I tried to enjoy the water, the warmness of it lapping against my cold body, but it was Bella’s body that commanded my attention. Remain in control, I ordered myself. Nothing that causes even the slightest hint of pain. My free hand flexed into a tight ball and my frame tensed. I was checking my resolve.
Bella’s blood smelled even better in this hot, humid climate. It was a good thing I’d just spent 12 hours locked into a plane beside her, with her blood and the blood of the other passengers recycling around me and building in potency. Otherwise I wasn’t sure if I could stand to be this close to her, so unprotected by clothes or distance.
As it was, the scent torched my throat, but it wasn’t anything I hadn’t learned to live with for months. My muscles coiled for attack, and my stomach contracted, but it wasn’t just for her blood. No, there was something else, something dancing with my killer instinct, a deep, crushing need I had kept bottled all those months I’d unfurled myself from her desperate embrace when the desire to kill her became stronger than my love for her… They had all prepared me for this night, for this moment, when my new bride and I would touch, whole body to whole body, for the first time.
The new hunger built in me. As soon as I said I would try–just try, as I had promised–I unleashed it a tiny bit. I gave in to the hope that the faith she and Esme and Carlisle had put in me might be justified. I looked at her now, her milky white skin rippling below the clear, tranquil water off Isle Esme, and the fire grew stronger in me. Again I was mesmerized by her bravery. Anyone else would not bring their naked, pulsing body anywhere close to to me. And yet, here was my wife, pushing up to float on her back, slipping past me, eyes closed and relaxed. Thank God for that, I supposed.
The water rippled upon me from her movement, breaking below the surface against my stomach, my member, my whole body shuddering. And then to gaze upon her: Her translucent skin glowing in the moonlight, her bare breasts– I caught my breath. I had imagined them every time I’d held her close, every time she had pressed into me, every time she gasped at our kisses. I had memorized the sensation of her breasts pressing against my chest. They had left a shadow behind them, burned themselves hotly into my chest.
But now she was leisurely breaking the surface of the water, her eyes closed, reaching behind her to languidly propel herself along. Her breasts moved higher upon her ribcage when she did it. They seemed even more translucent than the rest of her, laced through with delicate blue veins leading up to dusty brown and then rose pink nipples. They were small but strained away from Bella’s body. As she passed me, I saw how the water glinted up from her belly button, and then clung to the soft chestnut hairs leading to the cleft in her legs.
I swam under her, using the fact that I didn’t need to breath to my advantage. As I passed, I reached up shyly and ran my fingertips gently across her hamstrings, her soft buttocks, her arched back. It felt remarkable, glistening through my hand and flooding my body. I swam quickly ahead her and turned to catch her. She gasped in surprise and then curled into my waiting arms.
“You’re right, the water’s wonderful,” she whispered, her eyes sleepy with desire. Her arm wrapped around me and stroked the hairs on my neck.
I was tense. Shy, despite the longing that was making me braver by the second. I arranged my face into a soft smile, and looked down at her. I had a 50-50 chance of doing this without losing control. I could already feel it faltering. And then the caress of her bare breasts against my chest sent a hitch into my breath. I automatically pulled her closer. I gently pressed my lips to her, determined to maintain as much civility as I could for as long as I could.
As ever, Bella had other ideas. She wrapped her legs around me. I froze. She had done this before, but there had always been a quilt, a blanket, a jacket between us, protecting her from my chilly body. To feel her body pressed tight against me, the only thing between us an infinitesimally thin layer of water, made it feel as if I’d never held her, not really. As if we had never embraced, if this is what it could feel like. Suddenly her pulse felt like it was inside me–not signaling the monster in me but feeding my growing need. I wrapped my arms around her closely. We kissed deeper, but still as gently as I could manage with my breath coming shorter and more irregularly.
And then I couldn’t help it, I pulled my lips from her face and ran them along her chin to her delicious-smelling neck down to her breast. Ahhh. It fit perfectly in my mouth. I opened wide and sucked almost all of it in, breathing deeply the baby-powder scent of her skin and the blood pulsing underneath. Bella murmured, an incomprehensible series of syllables that sighed into a coo. She ground herself further into me, wrapping her arm around my neck to pull me closer, her lips nuzzling into my wet hair. To be enclosed in her scent was heavenly and unbearable.
