Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to Stephanie Meyer. Tragic, but
true. *snorts* But Dreadward is mine. Just sayin...
I have to take a moment to thank the lovey ladies NKubie and
kikki7 for their awesome pre-reading and my beta Vintagejgc.
This was inspired by NKubie and her ‘wards. *giggling* She has a
little fic called Searching For The Right Wards. Go show her some
love!
Sweet
Smoke and Spun Glass
Summertime
started with a bus ride. It's moving slowly, a humid breeze floating
in through the widows, exhaust and patchouli filling the air. The
passengers are a mixed bag, some friends, and some strangers- all
mellow, all high. We all came together to escape the concrete jungle,
to get away from the city for a while. We're heading to an
artists’ commune on the Quileute Reservation.
Bloodshot
eyes and silly smiles, we pass a jay around and ramble about
everything and nothing at all.
“I
want to see trees, big fucking trees that I can climb.” Carlisle
takes a hit and holds it in, tilting his head back before turning to
his girl, Esme. She leans in like she’s going to kiss him but her
lips just hover over his before he exhales.
The
smoke moves like a ghost from his mouth to hers before she kisses him
lightly, pulling back and very slowly dragging a finger along
his jaw. They stare at each other, smiling big and goofy, and then he
reaches out and slides his finger across her bottom lip. Esme traces
his eyebrows as Carlisle runs his finger over the shell of
her ear. Esme's hands are in his hair scratching and massaging his
scalp. Her touch is soft and slow, his reaction is to stare at her in
adoration.
It’s
intense, so intense that I feel as though I shouldn’t be watching
this… this intimate moment between them.
Love.
It’s
so…there.
So
fucking obvious.
The
way they look at each other makes me smile, blissing me out in a
contact high.
Carlisle
and Esme are beautiful together. She ruffs his sandy blond hair and
they both laugh. When he touches her, she shivers. When she smiles,
he lets out the quietest contented sigh and his eyes sparkle. Love
for sure.
I
retreat, letting Esme and Carlisle sit low in their seats,
whispering, giggling, loving. I sink down, smoke a bowl and
listen as Alice and Leah sing along with the radio.
I
lean back and reach my arms up, stretching. I turn around, smirking
at Leah as she shimmies in her seat, singing off key and not caring
who stares.
Looking
past her, I see someone I hadn't noticed before. He takes my breath
away. He’s in the back seat, sitting criss-cross applesauce,
long dreadlocks covering half his face, his brow slightly furrowed as
he rolls a joint. His fingers seem to glide over the herb and paper;
back and forth he moves his fingers across, smoothing it, rolling
until it’s perfect. He grins, looking proud of his work, and
I bite my lip, smiling. I watch as he pushes his hair away from his
face, flexing his forearms and biceps and I’m mesmerized. His
dreads are an auburn color and long, past his shoulders; such a
contrast to his pale skin.
My
eyes roam his body, unabashedly staring and putting me in a trance.
He
is…
beautiful.
When
I look at his face again, I meet his eyes. He’s caught me staring.
I
stop breathing. I stare right back. I should be blushing
but I’m not. We are locked in this moment; his green eyes are
so bright and so…
everything.
Soft and warm, comforting and accepting, sparking in amusement as he
raises his brow. He holds the joint out as an offering and his
brow rises even higher.
Okay, now
I’m blushing. Heat is pulsating through my entire body as I rise
from my seat and make my way to the back.
There
is one long seat spanning the width of the bus and I sit next to him
and cross my legs just like his. He doesn’t say anything,
just lights it up and takes a small puff before handing it to me. He
looks away, brow furrowed again, but a small smile on his lips.
I
take it, lift it to my lips and inhale deeply.
He
looks up at me then, those eyes of his piercing and enchanting.
I
realize that I
want him.
I want him like I’ve never wanted anyone else. I know it’s
crazy, I've just met him, and I don't even know his name, but I can't
deny this… this
feeling. There
is this connection between us and I think he feels it too.
