Chapter 10

Bella couldn’t stop staring at the king-sized bed.

She wasn’t sure how long she’d been frozen to the spot, studying the modern leaf design woven into its sumptuous silk comforter and matching pillow shams. The bed was big, beautiful and imposing, not unlike a couple of other things she’d encountered already this evening.

She couldn’t figure out why the sight of it made her anxious. She hadn’t changed her mind about losing her virginity in this very bed, to the troubled man standing out in the hall with the Enforcer. He made her feel many contrary things, but fear wasn’t one of them. She didn’t understand how he could make her so nervous, yet calm and reassured at the same time. That didn’t make sense. She only knew that no matter what Emmett implied, she trusted Edward, more than she had any other guy before him.

That didn’t make any sense, either. Mike Newton had been the picture of trust-worthiness, following her around like a harmless, hopeful puppy the minute she’d moved to Forks at the age of sixteen. And Jake had been her best friend all summer, right up until their pact had taken such an ugly turn. She was still angry with him for that. She was more angry with herself for missing his friendship after the whole thing blew up in her face. She should have known that trying to bring sex into the equation would ruin everything, one way or another.

But this, with Edward, was the opposite. This was about nothing but sex, no matter what else she was beginning to feel for him. He’d made that crystal clear the minute she attempted to get to know him better. She would be foolish to believe that he felt anything for her in return, no matter what he said or how he looked at her just now, before he called the Enforcer. She had paid him well to treat her like she was special, she kept reminding herself. All he had been trying to do when he abruptly ended their game of Twenty Questions was remind her what their reality was. No misunderstandings would come into play as long as they both knew what they were here for.

And he was right - it was better this way, she reasoned. She’d been friends with both Mike and Jake first, and look how that had turned out. The less she knew or cared about Edward Cullen, the better.

She frowned at the cool silk adorning the dark-framed bed. It needed warmth.

She slipped back into the living room to retrieve some of the candles Edward had set strategically around the suite. After a few trips, she had rearranged them artfully throughout the bedroom. She smiled at the soft, exotic glow they created as they tossed flickering shadows on the walls and draperies. This was better. This was a suitable backdrop for the attempt to make losing her virginity an epic event, or at least a memorable one. It certainly beat the hell out of the back seat of Jake’s ancient rebuilt VW Rabbit.

Outside the suite, Edward ran his fingers nervously through his hair and took a deep breath while Emmett retreated down the hall. This was it. He was about to sleep with his first virgin. The tension that wracked his body made him feel like he was the one who was about to lose something he’d never be able to get back.

He called her name softly as he opened the door, but was met with silence. He searched the kitchen, dining and living areas, but they were empty. Maybe she was in the bathroom again. She was probably ten times more nervous than he was.

The bathroom had two entrances: one near the suite’s foyer, and one to an oversized sunken bathtub that connected to the bedroom. He knocked on the former before trying the door; it opened easily to darkness. That meant Bella was waiting for him in the bedroom.

He let out a ragged breath, then used the facilities himself before going to meet her. He shook his head at his own reflection as he washed his hands, then splashed some cold water on his face. What the hell was his problem? He’d slept with countless women before her. Young, not-so-young, not young at all. There was no type of female, and no type of sexual proclivity, that he hadn’t encountered before.

Except for the Bella type of female. A virgin.

His own first time had been with a slightly older, more experienced girl. His second time had been, too; and every time after that. He had been no one’s first. No one’s eternal, irrevocable memory of their first sexual encounter. He didn’t count the boys Bella had fooled around with before him, or even the manual and oral sex he’d performed on her already. He knew this would be different. At least, it would be for her. And for him too, if he was being honest.

“Stop being such a pussy,” he hissed under his breath to his glowering reflection in the mirror. “You act like you’re the virgin here. Man up and go take care of business.”

He’d given himself similar pep-talks in the past when required, but not quite like this one. They were usually to talk himself into things he really didn’t feel like doing. This time he was pumping himself up for something he wanted far too much.

He said her name again as he slowly opened the door to the bedroom.

“Bella?”

Her skin raised in goose bumps at the sound. She was sitting at the foot of the bed, waiting. She’d been staring at one of the candles on the dresser until it had burned multiple golden spots into her retinas. When she looked up at Edward, his face was illuminated by a halo of phantom flames. She smiled at the illusion. Her sun god was still glorious long after night had fallen.

