The first rays of dawn filtered in through the blinds of Edward’s bedroom windows, painting the bed in bars of dusky gold. The comforter’s classic brocade weave glinted in shades of deep burgundy, the color of a fine wine - his favorite. Bella’s arms tightened around his warm body in the tangle of ivory sheets beneath their crimson cover. She breathed in the scent of his skin and the bedding he slept in, holding it in her lungs a moment before exhaling. How on earth could she go back to her empty matchstick dorm bed after this?
She’d think about that tomorrow. She was Scarlet O’Hara now, living in the moment, enjoying the here and now. She memorized the way the beams of light played over Edward’s features, augmenting the long, feathered shadows his eyelashes cast over his cheeks. She wished she could capture the image on her camera phone, but it was hanging in her backpack near the kitchen door. Better yet, she imagined how beautiful a pencil or charcoal rendering of him would be, though she was sure her own meager talents could never do him justice.
So she drank in the softly snoring work of art next to her on the pillow, absorbing each nuance, wondering if she would ever be saturated, ever have enough.
She already knew the answer. She could never get enough of him. She knew it the minute he pulled out of her last night and spilled his seed all over her, apologizing for the mess afterward, not understanding how much she loved it. How could he still think she wanted only his perfection? How was it that he didn’t realize she loved every self-imagined flaw about him?
But no, he insisted they shower afterward. Clean up the mess; wash off every drop of sperm and sweat and saliva, every grain of sand and sea salt that evidenced the gritty beauty of their day together. They brushed away their garlic breath and gave each other fresh kisses before falling into a soap-scented sleep. She wondered what happened to the guy who had insisted on kissing her despite their morning breath just two short weeks ago. She pressed her face into his shoulder until she could glean his scent through that of the dissipating shower gel, and there she found her happiness.
She luxuriated in it now. The drowsy remnants of slumber still held her captive in Edward’s arms. She could find no will to move, unless it was to draw closer to him. They had both awakened often during the night, smiling at the sight of one another, relishing the feel of each other’s warmth before falling into blissful unconsciousness again.
Bella thought she might drift off again were it not for the enticing picture he painted in the morning light. She didn’t want to close her eyes again and miss a moment of his breathing. She could feel each puff of air lightly on her face, each rise of his chest against her arm. This was heaven, pure and simple. She could think of nothing better than this, except for the way he made love to her. There were no words to describe the place he took her - the person he made her. She was different with him in the way she’d always dreamed of: confident, open, free.
She thought maybe she did the same for him. She hoped so, anyway.
He had not moved for ten minutes, at least. He seemed to be in a deep sleep despite the sun’s increasingly bold attempts at waking him. Bella finally tore her eyes from his face and began to look around the room, its details slowly making themselves known in the muted dawn. Aside from the sturdy, well-oiled furniture, there were paintings adorning the walls and photographs atop the dresser. The artwork resembled the tiny “bookmark” that Edward had yet to reclaim from her dorm room, and she assumed the water-color renderings of the Sound and surrounding landscapes were the work of his late mother. She could discern Elizabeth’s likeness in the photographs, too, along with the two Edwards in her life. Bella was itching to go take a closer look at those snippets of Edward’s past.
Gingerly, ever-so-carefully, she inched away from him under the covers. He grumbled a little and reached out in his sleep, grabbing the comforter and pulling it closer when she eluded his grasp. Her heart swelled at the gesture. She was amazed at the ache she felt as she slid out of the warm spot into the cool sheets at the edge of the bed. The hardwood floor was cold under her bare feet when they touched down.
She looked around for something to wear, but her clothes were still strewn with Edward’s all over the bedroom floor. She noticed his t-shirt had landed on the only chair in the room, so she grabbed it, shaking it out slightly before pulling it over her head. Yesterday’s beachy, musky scent still clung to it, and she wrapped her arms around her middle, pulling the soft cotton close to her body.
She padded quietly around the room, studying the landscape paintings first. Sure enough, each sported the familiar “E. Masen” signature in the lower right-hand corner. His mother had quite a talent, capturing her subject matter in dreamy washes of color with a few spare details added later in dry brush for definition. Bella had always had trouble using water color paints, and she admired the technique she saw before her.
She ended her jaunt at the dresser, gazing at Edward’s photos one by one. There were several of him as a child with his parents. She grinned in recognition at the tow-headed boy with bright blue eyes and a mischievous smirk reminiscent of the one he often gave her now.