His
eyes are all over me. Looking at my body he licks his lips and a
thrill shoots through me. When he meets my gaze… I am spun-
kind of dizzy and I want to touch him. I want his hands to
ground me.
God…
The way he's looking at me... It’s the way Carlisle was
looking at Esme.
I
think of everything at once. I just graduated college- a heady
sense of liberation and freedom fills me. This whole trip is supposed
to be a statement of how I want to live, to get the hell out of
California and just
live for
a while. I vowed to step outside my shy tendencies, to take chances.
Right now I want to take that chance. I want to act on this pressing
urge to touch him. I’ve never wanted to touch someone
this badly.
He’s
so different from anyone I’ve ever liked. He doesn’t look like a
boy, he looks a like a man. Rugged and scruffy, scarred and tattooed;
waves colored in sea-foam green rush up his forearms, curling and
reaching up behind the sleeves of his shirt.
I
want to see him. All of him, every patch of ink drilled into
his skin.
I
want to strip down and show him all of me. My body is untouched by
scars or ink, so plain compared to his. I want him to paint me with
his breath, his lips, his tongue. My chest is heavy now, burning and
begging me to exhale, but I don’t, not yet. I steel my
resolve and lean over, watching his reaction as my lips hover over
his.
When
he leans in and parts his lips, I exhale in a rush.
Suddenly
his lips are on mine, soft and insistent. The smoke lingers
like curtains around us and I am lost.
Somehow
my hands are now on his shoulders and his are cupping my face,
angling me so that he can kiss me deeper. His tongue swirls around
mine and I gasp, shivering as his hands caress my face, my neck, my
collar bone.
My
body is buzzing, nerve endings alight as I slide my hand to the back
of his neck and pull him closer. It’s all moving so fast but in
slow motion. How I came to be straddling his lap, I’m not sure,
but I
love it. I
love the simple feel of him, his hands rubbing circles on my back,
his lips pressing gentle kisses to the corner of my mouth, his dreads
as they tickle my face.
Everything
feels so
good.
When
he pulls away, I grip the back of his shirt tightly. I don’t want
to let go.
His
eyes are on mine, a lazy smile blooming on his lips.
“Hi,”
he says his chest rising and falling so fast. I can feel his heart
pounding as I press my hand to his chest.
“Hi,”
I say and my heart is racing too.
I
slide my hand down and touch his arm where the sea-foam green starts
and I trace the wave as far as I can, my fingers wandering up the
sleeve of his shirt. He laughs lightly and pushes the sleeve up
as high as it will go. The water turns from blue to violet and
striking green, swirling patterns adorn his skin and it’s like
nothing I’ve ever seen.
“I
love this,” I say, fingers exploring, touching the art branded onto
his skin. He murmurs a quiet thank you and I take his other arm. The
waves on this one are done in crimson and black. It has a macabre
feel to it but it's just as beautiful as the other. This one is a bit
more intricate, the waves fierce and raging.
“I
love it too.” My head pops up at the sound of Alice’s voice. She
sits herself right down next to us and gives me a silly yet knowing
grin. She giggles when I blush and
I am blushing.
Heat rushes my cheeks as I slowly push away from him and I suddenly
find Alice’s laughter to be infectious. Apparently he does too
because before long we’re all laughing and Alice is slapping my arm
playfully.
“Bella!
Aren’t you going to introduce me to your new friend here?”
“Oh,”
I say because I’m in a daze, still a little breathless from all the
kissing and laughing. I look at him- his green eyes heavy lidded but
amused.
“I’m
Edward,” he says softly and he’s still staring at me, neither one
of us looking away.
Alice
is silent for a moment. “Edward and Bella…” she says and I
love the way our names sound together, each syllable falling into the
perfect cadence.