I made the executive decision to end the midnight swim. I had to see at my wife’s beautiful body, again. Carefully, I shifted so that one hand was underneath her, providing her a seat. She didn’t seem to notice except for scooting close to me and pressing her breast further into my mouth. I suddenly found my fingers playing along one cheek of her buttocks. The sensation sent little ripples of pleasure up my hand and through my body. Remarkable. As we left the water, as we left the water, one area of wetness and heat burned my stomach, where her legs parted and met my body. My breathing quickened.
I eased down to my knees and placed her gently on the sand. Reaching up to kiss her face, I gasped her name.
“I need to see you,” I said roughly.
Hesitantly, I released her from my grasp and sat back on my heels. And there she was, a gift from the fates. Her translucent skin stretched softly over her ribs and hips and thighs. I drank her in greedily with my eyes. First her deep, chocolate eyes, wide, but with a different expression than I had ever seen. She wasn’t dazzled. She wasn’t holding her breath. She wasn’t blank. She was here, and her eyes were determined, focused in a way they’d never been.
She watched me and her eyes silently encouraged me on. Her face was red and she pressed her teeth down upon her full bottom lip in a way that told me she was holding something back too, being patient with my resolve. Her breathing came quickly between her barely parted lips. Then her neck, which had been part of my daily regimen of pleasure and pain as I allowed myself to become desensitized to her scent. Her arms, strong, and her hands, clasping and releasing the sand around her, as she writhed lightly under my gaze.
And then again, her breasts. Her soft, small breasts pooled upon her ribs so exquisitely, so invitingly. Her nipples strained toward me. Bella breathed deeply and the movement pushed her breasts up toward me further. Her ribcage gave way to a delicate waist and then gave way to full hips. And there, below her hips was a barely visible trail of soft chestnut hair that expanded to a tuft, wet and dripping with water from the ocean.
My lips parted. I wanted to speak, but there were no words strong enough to describe the beauty of her body. I merely breathed deep and tentatively placed my hands lightly on her ribs. She sighed and her breasts heaved. I leaned down to kiss her between her breasts. I kissed her again, running my nose up to her soft breast, placing one nipple in my mouth. She gasped and I pulled away.
She rolled her eyes, flinging her arms toward me and beckoning me back. “Good sound, Edward. Very, very good.”
I complied. I sucked a nipple into my mouth, swallowing the brine of the sea water and tasting the milky, baby-powder scent of her skin that mingled with the floral, almost sweet scent of her blood. My other hand came up to gently press into her other breast, and Bella’s back arched beneath me. She wanted more. Her legs spread and rose to wrap around me again.
And that’s when I smelled it.
The smell. Her smell. I breathed deeply and it scorched my throat. But it was more than that. Behind the scent of her blood, the overpowering, wrecking ball of it, was an earthier, more pungent scent. I closed my eyes and followed the scent, unleashing my instincts just a little, testing them.
I ran my nose along her ocean-damp skin to the cleft in her legs. There, her femoral artery pulsed quickly, beating hard against her skin. And then it hit me. My breathing became ragged, powerless. Her… sex–I would not defile her by calling it any of the vulgar names I had heard in countless minds through the decades. But her sex. It was dizzying. Buttery, intense, with an edge of saltiness. It was better than any blood. Better, even, than her blood.
I already knew her blood had the power to destroy me–and, more pointedly, her. I had discovered with some horror that the rain clinging to her made her smell even better. Now, poised above her sweet sex, with her blood pulsing so close to the surface, filling up all her most tender, delicate folds, I realized the deep truth: Sex made her smell best of all… It turned out there was a kryptonite that could control me. This was it. Bella’s delicious, heady perfume: her blood, the salt water clinging to her, the irresistible fragrance wafting from her now. This was the scent. This is what drew me to her from the beginning.
My breath staggered and my mouth filled with venom and saliva. I wanted her. I needed to taste her. A thrill shot through me. This time, in this way, I could taste her. And she was laying there, her breath staggering also, wishing me to.