And then there were the adolescent years, the photos portraying a gangly teen with over-large features and haunted eyes - the eyes of someone who had lost too much, too soon. But more recent pictures showed a younger version of the man she knew now: serious but confident, seated purposefully at an enormous upright piano in the now-empty corner of the living room downstairs.
Alice was in some of the pictures, ebullient and spiky-haired, the free-wheeling counterpoint to her cousin’s natural containment. Edward’s grin was broader when he stood next to her, as if the gravity of her own huge smile had pulled his wider.
But the photos that fascinated Bella the most were the ones of the two of them with their grandmother.
Bella wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t the tiny woman anchoring dainty Alice and lanky Edward in every picture. Emily Cullen couldn’t have been much more than five feet tall, yet she still appeared to be the pillar of strength between her giddy granddaughter and melancholic grandson. Stalwart and robust, she was a compact, golden-haired powerhouse with a sturdy frame and no-nonsense expression. She had the sympathetic, yet slightly steely look of someone who had weathered many a storm. There was fierce pride in her face as she clutched her grandchildren to her. Emily was clearly the glue that held the remnants of her family together in a tight, protective bond.
Bella suddenly had a much better grasp of how overwhelming it must have been when that glue began to dissolve.
She turned to look at Edward once more; to study his handsome features furrowed in sleep. She let out a gasp of surprise when she found him propped up on a pillow against the headboard, watching her.
“You’re awake,” she blurted, her cheeks coloring like she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t.
“The bed was cold,” he said, his honey tone masking the mild accusation.
“I’m sorry,” she said, not sure why she was apologizing. Her feet began carrying her back to his side without any conscious decision on her part. She crawled atop the covers and into his waiting arms.
“I hope you don’t mind my snooping,” she said, still feeling a bit like a naughty child.
“Why would I mind?” he said, putting her worries to rest. He laid a gentle hand on her hair. “I brought you here because I wanted to show you everything.”
She gave him a relieved smile. “I like looking at pictures of you and your family. Your grandmother looks like an amazing woman. You can see the strength and determination in her face. And the love. It’s easy to see how much she loves you.”
Bella looked into Edward’s sleepy gaze and wondered if he could see the same thing in her own eyes.
He smiled, and his eyes crinkled at her in that way that made her think he saw everything.
“The feeling’s mutual,” he told her, and she knew she was right.
He combed his fingers languidly through her hair, then frowned a little. “Did you sleep okay?”
“I slept great,” she said, giving him a reassuring squeeze. “I think you’ve ruined me for my dorm bed forever.”
“I like having you in my bed.” He wanted to add a promise to make sure she was in it more often, but he couldn’t. Not yet. Not until he figured out a way to make it come true.
“Did you have fun yesterday?” he continued, not sure why he was asking, or why he felt uncertain about the answer. He hadn’t felt the need for anyone’s approval this much in a long time.
“Are you kidding? Yesterday was amazing. So was last night.” She felt her face grow warm at the memories.
His answering smile was just as warm and full of intimate secrets. “It was, wasn’t it? Perfect,” he whispered. His arm tightened around her, hand squeezing her shoulder. “But we can’t do that again.”
Her eyes widened in panic. “Do what?” She was terrified he would tell her she’d just experienced their first, and last, date off the Renaissance Escorts clock.
“Have unprotected sex,” he clarified. “There are too many risks.” He didn’t want to name them all. Surely he didn’t have to.
Bella sighed in relief. “I know. I get it. But I promise you, I’m not going to get pregnant. I’ll text you when my period starts tomorrow, if you want.”
“It’s not just that,” he reminded her. “I get tested all the time, and I’m always careful - except when I’m with you. You make me careless. You make me forget everything. Everything except this. Here. Now.”
His eyes were wistful, fingers longing as they combed through in the silky hair above her ear. She reached up and closed her hand around his.
“That’s because now is all we have. I never know when the next time will be.”
He nodded wearily, wanting to give her more. And then, his expression changed as inspiration struck.
“As I recall, you have a very big birthday coming up,” he remembered. “Do you have any special plans for that day?”
Bella’s face brightened as he hoped it would. “No. I told Charlie I’d go home to visit next weekend, but my birthday is the Tuesday after. Not a big party night.”
“Would you like to spend it with me?”