Taking
the joint I had discarded, she lights it up, inhales and gives a slow
shake of her head. She holds up the jay, offering it to me and I look
away, breaking the spell. I shift in Edward’s lap, unsure if I
should stay or move. He slides his hand along the small of my back
and around my hip, guiding my body as I move to the side. I’m still
in his lap, his arm draped around me but now I can look at Alice too.
We
smoke, slipping away into a stupefied high, and Alice talks
a mile-a-minute, every once in a while bursting into song. She sings
obnoxiously loud with Leah and we laugh; I laugh so fucking
hard that I can’t breathe.
When
Edward laughs it’s low and deep. We’re so close that I can
feel
it vibrating through his chest. I’ve never been a touchy-feely kind
of girl, but I love being this close to him, love that he’s always
touching me. Alice claims she has the munchies and then she’s
up and in search of food, but I know better. I saw her not-so-chalant
wink.
She
approves and leaves us to our own devices.
Our
words come easy, our touches lighter as we spend time talking. And I
adore
talking with Edward. As physically attractive as I find him to be,
I'm learning that he is so much more than that. I love the way his
eyes light up when he speaks about something he's passionate about,
and we share lots of common interests. It's great to talk to someone
who shares my love for art and music, someone who relishes using his
hands to create.
He's
teases me about being barefoot and runs his finger along the bottom
of my foot every once in a while, causing me to break out into a fit
of giggles every time.
He
has a subdued confidence about him that I find completely
irresistible. We’re laid back as we talk and every once in a
while there are moments of silence that aren’t awkward at all-
moments that turn into heavy stares and hot stolen kisses. My eyes
traverse of every inch of him, my fingertips scout and discover where
he’s rough and where he’s smooth. He hums when I touch him, he
breathes a little faster too. When we talk, it’s questions
and answers, stories and memories wrapped up in a sweet smoke. It’s
almost odd how comfortable I am with him, how I feel like I could
tell him anything after knowing him for such a short time.
And
time flies when he’s near me, hours in his company pass in a
rush-rush blur
and before I know it, the bus stops. We are hand in hand.
When
I step off the stairs, the sun hits my face and I breathe deeply.
It’s not California sun, not crazy hot and stifling. The breeze
isn’t humid, it’s cool, but when Edward’s thumb brushes against
my cheek, I’m hot all over.
“Edward!”
Someone shouts from behind us and we disconnect.
With
a sly grin Edward chuckles and says, “Seth.”
He
extends his hand but Seth scoffs and pulls him into a hug, clapping
his hand hard on Edward’s back.
“Shit,
man, I’m so glad to see you. I didn’t think
you were coming this year.” Seth says as he pulls away.
“The
furnace fired up?” Edward asks and Seth rolls his eyes.
“Always,”
he responds and turns to look at me.
“Seth,
this is Bella,” Edward gestures toward me and I wave to his friend.
Seth has long shaggy hair and a big goofy smile. The tank style top
he wears shows his extensive ink- a black tribal piece that stretches
over both of his arms. He’s a big guy, towering over Edward, and
yet I get a very mellow vibe from him. His eyes speak volumes; round,
wide, and sugary sweet. I kind of want to hug him, so I do.
There
are introductions all around, new unfamiliar faces mixed with the
comfort of Alice and Leah.
“Fuck
yes!” Carlisle shouts and then he’s running, booking it towards
the forest laden in giant trees and Esme is cheering him on as he
tries to climb.
Edward’s
smile is super warm as he toys with my pinky finger. I lock my
pinky around his and move a little closer.
“Find
me later?” I ask, not wanting my time with him to end but I’m too
excited about being here. I want to explore this place.
“How
about I find you sooner? Give you a tour?”
“I’d
like that.”
I
step away, he steps away, our hands together, our touch lingering
until we’re pulled apart; him by Seth, me by Alice. We walk
in opposite directions and I can’t stop myself from looking over my
shoulder, watching as Edward and Seth disappear into the woods.