She was mine.
I leaned my head down to taste her. She had flung an arm over her face, her deep chocolate eyes hidden in the crease of her elbow. I couldn’t have that right now. Least of all now, when I couldn’t read her mind and I was so at risk of losing control of all my faculties, everything about her calling me to abandon my careful restraint. I reached up and gently brushed her arm aside. I caressed her cheek and she leaned her face into my palm, inhaling deeply and sighing. Not a contented, languid sigh but a fiery, broken one, one that told me without reading her mind that she wanted me too, that she needed me.
It wasn’t at all as difficult as I’d imagined, and that realization emboldened me. I’d told her once that I could reach up to brush her cheek and end up crushing her skull. But now, with her warm, eager body under me, with her sex in my mouth, I could do nothing to hurt her. I could only bring her pleasure. I hoped I could, anyway.
Just then, her head tilted again and her lips parted into my palm. I rubbed my thumb gently across them. So naturally that I didn’t expect it, she took my thumb in her mouth and started sucking.
I lost my breath and it whooshed chillily around her folds. She sucked a bit harder and cooed.
All my composure, all the restraint I’d built up over decades, started its slow crumble. I dipped my head down and took a sip of her. She was delicious. I was becoming greedy, giving in to my selfish nature. I wanted to nuzzle in here forever, memorizing her folds, her responses, to be surrounded by her pleasure and her need forever. And I could; I didn’t need to breath. Still, my chest heaved unevenly, gulping at her flavor and at the heady scent of her. My tongue moved of it’s own will. I slurped, swallowing her wetness. I couldn’t believe how wet she was. Had she always been?
I wondered if my touch that first night I stayed with her at Charlie’s house–the first night she knew I was there, when she said I drove her crazy–I wondered if she’d been this wet then. I had no idea her body was capable of this. Nor did I conceive of how urgent her desire was as her hips rocked into me repeatedly and her breathing became louder, a command all their own. I licked up and down her wet folds, feeling her pulse under my tongue. It was miraculous, as if her pulse was all around me, as if her delicate membrane of skin had become that much more bare, that much more inviting. I was doing this to her, I marveled. To think on my very first try I was giving her some portion of the pleasure she gave me.
I tried to give her more. I sucked at her lips. I located a hard, straining nub and sucked on it lightly at first, assessing whether this would cause her pleasure or pain. She… growled. A soft, tiger-kitten growl that launched me further upon her. I wanted inside her, all the way, as far as I could get. I was aware that the pleasure she felt was rippling down by body. Every sound, every movement, every suck of her mouth upon my cold thumb made me shudder.
I sucked again on the nub, feeling her wetness trickle down my chin. I regretfully moved my thumb from her mouth, something she resisted, straining after it. But I placed my hand upon one heaving breast and she laid flat. Her pulse quickened under my hand, under my tongue. If I’d had a pulse, mine would have responded in kind. Instead, it was as if her heartbeat, her sweat, dewing up and mixing with the damp ocean water on her skin, were flowing through my veins, as if her blood flowing to her soft and inviting and warm folds were feeding my own growing desire.
I felt my member twitch with the sensation. I moved my hand upon her thigh, asking, silently, for her to open herself more to me, to give me more of herself. She willingly complied. A thrill shot through me, nearly stinging my hardening member with desire. I could feel it growing.
I sucked on her, licked her, and when I couldn’t take any more, placed one long finger inside of her. I was worried that my cold hands would be uncomfortable for her, but instead her breath caught and she angled her hips to take more of my finger. She was inviting me inside her. I moaned quietly, exhaling my last store of oxygen.
“Please,” she sighed. Her tiger-kitten growl returned.
So I did. Anything for her. Everything for her. I glided my finger around her sex, slipping deeper and deeper, lost in the remarkable sensation of it. I memorized the valleys and nubs inside of her, seeking the softest, most tender part and pressing into it, exploring it. The sensation shimmered through my hand, leaving my cold, hard skin hot, burning it, sending the sensation through the ropes of muscles at my shoulders, at my neck, down my back, tensing my buttocks. It was impossible, but I was on fire.
