Disclaimer: I am not Stephenie Meyer nor do I own the copyright to Twilight...wouldn't mind if I did though...

A little fluffy smutt that's been in my head for weeks and is preventing my progress on "It's Better When I Bleed For You"...grrr...So I've written it and it's 1:11AM in the morning and I have to work tomorrow (well, today I guess), so if it sucks, that's why. Hopefully it might buy me a little more time for IBWIBFY though...

You Could Be Mine - Part I

"Um…Edward?" Her voice was barely a whisper through the closed door and I was across the room in an instant, fearing she'd somehow managed to hurt herself.

"Are you all right?" I asked, my voice a little louder to reach her less-sensitive, human ears.

"Fine," she said softly, opening the door. I looked at her closely, making sure. She was still in the gown, a bashful smile on her face as she stepped out of the bathroom. "It's just…" She took another couple of steps past me, back into the room. I turned to watch, unable to tear my eyes away. She gathered all of her soft curls over her left shoulder. "It took both Alice and Rosalie to get me into this." Her heart was singing like a humming bird's as she peeked over her shoulder at me, inviting red staining her cheeks even more. "I think I'm going to need some help."

It took me a moment of scattered concentration to comprehend what she had said. The effect she had on me was incredible…just beyond description. I'd never experienced so many moments of dumbfounded inactivity before I'd met her. She was the only person on this planet that could affect me like this, even over such a simple request.

But it was only a moment.

I smiled, delighting in the sound of her heart skipping a beat before continuing its beautiful song. She turned her face away as I came up behind her, gently brushing a few stray strands away from her neck to join the rest. I bent down to press my lips against the warm skin before stepping back slightly so I could reach the fastenings on the gown.

It was a struggle to control my hands enough to go slow, to be gentle. Never, in all our time together, had I ever wanted so badly to just rip the clothes from her body. As terrified as I was about what was about to happen, I was ready for it. Hell, I was more than ready, I was eager for it. Ever since the day I had given her the option and she had chosen to wait, it had been a struggle to abstain. I think I had managed to hide it rather well, but there had been times when I had slipped and she'd had to rein me in. At the time, I had been internally cursing myself for ever bringing up the whole virtue topic, wishing she would just relent to the need that I knew was consuming her as much as it was me. But I was glad she hadn't.

Because I wanted this night to be special for her. She'd married me, given me the only thing I wanted besides her. Now it was my turn.

There was still every chance I could slip, though, no matter how badly I wanted to give her this, this one human experience that she wasn't willing to give up. And that was what terrified me. Her trust in me was overwhelming and I wanted to believe I couldn't hurt her, as she did. But just one second was all it would take.

I pulled on the thin ribbon at the small of her back, taking my time to unthread it. She stood still, her body vibrating slightly with each powerful pump of her heart. Slowly, I undid the hidden hooks, watching the material part like it was a miracle, revealing the smooth, warm, flawless skin of her back. Her breathing was becoming more uneven with every breath, and I knew she could feel the electricity that was burning through my body. I reached out slowly, sliding my fingers from the nape of her neck to the small of her back. Her breath hitched in reaction to the coolness of my hands, her back arching away from my hands for a moment before coming back to press against them.

I smiled, bending forward, tracing the curve of her ear with my nose as I slid my hands under the white satin, finding the modest curves of her waist. She was gasping, all but panting for breath while my hands slid up, my fingertips tracing the gentle rise of her breasts.

Her heartbeat stopped.

I froze, but a second later it was pounding away furiously again, struggling to supply her body with enough oxygen before she collapsed.

"Edward," she whispered. The desire in her voice made my body sing.

I pressed another kiss into her neck, then turned her around. She stared up at me, her brown eyes, my only gateway to her unreachable mind, telling me everything I wanted to know. Smiling, I kissed her, slowly, gently.

She snarled at me.

Chuckling, I pulled away. She glared up at me.

"Stop teasing me."

Her voice was supposed to threatening, I'm sure. But it came out as a husky whisper, and I couldn't tell which was more arousing—her snarl or her voice.

My own breath was becoming unsteady now as my body began demanding to do more than undress her. But I kept it in check. I wanted to hear her snarl again and I knew she wouldn't do it, even if I asked nicely. So I would have to coax it from her.