The
Quileute Reservation is like another world. Everything is saturated
in sage and umber, giant redwoods grow taller than sky scrapers and I
decide right away that I’m going to like it here.
Alice,
Leah and I get settled into our cabin- a place we share with four
other artists who haven’t arrived yet. I throw myself onto my bed
and breathe deeply, waiting for Alice and Leah to pounce.
My
girls lay beside me; both of them teasingly questioning me about
Edward. I sigh then squee, twitter pated and heart locked, at peace
but nervous at the thought of him.
Leah
snorts and pokes my belly. “He’s pretty cute, dreadlocks aside.”
“Hey!”
I poke her hard, twice. “I like the dreads. They suit him.”
It’s something I never thought I’d find attractive. I’ve heard
stories about dirty hippie boys with ratty, gross dreads but Edward’s
are just…
him. I’ve
touched and smelled them, laughed as they tickled my face. They are
soft but textured and they smell of him- a light musk, some kind of
vanilla scented shampoo, a hint of pot, but clean.
Alice
is quiet, a small smile gracing her pretty face. She shifts closer to
me and gives a reassuring squeeze. “You two are ridiculously cute
together and I agree with you about the dreads. On him, they work.”
Leah
protests with a groan and I laugh and throw a pillow at her head.
A
soft knock startles us. Alice winks at me and runs for the
door.
It’s
Edward and Seth.
They
wait while we get ourselves together and then we walk, wandering on
stone trails and well-worn foot paths. Seth, Alice and Leah
take the lead while Edward and I slowly meander a few steps behind.
Spread
out amongst the forest are large weathered barns- about a dozen of
them, each one housing a different art space, all of them armed to
the teeth with tools for a different trade. I meet so many people;
see so much creativity, that it bleeds through the walls of each
barn. The weathered façade of each building is deceiving. Beyond the
cracked wood is varying forms of inspired art and I am so engrossed,
so giddy that I am going to be a part of this.
The
raw talent I am graced to be surrounded by is intimidating at first,
but the people here are very down to earth. Their smiles are sincere
and their enthusiasm is infectious, so unlike the pretentious art
world in L.A.
Another
thing that strikes me is how quiet it is here. As we walk from barn
to barn, there is glorious silence only broken by our words
and laughter.
It’s
a breeding ground for thought, for unfettered inspiration.
We
explore for hours until our rumbling bellies demand attention. We
follow Seth as he leads us to the kitchen and I’m just about to
step into the door when Edward’s hand tightens around mine.
“Take
a walk with me?” He seems a little nervous, his brow crinkled.
My
answer is a soft kiss upon his lips to which he smirks and leads me
back to the woods. We talk as we walk, our hands swing and smiles
blaze. I’m still sort of stunned at the ease of this place, of him,
and of us.
His
passion is glass. He chats animatedly about the things he makes and
the things he loves, and I am so excited to see his work space. When
he asks what I love, I respond with one word; art.
That
tiny little word ignites my mind; loosens my tongue and I launch into
an explanation on how I express myself. I tell him of my mom and how
her finger painting 101 inspired me. I explain how a shortage of
money forced me to think outside the box.
He's
intrigued by my explanation of
found art.
With little money to buy supplies, I'm used to going without or
making my own. I forage junk yards, flea markets and occasionally the
trash until I find something that catches my eye. I purposely choose
things I think are ugly and then I use whatever I can to make them
beautiful.
“We’re
here,” he gestures to what I’m guessing is the glass furnace. The
structure is much smaller than the others- half done in wood and half
done in stone.
When
I step forward Edward grabs my arm, pulls me back toward him. He
gives me a smirk then a kiss on my temple. “I wanted to show you
where I work, but maybe another time.”
I
frown a little, curious and confused. “Another time?”
“I
can’t believe I didn’t think of this before,” he laughs
lightly, his gaze dropping to my feet. “You’re barefoot.”