She rolled her eyes at his formality. “I’d love to spend it with you. Why would you even ask?”
“Because you might have plans with your friends, for all I know. Or that ex-boyfriend of yours - Mike? Is that his name? He looked like he’d be happy to give you a good birthday spanking.”
Bella’s mouth dropped open in shock. “Oh, please. Don’t even go there. Mike and I are just friends. Trust me, there will be no spankings of any kind going on with him.” She shuddered slightly at the thought.
Edward caught her grimace and zeroed in for the kill. “So, do you have a problem with spankings in general, or just from Mike? Because you’re not going to get off that easy if you spend your birthday with me.”
Bella’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t you dare even think about it.”
Edward’s grin turned mischievous. “Too late. I’ve already thought about it. Fantasized about it, many times. I am a full-service birthday specialist. Cake, candles, bad singing, toasts to the birthday girl, bare-ass spankings, and a pinch to grow an inch. If you say ‘yes’ to my date offer, then you’d better prepare yourself.”
They stared each other down for a moment. Bella was amazed at how shamefully hot she found the idea of Edward turning her over his knee. Edward was not at all amazed that Junior was twitching at the prospect.
Her right eyebrow arched infinitesimally before she gave him her answer.
“Yes.”
His grin was positively wicked now, and Bella’s heart began to race in anticipation. Sure enough, seconds later he’d managed to wrestle her face down over his lap, with the suggestion, “How about a sneak preview?”
She squealed and struggled against him to no avail, which only made her t-shirt ride up and expose her backside to his waiting hand. She felt his fingers close over her left cheek, giving it a squeeze.
“What a nice, round target you have,” he commented, smoothing one hand over the curve of her ass while the other pressed between her shoulder blades, pinning her torso to the bed covers over his thighs. She craned her neck to glare up at him, pushing half-heartedly against the bed with her arms.
“Resistance is futile,” he continued with a maddening smirk, stroking her bare buttocks in soothing circles. “Besides, I have the feeling you’re going to like it.”
She had no time for rebuttal. She heard the smack of his palm a split-second before the sting shot through her skin and traveled deep into her flesh. She manage to emit a single yelp of protest before she felt the broad side of his hand once more, reverberating straight to her genitals in astonishing tingles of desire.
“Stop!” she shrieked, not knowing why, because she didn’t necessarily want him to do any such thing. He ignored her anyway, chuckling maniacally as he gave her a series of lightning-quick slaps all over her cheeks until they smarted and burned and her pussy had grown inexplicably wet.
When Edward saw the pink flush of blood rising to the surface of her skin, he relented, smoothing his palm over her ass and bending down to nuzzle his face in her neck.
“We’re going to have so much fun on your birthday, Bella,” he whispered. “I can promise you that.”
“You are a twisted freak,” she mumbled through the tangle of her own hair as she turned her face to his.
“You love it,” he argued confidently, caressing her backside until he felt her arch into his hand. He slid his fingers slowly down the crevice between her buttocks, briefly exploring her back entrance before finding the slick opening beneath it. Gentle probing revealed the slippery evidence of her arousal, granting him easy entry. She moaned softly as his fingers delved deeper, seeking that special spot inside her that would make her come.
“I was right about you,” he whispered, half to himself, as he began to move his first two fingers in a languorous rhythm, pushing deeper inside. She whimpered softly, and he used his other hand to push the t-shirt up her back, exposing her ivory flesh so he could massage her back in time with the delving of his fingers.
“Right about what?” she gasped, grasping the comforter in her fingers and arching her back once more to meet his touch.
“That you love this. You were made for this.” He worked his fingers deeper before pulling out slightly and then plumbing her depths again. Her pussy made delicious smacking sounds that turned him on more than she could ever know, and he felt his dick harden beneath the covers, wanting in on the action.
“Made for what - finger fucking?” she retorted between heavy breaths.
He let out a soft chuckle. “Yes,” he agreed. “Finger fucking. All kinds of fucking. Sex,” he asserted, letting his free hand glide down her back to join the other. He slid one underneath her to stroke her clitoris, while the other plunged rhythmically inside her. “You love sex. That’s why you came to me in the first place.”