She looked so small to him, sitting there on the oversized bed. Vulnerable. Her eyes were two black spots of ink, dotted with the reflection of the candles she’d brought into the room. He couldn’t read her expression, even when he came closer. Her gaze was remarkably placid, if expectant. How could she be so sure? Why was he the one who felt like a wreck?

He sat down next to her and turned to study her. Her breathing quickened, the first sign that she might not be as calm as she appeared on the surface. Their eyes began a conversation, asking and granting permission in turn. When he parted his lips to speak, her mouth mimicked his, opening, waiting.

“The candles look nice,” he said, his voice rough. He cleared it with a quiet cough.

“Yeah. Thanks for bringing them.”

He didn’t want to tell her that he always brought candles. He didn’t want to tell her a lot of things, but he found himself talking anyway.

“Are you sure you want to do this now?” He reached out and touched his fingertips to the dark silk growing from her temple. “We could watch a movie first. Or finish our game. I promise to answer all your questions without flying off the handle.”

“I might take you up on that. Later,” she answered. Her hand crept up to touch the soft terry opening of his bathrobe, then slid inside. She located his heart within seconds, pressing her hot fingers against its rapid beat. His own breathing matched the pace of hers now. His hand drifted down from her hair to the side of her face, caressing her warm skin. He couldn’t stop staring at her eyes, so trusting, so willing. So ready.

She looked up at him curiously. He seemed to be as nervous as she was, maybe more so - yet another thing about this evening that didn’t make any sense.

“Your heart is beating so fast,” she said, her eyes questioning him. “You aren’t a virgin too, are you?” she added with a laugh.

His face cracked with that slightly crooked grin of his. “No, not like you think. But the truth is, I’ve never done this before, either.”

Her forehead scrunched in confusion. “What . . . ?” she began, shaking her head.

“I’ve never taken anyone’s virginity,” he explained. He felt somewhat relieved now that he had confessed this one truth to her, but she looked more confused than ever.

“Never? Not even when you were younger?” She had a hard time imagining such a thing - that he had only been with experienced girls.

“Never,” he reiterated. His hand still stroked the side of her face, his fingers gently massaging her scalp through thick strands of hair. She couldn’t seem to move her palm from his chest, too enamored with the feel of his heart thumping persistently under its surface.

“So I guess this is a first for both of us,” she said, a pleased grin slowly lifting the corners of her mouth.

“I guess it is,” he agreed softly.

Their faces were close now, neither of them knowing how they got there. They inhaled each other’s air in shallow breaths. His thumb traced her plump bottom lip and his eyes followed. He knew that once he kissed her, he would not stop. Nothing would stop him until he had found ecstasy inside this bewildering, remarkable girl.

But what would she find once she let him in?

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he told her. His whisper was barely audible.

She was floored by the emotion on his face, his blue-green eyes as watery and fathomless as the Sound. He had to feel something for her - something more than just perfunctory concern. If he didn’t, then he deserved an Academy Award.

She felt herself melting under his gaze, his touch, just as she had earlier when he’d studied her under the glare of the setting sun. She knew her common sense was dissolving with the rest of her senses. She didn’t care if it was foolish to want him this much, this stranger who knew how to reach her most intimate places with so little effort. If she was a fool, then she might as well rush in, angels be damned. For all appearances, the man looking at her so intently right now might be Gabriel himself.

“You won’t hurt me,” she told him, surprised at the volition in her voice. She gave him a small smile and added, “At least not for long.”

His lopsided grin made a brief appearance. “Are you going to hold me to that?” he questioned, knowing it was a promise he couldn’t make.

“I’d rather just hold you,” she said.

He let out a short laugh even though her expression was earnest. His own was dead sober by the time his lips reached hers. Her mouth opened immediately, inviting him to taste and explore, then returning the favor. Merging lips were followed by limbs, their bodies craving more contact. Robes fell open as skin sought skin, heat kindled fire, want fostered need. Their torsos were soon pressed together in desperation, hands grasping at one another’s flesh under thick swaths of terry cloth while they fell back on the cool silk comforter together.