I
frown ever deeper. I can’t go walking around a glass furnace
with no shoes on! I groan at my own stupidity. “Shit, I’m
so sorry. I didn’t think...”
Edward’s
still smiling, his arms encircling me. “Well... I could carry
you.”
His
eyes are playful as he pulls away, turning and crouching low before
he says, “Hop on.”
I
don’t hesitate. I love that he offers to carry me. The
gesture is so sweet and it means that I’m close to him, touching
him, smelling him. I love the fact that for the first time as an
adult, I’m getting a piggy back ride.
I
hold on tight and rest my chin on his shoulder as we head to the
barn. There is a mess of shelves that line one side of the building
holding works made of glass in a riot of bright colors. Edward points
out Seth’s pieces, showing me the telltale signs of a Seth
Clearwater design. Seth has an affinity for darker colors
but he always includes a swirl of periwinkle in every piece he makes.
He
takes us through the door and I’m stunned by the heat inside. On
the far side of the wall is the furnace or the hot end, as Edward
calls it. It is filled with molten glass that looks like lava
and I’m mesmerized by it. It’s hard to imagine how this
crazy hot oozing substance can become a delicate work of art and I am
way anxious to see how it’s done. I silently vow to always wear
shoes from now on.
Edward
places me down on the work space counter top, my feet swinging above
the floor. He turns slowly and takes my right foot, his hand wrapping
around it and guiding it around his hips as he steps between my legs,
doing the same with my left foot until my legs are wrapped around
him.
Suddenly
it’s sweltering in here and I can’t focus on anything other than
how close together our bodies are. His hands start at the top of my
feet, slowly traveling around my calves then my knees, his fingertips
brushing tenderly over the outside of my thighs. He leans into to
kiss me and it is so sweet- tiny peppered kisses to my jaw. His lips
press just below my ear and I slide my hand around his back and
shudder as I feel his mouth on my neck, instinctively pulling him
closer.
He
holds me tight, his body
so close
to mine- touching
everywhere but...it’s all heart,
like lust was pushed aside for something more. His lips hover;
washing hot and heavy breaths on my skin. I
feel over-sensitive and flushed. My mind stutters over how good this
feels, how right and
at the same time, I am simply spun over how fast this is happening. I
look at the ink on his arms, the vivid almost violent waves that
crest and crash and I feel like that’s us- a storm that came out of
nowhere, fierce but beautiful.
My
heart is beating fast again and his is too, I can feel it. We
stay here hugging tight, wrapped up in each other and simply trying
to take it all in and feel it out. Our words are few, our
stares are constant, and our tickles, whispers and laughter ring out,
intertwining in the silence that surrounds us here.
I
think I love this boy.
I
think I fall in love him over and over again every time our eyes
meet.
~O~
This
is the summer that I wanted to experience something new and exciting.
This was supposed to be a time to journey, a time to discover, and
here in La Push, I’ve done far more than that. The summer sun
shimmers and shines, the pacific rain is far more present than I
thought it would be but it never brings me down. It cools my heated
skin, soaks my hair and I bask in it all.
Daytime
brings my hands and mind to life with paint and clay. The smoky
haze that was so prevalent on the bus ride here doesn’t exist
during the daylight hours. I like getting high, love the freedom I
feel when floating, but when it comes to creating I want a clear head
and steady hand. I’m over-the-moon delighted that Edward
feels the same way. He never partakes in herb before he goes to the
glass furnace, the red-orange magma glass commands respect and Edward
gives it his full, sober attention. It makes me smile that he
takes it seriously, that he cares about himself. It makes me
light-heartedly giddy and it makes me swoon.
The
dark of night is an entirely different scene. There is smoke, and
there is a homemade moonshine that will light you up with one big red
cup. It’s a break from all the seriousness. It’s beach
bonfires and acoustic guitars. It’s a time for chilling with my
girls and my boy.
I
sit with a blanket draped over my front, leaning back into Edward.