“More,” she breathed, timidly, I thought. She wanted more of me. Could I give her more? I couldn’t give her all, I knew that, as much as I longed to take her deeply and roughly. I had to maintain some control. I thought again of my earlier warning: Reaching to caress and instead crushing. Her blood pulsed close, singing to me.
I settled for inserting another finger into her sex, and I was rewarded with a shudder of delight from her. Her hips bucked. I could do this forever. I was lost in her pleasure, in her joy, in how her pleasure fed my own. But it seemed clear that she could not last forever. Her breath was coming faster, panting, sighing, kitten growling. Her urgency ignited a mirror urgency in me. I pressed harder, deeper. I couldn’t imagine anything feeling better than this. I moved faster, in time with her breathing.
“Oh! Oh!” she chanted. Was I hurting her? I slowed.
She whipped her head up, frantic irritation in her eyes. On her face had bloomed the most inviting splotches of swirling red. “Don’t… stop!” she panted. I smiled at her expression and picked up the pace. I would have to trust her ohs and her “pleases” to mean what I hoped they meant. I was beyond being able to judge for myself now. This beautiful, warm, trusting creature writhing under me–in pleasure it seemed!–wanted more. I could give her more. I hoped what I could give would be enough for her. And never more than she wanted.
And then her sex began contracting, sucking at my fingers. What a remarkable sensation. It was as if her mouth were sucking on me, as if she couldn’t get enough of me. I buried a third finger into her, sucked more on her. I heard a fierce growl rip from my throat.
“Oh, oh Edward!” my dear Bella grunted. My body sang in response to her tone. I’d never heard her say my name so powerfully, so commandingly. I was hers now, too. I realized. I was really hers.
She grunted and sighed and convulsed and I relished her warm, soft, trusting body, under me. I breathed in her scent deeply. I growled again. “Bella.” I pressed my fingers into her carefully, slowing my fervor to her human pace, praying that she was not hurt by my need for her.
“Ooooohhh!” She moaned. Her fingers, sandy from digging into the white sand around her, twisted into my hair, pressed me further into her, mashing my lips and teeth and nose into her strong scent. I could have easily resisted, but I allowed her to pull me in deeper, as deep as she would have me. I felt her sex hold me tight, contract in deep waves. If I were a human man, I can imagine it might have hurt. My jaw might ache. As it was, it felt like a child holding my hand, soft but clinging as hard as its little muscles could strain. I loved it.
I loved her body. I had since the day I’d seen that deep blue blouse clinging to her curves and turning her skin to cream. But to have her now, naked, shaking under me, her translucent white thighs spread wide for me and her rose-pink nipples pressing up and out, I felt honored. Blessed, if I were not damned, that she had chosen me, given me her sex. I continued to stroke her, gently now, unwilling to give up her scent, to leave her warm, wet, all-powerful embrace. Yes, I could have overpowered her in an instant. But for her to give herself to me like this, I felt humbled, awed by her. She had always believed in me, in my ability to do this without injuring her, had always looked at me as if I were trustworthy. Tonight, perhaps I was. Hope sang in me, mixing with my pleasure.
I pulled my lips away from her sex and slowly allowed my fingers to slip from her wet embrace. I was breathing deep, my face resting on her soft mound. I turned and kissed her on the crook of her leg, just where the artery beat strongest.
I pulled up and watched her carefully. Her eyes were closed, denying me insight into her thoughts. Her chest still heaved, more gently now. A soft, satisfied smile drifted to her face and stayed there.
I leaned toward her, pressing my cheek to her chest, the moist contracting of her heart slowing my breathing, too. My hands slid under her back, holding her just under the shoulder blades, bringing her to me. Her cool breast was inches from me. I could not stop myself. I snaked out my tongue to caress her nipple with it.
Bella’s arms, warm and soft, silk over glass, I reminded myself, wrapped around my neck, caressing my wet face.
“Hmmmmm,” she cooed. I smiled as she rocked me slightly and kissed my hair.
And then she seemed to collect herself ever so slightly. She pushed me away gently, stealing her nipple from my hungry mouth. “Oh no,” she said hoarsely. “It’s my turn now.”