She scowled into the comforter, wanting to protest, but too caught up in the incredible sensations racking her abdomen. “I love sex with you,” she managed to say, turning her head sideways to get a peek at his beautiful body next to her. She reached back and pulled at the covers until his erection sprang free, his dick hard and pointing at her in proof of his own desires. She quickly grabbed it in her fist, yanking a bit roughly until he groaned. Then she worked her hand in time with his, stroking his cock from base to tip to match his fingers sliding in and out of her.
“And I love it with you,” he rasped, feeling himself lose control, sensing that the reckless beast within was about to take over once more. He began working her deep inside with short, rapid-fire strokes against the spongy flesh of her g-spot, and she cried out as her body tensed around him. She let go of his dick and clutched the comforter beneath her in both hands, her knuckles white as she panted and pushed back into his ruthless hand.
“Oh my God,” she exclaimed, moaning helplessly. How could something so rough and animalistic feel so good? His hand worked like a velvet jack-hammer inside her, a human vibrator sending her neurons firing in every direction until she was filled with electricity . . . snapping, crackling, building into an explosion of fireworks that burst all around him, her body quaking, muscles squeezing his hand with vice-like pressure in wave after wave of mind-blowing ecstasy.
He slowed the motion of his hand to a standstill as she came, amazed once more at the intensity of her orgasm. Her release was still the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. He wasn’t sure what turned him on more - the power he had over her pleasure, or perversely, the utter lack of control her surrender inevitably made him feel. All he knew was that her euphoria was his own. He smoothed her hair from her face as her breathing slowed and she turned to look up at him. Their eyes shared that strange knowing yet again - that language that transcended words. The realization of what they did to each other - what they were together - and how it changed forever who they were when they were apart.
Her gaze finally fell from his stunned face to the evidence of his unsated desire, bobbing and twitching on his belly as he slumped back against the headboard. Still drunk on endorphins, Bella slowly turned to face him. She stretched out on her side across his body, easing her hips onto the mattress next to him, reluctantly letting his magic hand exit her body. She raised her eyes to his as she leaned in and pressed her lips to the base of his erection. She watched his lungs fill with air at the sensation, then opened her mouth, letting her tongue tickle his rigid flesh. She languidly ran it up the ridge on the underside of his cock until she reached the sensitive tip, then swirled it slowly around the head as she grasped his shaft in one hand. His eyes rolled back slightly before closing, and a throaty moan escaped him. Bella’s mouth smiled in satisfaction before opening wide and taking in every inch of him she could manage.
She felt his hands in her hair immediately, reaching for the nape of her neck, his grip as gentle as the moans that vibrated his Adam’s apple. He did not guide her, but simply let his fingers rest there, lost in her tangled mane as she took the reins. He let her be the master of his pleasure once more, moving at her own pace, slowly stroking and exploring with her hands and mouth, sucking and licking and swallowing until he felt his hips begin to move in time with her, his fingers once again pressing into her scalp until she choked, her saliva running thick over his cock. He let go immediately, guilty over the intense pleasure that had given him.
But Bella only took a breath and did it once more, calming her gag reflex and swallowing him deep. His noises of appreciation spurred her to do it again, and again, until she gagged and was forced to release him.
She sat up a little and looked at him, firmly grasping his saliva-drenched cock and stroking it up and down while he shook his head in amazement.
“Baby, you don’t have to do that,” he told her.
“But you like it,” she pointed out. “If you like it, I like it.”
“And if you don’t, then I don’t,” he told her, placing his hands gently on either side of her face. “This is a two-way street. Remember that.”
She nodded, still working his wet erection in her hand. “I know something I’d like.”
“Name it.”
His face was open, ready. Waiting to fulfill her fantasy.
She raised herself up and swung one knee over his hips, straddling him. She rubbed her still-throbbing pussy against him, up and down, wetting them both, until his swollen head was lodged at her opening. And then, after she slowly lowered herself onto him, gasping as he stretched and filled her, she leaned in close and said one thing:
“I want you to come inside me.”
Edward’s groan was equal parts pleasure and exasperation, his eyes plaintive. “Anything but that.”
“No. Exactly that,” she insisted, pushing down with a small whimper until he was buried balls-deep inside her. “I can’t get pregnant right now. I’m clean, you’re clean - I trust you.”
“Don’t,” he shot back, his hands closing around her hips, ready to pull her off of him.
“I want to feel you come inside me like that first night, only better,” she continued, gripping his shoulders firmly and moving her groin slowly against his, letting him out a little before bearing down again. “I want you to explode inside me. I want to feel your cum, hot and wet, filling me up. I want every drop, deep inside.”