Leah and Seth are next to us shoulder to shoulder while Leah sings
her heart out. Alice is next to Leah, her eyes enraptured by the
blond surfer boy who is playing guitar. That’s her crush, Jasper.
He’s mellow and cool, like the opposite of Alice in every way but
somehow they totally work, they balance each other out in a way that
is just perfect.
Edward
hits the blunt and leans into me, exhaling while I inhale his
sweet shotgun smoke, holding it in and savoring it because it’s
been inside him. He passes it to Seth and then squeezes me
tight, leaning in to kiss my cheek, my jaw, and my lips.
We
stare into the driftwood flames of green and blue and I reflect on
today- the last day of summer. We spent the morning fishing for
fresh seafood and then Edward and Jasper spent hours making the best
paella I have ever tasted. It was sunny today, not a single drop of
rain to cool us so we went swimming instead. This afternoon the
barns were not for creating, but showplaces, every wall filled to the
brim with paintings and drawings, every table top littered with
sculptures made of glass, clay, paper or metal. It was a treasure
trove of color and composition, of special pieces out for display.
Meandering
through the barns today was a trip, so many pieces made me smile,
made me remember the artist or inspiration for the piece. Memories
laced in good times looped around in my mind, especially when we
toured the glass furnace. I studied all of Edward’s pieces- even
though I’d seen them all before, and I could spot all of Seth’s
work, a tiny periwinkle swirl hidden on every one.
It
was also extremely fulfilling to see my own completed work, and I
felt proud of what I’d done. I’d even managed to score two
commissioned works. Among the residents that toured the barns were
buyers; art lovers, collectors and designers. Two of them loved my
chandelier-made from used plastic water bottles- so much they want to
buy one.
I
was blissfully high today, stupid-giddy-floating but not with sweet
smoke, with spun glass and twinkling lights, tripping on the
confidence that came in the form of accomplishment. Having vowed to
devote my life to the art I love had been a hard decision. Many
artists struggle to make a living and that was something of a concern
after I graduated. Today, for the first time...I felt as though a
path was forming- one that would shape my life.
Before
I came here, aspirations for my future were so uncertain, wobbling in
simple indecision. Coming to La Push changed my life, brought my
hopes and dreams to a reachable place, somewhere tangible and within
my grasp.
I
fucking love it here. The thought of leaving makes my eyes
water, makes my shoulders shake a little. For every moment, I have a
precious memory and as I sit back, losing myself in recollections, I
realize that so many of my thoughts revolve around Edward. From the
moment I saw him in the back of the bus, I knew-
just knew- that
he was it for me. He has taken this experience and brought it
to a whole new level of wonderful, but for every time he's touched
me, every time we’ve stolen kisses, we've never talked about what
will happen once the summer ends.
I’m
distracted by the sound of Alice and Jasper playing in the gentle
surf. Seth and Leah are saying goodbyes and walking away hand in
hand, leaving Edward and I left to gaze out over the water.
He
kisses my shoulder, lips lingering and squeezes me.
I
revel in the here and now, trying so hard to just enjoy it, to not
think of tomorrow.
I
close my eyes and feel tears stream down my cheeks. He releases
me and I hold my breath only to exhale when I feel something cool on
my chest. I look down to see a tear-drop shaped piece of glass
attached to a thin black cord which Edward has draped around my neck.
I lift it up, using the light of the fire to see.
It’s
clear glass, absolutely pristine, no bubbles, and no imperfections.
Encapsulated inside is what looks like a wave of blood red
smoke that criss-crosses and then loops around like the symbol for
infinity.
Another
tear falls and I wipe it away. I throw the blanket off and turn to
face him, straddling him.
One
look into his beautiful eyes and I smile and say, “I love you.”
It's
not the first time I've said it but somehow this is different.
My voice is shaky, more rogue tears falling from my eyes. Looking
him over I notice he has a matching necklace which I touch, I take it
in my fist and squeeze it, wondering if mine is some sort of parting
gift.
