head. Her golden suitor, her first love, so handsome and boyish, had looked so broken when she spoke. The words were born of her heart, and they'd lived there, roots tangling deep around the pulsing, throbbing thing, until at times she felt as though it was strangling, her heart, on the words of her wish.
She wanted that feeling to stop.
Edward held her and stroked a hand across her hair. It was a small thing, a comforting thing, and she wondered again if she could bend herself to love him. The space inside of her that the other had claimed grew smaller each day. For the last year she'd felt that she couldn't breathe and she needed oxygen to keep the burn alive. And yet…and yet her body still burned with the memory of his hands on her, light and languid by the bright of the moon, and always warm, always burning.
She felt Edward's arms tighten, his body growing stiff beneath her, and so she clutched him tighter, twisting until she found comfort again.
Edward was not warm like that. His touch did not scald her skin but it lit a fire within her, nonetheless. What she felt was not desire so much as compulsion. She needed to take his hand. She needed to follow him. She needed to know his secrets. She didn't care about the cost.
Again he stiffened and she pulled away to look at him. His eyes were impossibly dark in shadows and his skin gleamed, almost pearlescent. He looked angry, or frightened, and she reached to stroke her hand across his cheek, to soothe the furrow in his brow with her thumb.
He seemed to ease then, to soften under her touch and she looked at him, curiosity naked on her face.
"You like it when I touch you?" she asked, though it was not a question.
He hummed under his breath and the urge struck her, lightening quick, to take his mouth with her own, to kiss him there, fast, hard.
He pulled away from her with a gasp and searched her face. She studied his mouth, his lips now parted, and she imagined it was sweet inside, cherries or maybe wine. Before she could finish the thought his mouth was next to hers and she felt, she tasted, his breath against her tongue. She arched a little in his grasp, her body already pressed against his. Would it be like the other, she wondered. Would their mouths taste the same, feel the same? She took a deep breath and steeled herself. Would it make her sad, the touch of someone else?
She watched his mouth hover next to hers before she let her eyes close. She would try, she thought. If she didn't like it, she could always stop. He'd already offered to send her home so many times, it would be a simple thing to say yes.
But the kiss didn't come, and before she could exhale she found herself standing on the loose earth, struggling for balance. Edward held her by her arms, waiting for her to acclimate. She looked at him, again curious. He'd wanted it too, hadn't he? Wasn't that what this was about?
He looked down at her. "We should get going." He held his hand out for her as she climbed back on to the little boat. She watched the water with a wary eye.
"Don't worry," he said. "You're fine. I won't let you get wet."
He extended his arm and Isabella clung to it. It was not the comfort and safety of his embrace, and for the first time since they began their descent, fear crept at the edges of her skin. Thoughts of turning back swam to the surface of her mind again, but he banished them by pulling her close, tight to his chest. She turned into his embrace, her face pressing hard against the silk of his shirt.
Edward stroked a hand down her back and then eased her away so that he could peer into her eyes. His voice was still whiskey rough, but lacked the brown sugar sweet when he spoke: "We've been traveling for a long time, pet. I wonder if perhaps you aren't hungry?"
He gave her a canted half-smile, and she shivered in the dark.
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A/N: My heart's thanks to Krismom and FarDareisMai2. They beta and hand-hold, and offer all manner of lovely gifts of self. I honestly wouldn't be writing if not for the early and constant encouragement of these two fine people.
Thank you, again, to those of you still reading, and those of you who have recently started. I appreciate your readership, and your kind comments, so very much.
I started a new collection of o/s titled "Venice Beach Stories." The first story is posted and features a skateboarding Edward and a fairly confident Bella. AH and kind of smutty. If you give it a read, I hope you enjoy!