He softly moaned something that sounded like her name as he rolled on top of her, relishing the feel of her beneath him, her legs and arms tangled with his. He kissed her hungrily, clutching her hair between greedy fingers and pressing her into the bed.

She loved his weight upon her, hot and hard and soft and deliciously crushing. Her hands groped his shoulders, then his back, while her legs parted to draw him in. Their bodies had already begun a sensuous dance together, finding that primordial motion designed to join them in a sexual rhythm as old as time itself.

Edward raised himself up on his hands long enough to shrug one arm, then the other, out of his robe and push it aside. She held her own arms out so that he could peel off the oversized terry sleeves and free her as well. They made noises of triumph at being able to clutch each other close without impediment, and they sealed their victory with a deep kiss.

He didn’t know why he was surprised at her eagerness as she wrapped her limbs around him, matching his every kiss and caress with one of her own. He was even more shocked when she managed to maneuver him onto his back and straddle him, covering his chest with kisses and grinding her hips against his. She certainly didn’t seem like a girl who’d been reticent about sex in the past. He liked thinking that he was the first, the only man who could bring her to act on her desires; that she was so attracted to him, any hesitation was obliterated in the heat of the moment.

He was high on that power as she writhed over him, moaning softly in between kisses. She had discovered her own feminine rhythm, rocking atop his body and teasing his rigid cock with the slick flesh between her legs. All it would take now was just the right movement, the slightest repositioning, for her to take him inside.

Bella seemed to sense his thoughts, for she slowed and arched her back, pushing back against the head of his straining erection. The tip easily found her creamy opening, lodging itself there.

Their eyes locked; their breath caught. Edward’s hands positioned themselves on her hips, fingers splayed over her round cheeks. He held her steady and gently lifted his pelvis, pushing his swollen head into her wetness until it was enveloped in her hot flesh.

She gasped at the pressure of his thick cock demanding entrance. He persisted until the tip was fully inside her, and then, after a moment, he pulled back. As soon as she let out a shaky breath and took another, he did it again, pushing a little further this time, clutching her ass tightly in his fingers so that she couldn’t pull away. She bit her lip and gripped his shoulders at the discomfort, but she refused to make a sound. This was what she wanted - what she’d come here for. She wasn’t backing out now.

She concentrated on the look in his eyes instead - a strange mixture of lust and . . . wonder? Awe? She couldn’t quite name it. But it was intense and unrelenting, just like the motion of his hips, slowly but insistently shoving his dick more deeply inside her with the rhythmic precision of a metronome.

He felt nearly mad with desire as he looked up into the startled face she made with every one of his gentle thrusts. He was hurting her, he knew, but she was stoic. He could see her grim determination to literally ride this out to its conclusion. But there was something else in her eyes that did the opposite of dampening his enthusiasm. Her dark gaze held the promise of something much more than mere endurance of his member drilling its way inside her. She had wanted to get rid of her virginity for a specific reason, and he nearly laughed at how simple and obvious that reason should have been to him.

Bella Swan loved sex.

Maybe not now, at this particular moment, while her body struggled to make the necessary adjustments in order for her to enjoy it. But she had watched videos of it, and fantasized about it, and agonized over not having it because she was dying to experience it for herself.

Bella was a girl riddled with deep passions seeking the proper outlet. She had fought them over and over tonight, attacking him with fervor before she remembered to be nervous or ashamed of her desires. He knew that she would be seized by those desires again, after the nuisance of inexperience came to an end. As he carefully invaded her body by inches, he could clearly foresee the day when she would be able to easily let him in and ride him with wild abandon, not stopping until they were both fulfilled.

He closed his eyes for a moment to enjoy the vision. He groaned and thrust upward one last time, forgetting to be careful and driving himself inside her to the hilt. Their skin made a soft smacking noise at the point of impact.

She cried out sharply, and his eyes flew open. “Are you okay?” he asked anxiously, releasing her backside to cradle her head and stroke her hair.

She nodded, afraid that opening her mouth would let a whimper escape. She felt impaled. Her entire groin radiated with a dull, throbbing ache. She couldn’t quite call it pain, though. It simply felt . . . alien. Or at the very least, highly uncomfortable. His cock felt as big as the monoliths she’d compared it to earlier, her body stretched and conformed around it like a glob of Play-Dough stuck over a bed post.