Just then I looked up at her, her satisfied, sleepy smile arranging into an intense gaze, a more determined set to her full lips. My…. cock–I would have to get used to these terms, to this part of my body that hand been a vestigial organ until I met Bella–was still throbbing. It made me feel… alive in her embrace.
I looked at her shyly. She’d already given me more pleasure than I could have imagined. Could I take more? Would I really lose control then? I wanted to hold her closer, but she denied me. Funny how her withholding, even a little after all she’d given this evening, stoked the fire in me.
But my worries drifted, unable to maintain their focus as my lips touched hers, first softly and then more urgently. Her hands moved from around my neck to my hair, pulling urgently. I laughed to myself, remembering the first time I had kissed her, how she had attacked me, how I had been utterly unprepared for her physical need for me. I had written it off as my predator’s appeal: The scent of my skin, my perfect features. But now I felt what it must have always been. She’d always been filled with this need for me. Her body had always responded to me this way. Now it seemed impossibly cruel that I had ever denied her, that I had ever pulled away from her, kept a safe distance. After tasting the mingling of her sex and the scent of her blood, I could not pull back. There was no distance that would be safe between us ever again. I needed this girl, the girl–the only girl in the world.
So I acquiesced. I kissed her more deeply, pressing into her not because I feared losing her, or to store up what I could get before I forced myself to leave her, but because she was mine, and she wanted me. I wound my arms more tightly around her, holding my weight off her by keeping my arms as a steel cage over her frame. I whispered her name when my lips were free to do so. Kissing over her shimmering eyelids, her cheekbone, harder now–and I was harder now–to her ears. I was overcome with the desire to… bite her. Not to drain her blood, but to nibble upon the delicate, sensitive skin of her ears. I pulled back. I couldn’t. My teeth, too sharp and my mouth too swimming in venom must not be allowed any exceptions. That one thing, only that, could I promise tonight.
When I broke our embrace, she laid her head upon the sand, her wild, dark hair swirling around her in the most becoming shamble. I stroked it. She laid her hand upon my face, tracing her fingers over my eyebrows, then my lids, to my nose. When she got to my mouth, I kissed her hand roughly. I was losing the battle with my self-control, and I had never felt better. Never in all my existence.
“I love you,” she cooed, a different sound to her voice. It was possessive. I thrilled to it and smiled deeply. I wanted to be hers, forever. I would be. There was not helping it now. I was suddenly glad that I hadn’t been stronger, that I hadn’t stayed away from Forks permanently after her blood had sent me into a homicidal rage during biology.
“Love is not enough,” I declared, leaning down to kiss her nose. “I love you, yes, fervently. But you are my life. You are everything now. Thank you.” I kissed her hand again.
She looked surprised, confused. “For what?”
“For choosing me.” It was a statement. I felt confident, but also quiet, reverent.
A blush sprouted from her cheekbones to her neck and all the way–I noticed–to her beautiful, soft, round breasts. Ugh. It was too much. I would say I didn’t deserve it, but I was past caring, just grateful that she was mine.
Here eyes widened. She smiled deeply. Her laugh this time, too, had something extra in it. Throatier, thicker. She wrapped her legs around me and urged me closer. I could no longer refuse her. I hoped I was not hurting her. She sighed happily and buried her face in my stone neck, kissing me.
Then I felt a different sensation. Kisses, yes. But, was that her teeth? Was she nibbling on me as I had desired to nibble on her? It was ecstatic. If her caresses sent a flood of delight through my body, her bites caused a different sensation. Not pain–never pain–but a rougher, deeper throbbing that rocked my body. Everything she did seemed to have a direct line to my cock, which was pressing uncomfortably into the sand. I turned my head to give her greater access, to encourage her, and because, truthfully, I couldn’t think or do anything but give in to the sensation.
I growled. I wanted to bite her shoulder, but I marshaled what little concentration I had and refrained. Instead, I became her toy. She narrowed her eyes and growled her tiger-kitten growl again, twisting her hips into me so that my cock was brushing the soft fur of her mound. If her bites were ecstatic, the feel of my member upon her mound, so near the wetness and warmth of her sex sent me to near convulsions. I breathed raggedly. I thought I might break apart. Perhaps there was a second way to kill a vampire. And if so, I would gladly go this way. Except that it would mean I would leave Bella. And I would never do that again.