“Holy fuck,” he mumbled before her lips closed over his in a hungry kiss. He knew he should push her away, but how could he when it was the last thing he wanted to do? Instead he felt himself kissing her back, caressing her tongue with his own. His hands squeezed her hips, fingers splaying over her cheeks; his hips rose to meet hers, cock sinking gratefully into juicy flesh.
Bella murmured triumphantly into his mouth and pressed against him, hands traveling up his neck into his thick hair before releasing him. She grabbed at the t-shirt still covering her body and pulled it over her head, rising to her knees so her naked chest would assault Edward’s eyes the minute she was free. He reacted exactly as she knew he would, groaning and taking her breasts one by one in his mouth, his hands roaming up and down her body, no longer knowing where to rest.
Shivering from his touch, she lowered herself on him again and began building a rhythm, panting in time to the sensations of his cock burrowing deep within her. Each thrust still hurt and yet somehow didn’t, each welcome impalement forcing a whimper of pained pleasure from her throat.
Edward watched her dance atop him in a helpless ecstasy that bordered on agony. He knew he shouldn’t do this, but he craved it so much that stopping would be even worse. Unthinkable. Besides, the damage had already been done last night, his fevered mind reasoned. Might as well ride this out to its inexorable conclusion.
And ride they did, bodies coming together with escalating fervor, writhing and bucking until Bella grasped the headboard on either side of Edward’s shoulders to brace herself. His hands closed over her ass, holding her steady as their hips repeatedly rammed together. But the real intimacy was to be found further north, where shiny faces hovered mere inches apart, blurry-eyed and cherry-lipped, panting and moaning in unison, kissing and parting before kissing again.
Bella’s cries were soft and regular, keeping time with the increasing rhythm of their thrusts. But when they began to escalate in pitch and frequency, Edward knew with thrilling certainty that this was the moment he’d been waiting for. She was going to come. With his dick inside her. Fucking her. The elusive event he’d fantasized about since the night they met was at hand.
He let go of her hips so he could grasp her face instead, making her look at him. She knew what he was doing - knew how much this meant to him. To both of them. She locked her gaze with his and let go of the headboard, sinking her fingers into Edward’s hair instead as his cock drilled deep and sparked that delicious, slow burn within her.
He felt the pressure building inside him, the force gathering deep at the base of his groin. He tried to slow his rhythm, refusing to ruin this, to give in to the urge to come before she did. But her hips were relentless, fast and furious as she rode him, her body carrying her to the edge of that cliff, ready to take the plunge. He gritted his teeth and furrowed his brow, trying to concentrate on anything that would keep him from following her there. But it was no use. He was too far gone. He was already over the edge, free falling, hoping that he could pull her with him.
He bucked with a helpless groan of ecstasy at the first emission that rocketed from his dick, straight up into the encircling warmth of her womb. But when the second spurt erupted, he felt something else - the crushing grip of her muscles tightening around him in her own release.
His eyes popped open wide with grateful wonder as she shuddered around him, her insides clamping down mercilessly, her orgasm reverberating in glorious sync with his own.
She wasn’t nearly as surprised as he was. The minute she felt him let go - felt that molten liquid shoot deep inside, bathing her core in warmth - she knew she had arrived. This was it. This was the ecstasy she’d searched for all along; the connection that had eluded her until Edward. The thing she’d wanted that she could never name, never even imagine, when she had sought out a stranger to somehow complete her.
It made no sense to her, even now. She knew her self-esteem should not hinge upon her desirability to someone else; nor her ability to quench his desires in return. But here, in Edward Masen’s room, in Edward Masen’s bed, she had found something she never knew was missing, something she could never find alone. And it wasn’t between his legs - it was in his eyes.
And he recognized that truth in hers.
They found that nameless truth in one another, rutting atop twisted bed covers, bathed in slats of golden sunlight spilling through the window blinds. Bella Swan and Edward Masen had finally come together. In unison. In a whirlwind of delirium and ecstasy and blind trust that both had wished for, but never fully expected to happen.
But it did. It did happen. They had finally reached the pinnacle they had both yearned for, at exactly the same time, with matching intensity. Matching awe. Matching disbelief, and acceptance, and relief.
As they clutched each other in panting, pulsating oneness, they both wondered the same thing.
Where would they go from here?