She concentrated on slowing her breathing and relaxing, just like he had instructed her to do earlier. She just needed to get used to the sensation - the overfull feeling and pressure of something embedded so deeply inside her. But as she looked down into Edward’s beautiful face, staring up at her with an emotion she couldn’t identify, she’d never been more sure that she had chosen the right man to let in.

“Do you have any idea how good you feel?” His whispered question was rhetorical. He knew that he was enjoying this far more than she was. She was so tight that he almost felt uncomfortable himself, his cock strangled in the grip of her rigid walls. Yet she was so warm and wet, so utterly ready for this . . . even if she hadn’t quite figured it out yet.

He tried to remember the last time he’d experienced being inside a woman without a condom separating them. He wasn’t sure he ever had. He usually enforced an ironclad policy of safe sex, armed with a battalion of prophylactics and medical documents. Bella had infected him with her recklessness once more, but at least he was sure that was the only thing he’d catch from her.

Still, he could let this go no further without procuring one of the latex shields he’d already deposited in the nightstand at the head of the bed. Her safety was paramount to him, and he’d already taken too big a risk by letting nature run its course.

“Let’s pull the bed covers down and do this right, shall we?” he suggested, running his hands lightly down her back. He shifted his hips downward, slowly pulling out of her. She sighed in relief as he exited her body.

He rolled her gently off of him and sat up, kissing her several times before he stood and made his way around the bed. She watched him, somewhat dazed, as he turned the silk comforter and expensive sheets down, then removed the pillows from their shams. He came back to the foot of the bed and took her hands in his, pulling her to her feet.

“You take good care of me,” she said, her eyes strangely grateful as she gazed up at him.

“Why wouldn’t I?” he responded. Why wouldn’t any man? She was worth caring for. He wondered at the guys she’d tried to be with before him - why they couldn’t see how special she was. He’d spent time with more females than he could count, but he could list on one hand the number who had made a lasting impression on him.

She had no answer. He’d rendered her dumbstruck once more with his matter-of-fact assertion of her worth.

His hands still enveloping hers, he led her around to the head of the bed, then kissed her. He let go of her hands only to wrap his arms around her, pulling her closer, deepening the kiss. He was sweet and romantic, yet insistent and commanding, a combination she had no hope of resisting.

They were soon a tangle of limbs again under the sheets, their bodies reunited in one mutual desire. She succumbed easily to gentle hands roaming, wet lips teasing, hot skin pressing. He was everywhere at once, it seemed, and she was delirious from the possession. She found herself flattened beneath him once more, spread open and waiting. Wanting. She was ready to let him penetrate her again; ready for him to make her feel his desire, deep inside.

He moaned softly at the feel of her pushing against him, lifting her hips to meet his. It would be better this time, he knew. He leaned toward the edge of the bed, opening the nightstand drawer and grabbing a foil wrapper from within. She observed while he deftly ripped the packet open and withdrew the ring of latex. He positioned it at the tip of his erection, then rolled it down with a few sure, swift movements. He had sheathed himself one-handedly in less than thirty seconds. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, trying to turn off the part of her brain that wondered how many times he’d done this, and with how many other women, in order to gain such impressive dexterity in handling condoms.

He mistook her slight grimace for trepidation. “Relax, Bella. It’ll be better now that you know what to expect.” He planted several soft kisses on her pink cheeks as he sidled between her thighs. “I’m going to make this good for you,” he said, determined to follow through on that promise.

She nodded her consent and her confidence. “I know you will.”

He reached between her legs and stroked the sensitive flesh there, massaging her until she moaned at the sensation. Her sounds encouraged him, and he positioned himself to enter her once more. He continued to stimulate her with his fingers, spreading her moisture as he worked. Then he grasped his cock and guided it up and down her pussy, wetting it with every stroke.

Her eyes closed, this time in pleasure, and another moan escaped her. He couldn’t wait any longer. He slipped the head inside her pink and ready opening, then continued pushing even after he met resistance. She cried out softly, so he withdrew slightly before pushing once more. He lifted himself slightly so he could reach between their bodies and massage her clitoris, enhancing her pleasure to counter the discomfort of his thrusts.