“Uh uh,” she panted. “My turn, remember?”
She nudged me, trying to get me to roll over. I complied. On my back, I stared up at her. With sand matting into her long raven hair, a blush upon her cheeks and breasts, her rose nipples extended, sand glinting against her hip in the moonlight, she was a goddess. My goddess, sent to save me by some reckless angel. Indeed. I closed my eyes in a silent prayer of gratitude to that angel, for bringing me my sun.
When I opened my eyes again, Bella was looking at me. Not just in the wide, bewildered gaze I’d grown accustomed to. But narrowed, mischievous eyes. In the moonlight, I glowed, phosphorescent. She straddled my thighs, my member jutting straight and hard at her. Her eyes were leisurely, assessing, scouring me. To think I once feared to show this girl what I looked like in the sunlight. And now here she was, sitting astride me, holding me down with nothing more than her desire for me. I was crushed under it.
She took in the broad expanse of my shoulders, my chest, which heaved under her inspection. I didn’t know what my face was doing–always so careful around her, always so guarded. I just watched her expression with wonder and hope. Her fingers reached out and traced my collar bone, sending soft shivers down my spine and my stomach. My cock twitched. Bella sat back, surprised. Then her eyes narrowed and she reached for my chest again. Another shiver. Another twitch. I groaned. I wanted to give her her chance, her opportunity to see me the way she’d allowed me to see her. But if she kept up this soft, gentle teasing, I would have to take her. I set my jaw, determined to give her what she wanted.
She smiled widely, her fingers drifting down my chest, floating to my nipple. “Mine,” she growled in her tiger-kitten growl. I caught my breath.
Her fingers sent shock waves, building, through my body, tingling into my buttocks, down my hamstrings. I strained to hold myself down. In a swift move I could push her off me and carry her to the big white bed. But I breathed loudly through my nose, taking in all her scents and forcing myself to lay still.
Her nail scratched across my nipple. I shivered and growled. My arms reached over my head and my chest heaved. My fingers ripped into the sand. She grinned and laughed. “Mine,” she whispered and leaned down, my cock pressing into her soft mound again. I squeezed my eyes shut. She used her little kitten tongue to lick my nipple. It was excruciatingly pleasant. And then my arms were quickly around her, holding her gently to me. “Truly,” I muttered thickly into her neck.
Her hands began to move more quickly, stroking more firmly against my chest, my nipples, massaging the tight ropes of my neck muscles. I felt her breasts press against my stomach. I growled her name, impatient, near pain with my desire.
“Please,” she breathed into my ear. “Just a little while longer.” She scratched her nails down my stomach and I snarled.
Then she slowly moved herself up and I dropped my arms to let her. Her hands drifted to a sensitive spot just below my belly button. My head whipped to the side.
Her breath came faster. I could hear her heartbeat hammering in her chest. I could feel her femoral artery beating against my thigh. I was doing this to her. I wasn’t touching her, and yet her breath was broken and panting. Her cheeks stained with red. I looked up at her, and she was staring with wonder at my cock. She shyly stroked the hair around it. I braced myself, restraining my desire to bend her and take her just now, at this moment, the animal in me growling.
Then she leaned down to kiss the head. “Auugh,” I groaned, from somewhere deep in my belly. What was this woman doing to me? I had never felt so vulnerable, despite my overpowering strength. I would do anything she wanted now, anything she asked. And then I saw how, just as I made her wet and mad with desire, she was rejoicing in having done the same to me. I could let her enjoy that moment, to take in the power she had over me.
“You’re…” she sighed, and hesitated, her hot moist breath brushing across the head of my cock. I tensed for a second. My skin was always hard, unnaturally cold, and my cock, responding to her touch, to her pleasure, to my own desire, had grown. It must have been nine inches now, the bulbous head wagging up at her. I worried she would be afraid, that she would see it and see how I could hurt her. But instead, her eyes turned to me in wonder. “You’re so… beautiful. So much more beautiful than I’d even dreamt.”
