It was hard to doubt her place in this world when facing an angel.
Even though he vehemently denied it, she stuck to her very first guess, that he was indeed an angel. Still she remembered his velvety voice, clear and deep. She remembered his kind eyes and the fine line of his mouth. She was so detemermind that he was sent to get her, almost a dissapointment for someone who does not believe in any kind of gods.
How could he not be?
His heart was true, kind and full of compassion.
Without saying a word, she pulled him into the hut and she was relieved that he did not resist.
Her fingers touched his skin and immediately a familiar feeling spread through her body. Touch had always been special for her, it could be tender and gentle or hard and demanding.
Carlisle could be all of that, in his own way, altough he would never take something, she wasn't willing to give. And she was willing. He had the gift to express so much with a simlpe caress of her skin. Everything else had changed, he looked a little different, her vision had improved dramatically and now he didn't seem quite so unreal to her.
Of course he was still beautiful, that hadn't changed at all. Carlisle was still the most beautiful person she had ever seen and she was sure that he was easily in the top 5 among vampires as well.
His voice sounded different too, her improved hearing no longer heard it as a siren song but more normal. She still felt the joyful nervousness rise inside her when he said or whispered her name. His scent was the same, but she could smell so many other things, so the scent didn't stand out as much anymore.
The one sense that hadn't changed much was the one that was most easily overlooked.
Agonizingly slow, her index finger ran along his forearm. The skin felt velvety and warm, her body temperature was the same now, and his skin was no longer the unyielding marble to her. She felt a tremor, and didn't know if it was coming from him or from her.
She had always been excited when she could touch him.
She still remembered the examinations as his then cold hands carefully palpated the swollen and injured flesh. She remembered the jolts of electricity the touches triggered inside her and her gratitude that there were no more devices attached to her.
It wasn't long before he returned her touch. Hesitantly and cautiously, as if he needed to make sure she was here, for one thing, and because he was simply a gentleman.
He would always give her the chance to pull away. As if she would ever want that.
His restraint never lasted long and his touches became a little more demanding, as if he needed more, more of her skin, more of her. The words she couldn't utter stay in her fingers, she traced his muscles, his lines and edges, and each time she was amazed anew at how the touch never lost its thrill. She has loved before, but it didn't felt like this. She kissed and made love before, but it never consumed her like this. It wasn't the change, it was him. It had been always him.
All doubts were momentarily wiped away and it was hard not to believe in fate when running over the pale skin of Carlisle Cullen.
It wasn't long before she fell backwards onto the bed.
Greedily, she pulled him with her, not that he would resist. He was above her and stopped, briefly Lily was afraid he would resume his real quest to speak to her, but when she saw his hungry gaze sliding along her body, she breathed a sigh of relief.
He smiled to her and it was as innocent as it was seductive. His white teeth flashed out and his mouth looked even more inviting.
Lily couldn't resist reaching for him, greedily roaming her hands along his torso. His muscles underneath were hard, not like a statue of Achilles, but hard enough to hold on to. With a loud rip, the expensive fabric separating his body from her touch disappeared and Carlisle bent down to her ear.
His breath was warm and his voice rough, as if he needed all his strength not to lose control. He whispered words of love, of confidence, and Lily wanted nothing more than to believe them. It was these moments that made her forget everything and she wanted just that.
She wanted to forget and just be.
With him.
Forever.
An arm snaked under her body and stroked along her back. She closed her eyes lost in pleasure and pressed herself against his body. His lips found her neck and kissed it, carefully, inch by inch. When he got to her scar, he stopped.
The skin was still more sensitive than the rest, but Lily was pleased to find that she now enjoyed being touched by him there. The pain of the transformation was not forgotten, how could it be, but it was covered by something far better - pleasure.
Her thoughts blurred, in her mind was only him, his scent, his touch, his lips, his voice, he was everywhere. How was he still in control while she was falling apart?
But as her hands ran along his naked back, breath lingering in his body, she knew he was as screwed up as she was. A deep rumble came from his throat, wild and untamed. It was a side he didn't often show, a side Lily loved so much. She knew he perceived it as a weakness to lose control, but Lily thought it added to his perfection. Was it strange to find perfection in a flaw?
When the expensive clothes Alice had chosen disappeared from her body, Lily could no longer say, nor did she know who had gotten rid of it.
Her body adapted to his, as if they were two pieces of a puzzle that had finally found each other. Lily's hands got lost in his hair and he moaned loudly. Lily did the same, his hair was still so soft, so delicate as if it were the greatest sin to touch it.
Fortunately for her, Lily was not a believer.
His eyes were black and full of emotion, it was so easy to get lost in them and Lily couldn't help but guide his head to hers. Greedily she tasted his lips and moaned when he responded with no less passion. Just now, as she tasted him, she realised, she was starving.
It was like she just had to touch his body, like he was a lifeline and she was drowning. His hands were everywhere, demanding and panicking, touching every patch of skin she had.
His breathing quickened, greedily drawing in the air he didn't need, and Lily realized she was doing the same. His scent, his closeness, his body, his movements, it was all too much and yet not enough.
Would it ever be enough?
Would she ever get tired of it?
The thought almost scared her as she was sure, that even if in a thousand years of time when she forgot her own name, she would still remember his touch, his smell and his kiss.
She couldn't imagine it, she felt too much, enjoyed it too much. When his hand finally found hers and his fingers wrapped desperately around hers, his body unable to find a rhythm that was enough and Lily pressed her face into the crook of his neck, she knew there was nothing that would ever be better.
No blood in the world, no adventure, no fight could compare to this.
"I love you...so much." His voice was still rough and she could hear the lust in it, the desperation, as if he needed to make sure she believed him. It wasn't necessary, Lily could feel the love, in his every touch. She knew he wanted her, she knew he needed to feel her. She knew the feeling all too well, because she felt the same. She wasn't perfect, her flaws were worse than anyone else's but in this moment, with him, she was complete. He completed her, in so many ways. Lily always was homesick for a place, a feeling, and looked for it. She found a part of it in Alex, but now she finally found it in Carlisle. Someone who loved her, regardless of her sins.
"I love you, Carlisle."
His smile was so honest, so sincere, it made her eyes burn. Nothing had ever been more beautiful, and nothing ever would be. The chasm in her soul, the pain of losing Alex, her humanity, her transformation had surprisingly become bearable. She would see the world, but she would not do it alone. After all the drama, the sacrifice, it would be ok to be a bit selfish.
Surely the Cullen family could stay out of trouble for a few decades.
Or so she thought.