He worked this way until he was all the way in, rocking gently inside her until she joined his rhythm.

“That’s better, isn’t it?” he asked hopefully, fairly sure of her response.

She nodded before gasping a quick “Yes,” and gripping his neck and shoulders more tightly. She still felt impaled, filled to the point of bursting, but the pain of stretching to accommodate him had begun to ebb. It was nearly forgotten when he slid his hand between them and stroked her again, giving her waves of tingling ecstasy that all but erased the ache.

She almost didn’t notice him picking up his pace, slowly thrusting and pulling back, then thrusting again. Her own body was rising to meet each of his movements, matching them, inviting them. It seemed to know what it was doing. She tried to shut off her brain entirely and allow her body to ride the waves of sensation, good gradually outweighing bad, as they mounted and swirled within her.

“Christ, you feel so fucking good,” Edward rasped, interrupting her self-absorbed concentration. She looked up into dark, fevered eyes under lids heavy with lust; cherry red lips, parted and panting; smooth skin and rough stubble beaded with perspiration. She was shocked at his beauty once more, now painted in a picture of sensuality that was stunning to behold. She reached up to touch him, to finger the droplets of sweat and trace those delectable lips.

He slowed his pace, trying to read her; waiting for her response. When she realized what he required, she said simply, “Don’t stop.”

Her whispered words sounded like a prayer to him. He couldn’t have stopped anyway, but he needed to know that she wanted the same thing. Her face was etched with an intensity that he hoped was more pleasure than pain as he pumped in and out of her with increasing speed. She was perfection. He felt like he was molding her flesh to fit him and only him; leaving the indelible impression of his cock within her, branding her as his.

He knew these mad thoughts of ownership were not only sexist but utterly futile. Thankfully his hormones had dispatched his intellect with swift and total authority for the time being. Now was about only flesh and bone merging, taking and giving. He could not hope to match what Bella was giving him right now, but he had to try.

He reached down and rapidly fondled her clit once more, trying to pleasure her as well as himself. She moaned her approval and her hands gripped his hair more tightly, urging him on. Maybe he could make her come. Maybe it wouldn’t be impossible.

But he knew it would soon be impossible for him to hold back. She was too snug a fit; the friction between them was too intense. He wanted to come. He wanted to come right now. It was all he could do to stop it. He thought of baseball statistics, mortgage payments, world famine. Anything but the beautiful girl lying beneath him, raising her hips to take every inch of his cock, again and again and again.

“Fuck,” he growled in frustration. He removed his hand from her, placing it on the mattress to give himself leverage. He ground into her helplessly, hoping that the rhythmic slap of his groin against hers would be enough to stimulate her. She gasped and whimpered with every thrust, which only spurred him on. He couldn’t stop now. He wouldn’t stop fucking her until he came.

Bella was overwhelmed. She didn’t know what she felt anymore. The line between pleasure and pain had been obliterated by Edward’s ceaseless movements; the line between her body and his was now blurred beyond recognition. Her insides churned and burned with an uneasy fire, stoked by the ramming cock that repeatedly shook her. She could feel the possibility of an orgasm building; the beginning of a pyre that might grow if she could dampen that last twinge of pain and fan the flames of growing pleasure.

She let go of his damp hair and slid her hands south, over his perfect round ass. She gripped his cheeks firmly in her hands, guiding him into her, though he needed no help in that regard. He groaned loudly at the feel of her fingers clutching him, then pounded into her with quick, desperate strokes.

“Oh, baby, I can’t . . .” he began, his voice breaking. “I can’t hold back much longer.”

“Then don’t,” she ordered.

“But I want you to . . .”

“Don’t worry about me. I want you to come. I want to feel you come inside me.”

That was the truth. She had never expected to orgasm during her first time. She didn’t need to. She knew that she would one day, and that reassurance was more than enough for her.

“Bella,” he said, his tone laced with regret.

She was the one who looked at him in wonder now. He would never know how deeply it touched her that he was trying so hard to be perfect for her, instead of giving in to his own needs. She wanted him to let himself feel that release. To find ecstasy inside her.

“Edward," she whispered. "Let go."

And with a shuddering gasp, he obeyed.