As ever, Bella surprised me. She’d dreamt of my body? She’d fantasized about my cock? I wished I could see those dreams.
That did it.
“OK.” I declared, my hand instantly on her sand-covered hips, my thumbs moving of their own volition toward her cleft. “That’s enough.”
In one swift move I was on my feet, holding her to me, pressing her her breasts and soft mound against my feverish body as I walked quickly into the waiting bedroom.
I laid her upon the bed. Seeing her there, the sand drifting on the white linens, I was suddenly worried. I knew what I wanted with all my heart and what had built up in my body. But would I hurt her if I gave into it? It was a question I’d asked my self every day, but it meant something different tonight, in this bed with her. Earlier on the beach, it had been enough. But would this be different? She could read the concern in my face and reached a hand up to stroke my cheek.
“Bella,” I whispered softly, kissing her hand. “I’m not even sure how to start.”
But dear Bella, ever observant, had an answer. I could read it in her eyes before she said it. “I am. Lie on your back, love.”
I quickly rolled onto my back, my aching, tingling cock straining up at her.
I watched as she straddled me again, this time edging closer to my cock. As miraculous as it felt to me, would this be the thing I couldn’t control? And if I couldn’t control it, would I do something permanent, something unforgivable to her?
Just then, her hand reached down and clasped my shaft. All the air rushed from my lungs. It was… indescribable. I grabbed onto her hips harshly and then lightened my grasp. I had to have her hips, not just because I had to have her, but I had to have a way to keep her away from me if I lost control. Her gaze, bewildered and concentrating, flickered up at me and understood.
She returned to my cock, rubbing it along her wet–still wet? How was that possible? She was amazing. A miracle. She should be studied–lips. The sound of her pulse was drown out by my sighs and deep inhalations of breath. I couldn’t get enough of her. How had I ever just kissed her and walked away?
I could sense that something more had shifted inside me, another irrevocable change. I gave up caring what my face looked like, what image I was conveying to her. I gave up trying not to scare her. Now all I could do was work not to hurt her. All I could feel was her hand upon my shaft, her…. pussy–that seemed right now, for my tiger-kitten bride–sending a flood of sensation through my body, shaking me. She may have sighed. It might have been me.
She took me slowly, carefully into her. I was glad of that, for, even with her deliberate pace, every inch more she took of me into her wet, warm body flooded me with another wave of pleasure, clouding my head and staggering my breath. I closed my eyes to let the sensation wash over me. I lay perfectly still, afraid to unleash myself upon her. Bella was incredible. I hoped in the morning I would prove deser–
And then I couldn’t think. Bella had stopped inching me into her and instead rose up a few inches and then slid back down. She did it again and again, slowly, tentatively, carefully. Thank god, for once, she was being cautious. It allowed me to wallow in our pleasure. Her wet, squishy embrace and the way her body held me made my stomach twitch and tense. It started rolling of its own accord. My hands held tight to her, letting the heat radiating from them and fill my hands with another kind of tingle. Another pleasurable ripple added to the tsunami building inside me. She mewled absently and my breathing got heavier, more erratic. She went on like this, going at her own pace, driving me slowly mad in the process, until I felt her rest her weight upon my lap. She stopped moving then.
I opened my eyes and looked up at her. I could barely focus, closer to human sight than my extrasensory vampire vision. Her face, chest, nipples bloomed with a fresh blush, her heart beat faster. Her breathing, like mine, was loud and deep and gaining in speed. I lifted my head to look at her, caressing her thighs and running my hands down to her cleft, tickling her straining nub. She vibrated. I wondered at how she’d fit all of me inside her.
Then my head dropped back to the pillow as I felt her start a faint, almost unconscious circling of her hips upon me.
“You can’t imagine what you feel like, Bella,” I groaned. I searched for a way to explain it better and then gave up. “You can’t imagine how exquisite you feel.”
Bella’s eyes were on me, but unfocused. She reached her hands forward to my stomach and her slight circles became a rhythm, a rocking. She closed her eyes and sighed. She huffed. He breasts ever so gently swayed with her movement.