I picked up one of her arms, tenderly. I turned it so I could get to the tiny satin buttons that ran up the length of her forearm. Slowly, carefully, I undid one button at a time. I could feel her watching me as I watched what I was doing. I couldn't trust myself to look in her eyes and not tear off the wedding gown. I wanted her too much, needed her too much. The sound of her, the scent of her…I wanted all of it.

But I wanted that snarl, too.

Calling on my decades of self-control, I forced myself to appear calm and collected. I knew it frustrated her when I didn't let her see the effect she had on me. Once I was finished with the buttons, I trailed my fingers up the inside of her arm, smiling at the hitch in her breathing again, before tenderly kissing my way up her arm. I pressed my lips to the inside of her elbow.

I lifted my head.

"Breathe, Bella," I whispered. I could hear the change in my own voice—it had deepened and taken on its own huskiness. "We can't do this if you don't breathe."

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She kept her eyes closed as I went to work on the other sleeve, pausing to kiss the golden band on her finger. I followed the same process, undoing the buttons, kissing my way up her arm. This time when I lifted my head, I went straight to her mouth, sliding my hand around her neck as I kissed her. Carefully, I gave her my tongue and was rewarded with soft moan as she met it with her own.

I received my second snarl as I withdrew.

"Remind me never to let you undress me again," she muttered breathlessly, her eyes still closed.

I laughed softly, sliding my hands up the exposed skin of her back. Her breath hissed and she clutched at my shirt.

"You're enjoying it," I told her, my fingers catching the satin and pulling it off her shoulders. Her eyes snapped open and met mine, burning intensely. I held the contact as I pulled the gown down, letting it fall with a soft rustle to pool around her feet. Still watching her eyes, I took her hand and led her to step out of the gown completely.

She lifted her shoulder slightly, a nervous habit, and dropped her eyes, suddenly shy, her heartbeat humming. I felt the corner of my mouth lift at her modesty, but I refused to look any lower than her eye level as I slipped my fingers beneath her chin to bring her eyes back to mine. Why such a creature should be modest, I'll never know. But I smiled at her, knowing every ounce of love I felt for her was reflected in that smile. I waited until I received an answering smile, just a small quirk of her lips, before I let my eyes fall.

She was exquisite—the smooth column of her throat, the gentle rise of her breasts, the flat line of her stomach, the modest curves of her waist, the creamy skin of her thighs—absolutely exquisite. I let my eyes travel slowly, drinking in the sight. I knew it was making her uncomfortable, but I couldn't help it. She was more than I'd ever dared to dream.

She tugged on my hand. Reluctantly, I lifted my eyes from her body, back to her face.

She was blushing, furiously. I couldn't help but chuckle. For some reason, her shyness was amusing to me. Perhaps because I really couldn't understand what she had to be shy about. I had never seen anyone so perfect before.

Before she could become offended by my laughter, I lent down to kiss her. Pressing my forehead to hers, I whispered, "You're beautiful."

I trailed kisses down her cheek, along her jaw and down her neck. Her breath was hot in my ear as her hands pulled at my shirt. I straightened to pull it over my head in one swift movement before diving back in for another kiss, groaning when her small, warm hands slid over the muscles of my chest.

I didn't want to wait anymore. Picking her up without breaking the kiss, I carried her the five short steps to the bed, then pressed her back against the pillows, positioning myself on top of her, carefully. One of her hands was tangled in my hair, the other leaving a scorching trail where her fingers danced across the skin of my waist.

I pulled away for a moment, coming up to kneel above her while I slid the last barrier on her body down her slender legs, and shedding my own pants. As I went to reposition myself, she manoeuvred herself so I ended up between her legs…right where I wanted to be.

Her heat was everywhere, magnifying her scent, the scent of her arousal. I felt a growl rumbling in my chest as I buried my face in her neck. We hadn't even done anything yet and it was feeling too good. I wanted to explore, to take my time to taste every inch of her warm, delicate body, but I was worried I wouldn't have enough control to deliver good on my promise if I did. Already, I could feel a faint stirring of thirst burning at the back of my throat.

It frightened me.

I lifted my head from her neck to look at her. "Bella…"

There was a slight smile on her beautiful face, one corner of her delectable mouth lifted. When she opened her eyes, they were so full of love, so full of trust, that I couldn't find the words to tell her.

But I didn't need to. The small smile appeared as she lifted her hands to cup my face. She raised herself enough to press her lips to mine in a soft, painfully tender kiss. When she pulled away, all she whispered into my ear was three simple words.

"I love you."

I could do this. I would do this. For her.