I
meet his gaze and suck in a breath, shocked, stupefied. His watery
eyes threaten to spill over and I am so fucking scared that this is
it, our last night together.
He
puts his hands on my cheeks, his thumbs wiping away my tears. “I
love you too, so much.”
When
he kisses me it’s soft and slow, it’s pleasure and pain. His
tears burn me, brand me, scar me. I can’t stand to see him cry.
“I
need you,” he says, his voice desperate, his hands so needy as they
run down my back and under my sundress. He grips me hard, pulling my
body toward him and holding me there. I kiss him with everything I
have, crushing my lips to his.
He
responds in kind, his mouth hot and urgent, and his arms in an
unbreakable hold around me. My head is spinning; my body
suddenly ignites under his touch. He breaks away but only to take my
discarded blanket and spread it out. I move to sit down and he stops
me, kissing me deeply. He removes my dress and tosses it aside then
kneels before me and removes my panties.
His
arms wrap around me resting his head on my stomach. When he looks up
at me I bite my lip, my emotions in complete upheaval. I need him
too, so much that I can’t speak. I feel like I should be nervous,
completely bare on this beach but I’m not. Right now, I don’t
care if anyone sees us. I only care about making the most of this
moment, of him. God, how I want him.
Sliding
his hands around my hips, he kisses my belly button, his fingers
slowly roaming with the lightest, most reverent touches.
I
take his hand in mine and kiss his knuckles and the pad of his thumb.
I kneel too, needing to see his eyes, wanting to sink into them and
drown in the love I see there.
I
fist his shirt and tug roughly, wanting it off
now.
Shirtless,
he looks at me with hungry eyes, lust radiating in his stare,
love leaking
out of his every pore as he touches me. His rough fingertips
wander my body and I arch into him, panting, shuddering.
“You
are fucking beautiful,” he says as he drags his palm across the
swell of my breasts, his thumbs teasing my nipples, “and soft, you
are so soft.”
I
run my fingers over his bicep, tracing the waves, memorizing every
line, every burst of color. I kiss his chest and work my way up his
neck as my fingers work his shorts down.
We
are naked under a full moon sky, mouth to mouth in a kiss that will
be burned into my memory. His lips slide over mine, gentle at first
and then demanding. I clutch onto to him, gasping for breath in
between kisses, and I can’t let go of him, I can’t.
He
guides us down to the blanket without breaking our hold. When
he tries to pull away, I protest, pulling on his shoulder. He
kisses me in response, two very sweet, chaste kisses on my lips. His
fingers slide down my stomach and in between my legs.
Oh...I
throw my head back and he rubs me there. He
knows I can’t resist his strong, talented hands.
I
whimper at every caress, slip and slide into the rise and fall of his
teasing fingers; gasp as he takes my nipple into this mouth, flicking
it with his tongue.
Eyes
squeezed shut, I shake and shiver; the world around me disappearing
and I’m melting and exploding. My voice is ragged as I call his
name and beg for more of him. I’m riding on the sublime
feeling of his fingers moving deep inside me, curling, twisting. His
other hand is on my breast, his teeth on my neck, biting hard enough
to leave a mark and it turns me on, makes me wild, drives me crazy.
It’s
so intense that a scream erupts from my mouth, my hands reach for
him, digging my nails into his shoulder. Skin
on skin, sweaty and slick as he grinds up against me.
My
chest is heaving, my body still shaking and Edward is looking down at
me, his green eyes shining and playful; a little smug too.
I
hiss when he slides his fingers slowly out then in again. Soft slow
strokes, taking me down, building me back up. Then his fingers
are replaced by his cock, hard and pressing up against my sex but not
inside. He’s taking it slow and it’s maddening, but I love the
way he is savoring this- the way he studies my every reaction, the
way he works so hard to make me feel good.
He
stares down at me for a beat and rocks his hips, sliding inside and I
moan.