The movement was excruciating, exquisite, her warm, wet sex inviting and trembling upon me. She sighed and rolled her neck slightly, and she bit her lip. I watched her for a moment transfixed by what she was doing to me and how right and natural and yet overpoweringly supernatural she looked moving upon me like that. Her blush had spread, extending from her hairline to her nipples. She was so beautiful.
But it quickly overwhelmed me, the sight of my beautiful, delicate wife, trusting me, moving upon me, giving me this gift of pleasure. Earlier, I had thought that that was the best I could ever feel. I added a new category: Myself inside Bella. I groaned. Her insistent but too slow for me movements sent shock wave after shock wave through me. Instinctively, my buttocks clenched and she groaned. I felt myself go deeper, if that was possible. I matched her cadence, but gently, praying I wasn’t pressing too hard. The ripples of her sex upon me were feeding the tsunami that crashed upon my brain, making all thoughts obsolete, all reason useless. All awareness moot, except for this: Mine. I must take her.
I growled, the need building stronger in me. I could no longer go at a human pace, and I couldn’t stop myself from flipping her over swiftly and taking her. She gasped, bearing her teeth in a way I’d never seen before. She growled and sighed and matched each of my deep strokes with her own answering twist of the hips. Yes. More yeses. She was an abundance of yeses. I gave up fighting, gave up restraining and instead fell upon her, drove myself into her over and over again. I covered her face with harsh kisses, muttering her name between gasps, pulling at her legs until one was up over my shoulder. Was the body made for this? It was remarkable.
I moved purely by instinct now, letting her scent fill every part of me. It seemed the deeper I went, the stronger her scent became. It was drugging me, I was losing reason. I simply drove into her again. And again. And again. Over and over, feeling the cataclysmic force of her body and my body joined together, moving easily, naturally together. Bella was groaning loudly now, muttering my name in a tone that did nothing to slow my speed or force. I was gasping as well, grunting.
She was calling my name, screaming it. It was like hunting–letting go my thoughts and control and giving myself over to the pleasure of my body. But this pleasure, with this woman, was greater than any hunt I’d been on. And the scent of her blood added just an edge of pain.
A deep growl burst from me. I leaned down and licked her neck–better than biting, at least. Touching the tip of my tongue to where her blood pulsed wildly. I arched my back, felt Bella contract again, pulling at my cock, pulling me deeper into her as she had done on the beach with my fingers. I grabbed her breasts, placed my large palms over her snowy white skin, fell upon them with my full weight, forgetting my promises, forgetting my restraint, forgetting everything but this joy, this intense pleasure that filled every atom of my body, and kept redoubling and redoubling. How much would I take, how much could Bella give? I almost didn’t care, until I looked down and saw her crushed under my weight–not crushed, but pinned, I corrected myself–and marshaled all my power now–not to stop but to lift myself, but to move my hands from her body, and to grip down on the pillows around her. I snarled as my body shook, my cock finding release, my body convulsing as wave after wave of intense sex flew from me.
My eyes were closed tightly, my head useless. I was vaguely aware of biting something, of my mouth crushing down as my orgasm overwhelmed me. In that moment there was nothing but pure pleasure radiating out from us and then back, growing stronger and exploding. I screamed and felt the last wisp of adrenaline snake from my body.
I breathed deep suddenly, falling upon my love, my phenomenal, sexy wife. Though I couldn’t sleep, I felt heavy, burdened by my release, and it took all my effort to force my body off her, slipping regretfully from her, and laid just my cheek upon her shoulder.
I sighed deeply and closed my eyes. Her heartbeat was far from normal. With effort I raised my head and kissed her throbbing temple. I had just begun the first notes of her lullaby when she drifted off to sleep.
I lay there, breathing in and out so to absorb the scent of our lovemaking, and traced my hands along her side. Because I could, and she was mine, and she had survived, I let my hands drift gently along her sternum and nipple, down her hip and along her leg. She just lay there, contented, ever trusting, deeply relaxed. She slept. Just once, she whispered my name. She smiled. As did I.
It wasn’t until hours later, in the dim moonlight, that I saw the bruises start to bloom.