“Yesssss,
I love this, love
you.
God, I love you.” Words spill from my lips, honest and
free- I let it all out.
“I
need...” my voice breaks, memories of Edward ravage my mind and I
say the only thing I can, “you. I need
you, Edward.”
He’s
staring down at me, his stare engaging, possessive.
“I
want this...” he touches my face, takes my hand and kisses my
pinkie finger, “to never end.”
He
thrusts hard but slow, circling his hips when he’s as deep as he
can go. “I want you by my side,
always.”
“Yes,”
I pant out, my eyes heavy with unshed tears. I close my eyes and
visions of
always tempt
and taunt me. I can’t imagine my life without him. Not anymore.
It’s like there is no Bella without Edward. He’s become a part of
who I am.
Letting
out a big breath, he stills, buried in me, our bodies as close as we
can get as he whispers. “I want to keep you forever.”
He
kisses my lips and swivels his hips, making me arch up into him, my
hands sliding up into his hair.
He
pulls away a bit, just enough for us to be able to look at each other
again. There is something in his stare... an intensity that both
chills and warms me. “I want to marry you, Bella, grow old with
you, and teach our children how to paint.”
My
tears flow freely- not out of sadness, but out of pure fucking joy. I
weep for his words, they break me, change me. I want all of that with
him.
All
of it. He’s everything I’ve ever wanted and there isn’t a doubt
in my mind that I’m madly in love with him.
When
I imagine my future, he
is what
I see.
“Yes,
Edward. Yes.” My words come out breathlessly, I almost laugh
because his words make me so fucking happy.
His
hips start moving fast, his eyes on mine and the pure connection I
feel to him is coursing through me, cutting into my heart, carving
out a piece of my soul- just for him.
He’s
making these sounds...raw little whimpers as he buries his head into
my neck and finds his release. I squeeze him so tightly, my
hips rocking slowly to bring him down easy.
We
hold each other; catching our breath, and he shifts and lays beside
me. I put my hand on his chest and splay my fingers out, feeling his
heart beating, just as fast as mine.
It
all seems too perfect, surreal in this peace and love coursing
through my entire being. He’s staring at our hands, fingers
intertwined, pinkies locked together. He lifts my mine and kisses
it, his rough lips to my smooth palm. I curl my fingers around his
jaw and scratch gently.
Edward
loves to be scratched; he gives a sound that’s like a purr and a
whimper. He closes his eyes and leans toward me, into me and I pull
him down into a kiss. I use both hands and cup his jaw, my
nails gently raking across his skin. As we fall deeper, tongues
laving and dancing, I slide my hands behind his ears, holding his
head to mine. I want to anchor him here, with me- like this. I don’t
want him to ever let me go.
“Yes?”
he asks all shy and cute, his heavy lidded eyes sparkling.
“Yes,”
I don’t hesitate in my response, giving him a slow massaging
scratch.
He
presses his forehead to mine and blows out a great big breath. “I
have been going crazy thinking that you would get on that bus
tomorrow and I’d never see you again.”
“Me
too,” I confess. “I was so scared...”
He
kisses my temple and asks, “Stay here with me?”
My
eyes go wide, unadulterated glee lights up my face and elation
bubbling in my chest. “You’re staying
here?”
My
mind whirls in possibilities. I imagine living here with Edward,
spending my days immersed in this community- which I have come to
cherish.
He
nods. “I have an open invitation from Seth. His sister Rachel is
moving to Hawaii next week, and he told me I could crash at her
house. I know it was presumptuous, but I asked him if you could
stay too, with me.”
“Really?”
I’m smiling so big my cheeks hurt. I’m blown away. I’m up in
the clouds. Can this really be happening?
His
smile is bigger than mine. “Yes,” he whispers against my lips,
his kiss so sweet, his excitement so evident that I squee and hug
him, kiss, hold and love him.
“Yes,
yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!”
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