A/N: So, first of all, these are Stephenie Meyer's characters – they are in no way, shape, or form my own. Also, I know I'm going to be getting comments about how the FanFic wasn't "descriptive" enough, and how, if I was going to write about their honeymoon in detail, it should have been just that – in detail. I could have written it more detailed, admittedly.

Personally, though, it would break my heart to go into crude descriptions of Bella and Edward getting it on. While it's certainly nice enough to engage in mild to relatively dirty foreplay (and subsequent mild to relatively dirty sex) in real life, it's so completely OOC for Bella and Edward. Hence, in my story, they use no guttural terms in reference to one another and do not engage in any acts even remotely resembling sexual promiscuity (sorry to all the horny kids out there, but there's no masturbating to one another or a blow-by-blow description of the encounter, or anything like that. My bad.)

ANYWAYS, that was my little rant of the day. Hope it didn't completely freak you out. I like to think I stayed as true to SM's amazing characters as possible…R&R, people.

"Forever," he agreed, and then pulled us gently into deeper water.

Holding my gaze the entire time, Edward slowly brought his mouth downwards to meet the level of my own. We kissed once, lightly; then he brought his face back again. That second kiss was rougher – more forceful. Our lips moved in unison, mine shaping themselves around his. Carefully – hesitantly – I felt his tongue poke out and trace the outline of my lips. A white-hot dart of excitement shot through me. Unthinkingly, I twisted my arms around his neck in an attempt to get closer – and then gasped aloud at the feeling of my chest pressed against his.

Edward stiffened as well, his lips immediately unresponsive. I pulled back worriedly to examine his face; his eyes were screwed tightly shut, and his mouth was a hard slash in his face. His nostrils were slightly flared.

"Edward," I whispered, horrified more for his own mental sanity than my physical safety. "Edward, I'm so sorry. It was – stupid – I shouldn't have -"

He let go of me with one hand and pressed two fingers to my mouth. I fell silent immediately.

"It's not your fault," he said, his voice slightly strained. "You just…caught me a little off-guard."

"We can stop," I said, trying to keep the bitter disappointment out of my voice. "If you're feeling thirsty -"

His eyes snapped open at that, and I nearly gasped again.

There was no bloodlust in those eyes. None at all. They were thick and warm and molten gold and captivating, and they seemed to burn with some sudden fire – but it most certainly had nothing to do with his vampiric tendencies. The intensity of his stare made my face burn, and I looked hastily downwards.

"I'm not feeling particularly thirsty," noted Edward; his voice had a strange, otherworldly tone to it that made my legs tremble beneath me. "At least, not for your blood." The hand he still had against my mouth moved now, cupping my check in his palm. "We'll just have to take it more slowly. Be more careful."

"Of course," I said immediately. Anything for him.

I looked back up, slowly, to see that he was still gazing earnestly at my face. "I was wondering -" his voice took on a sudden formal tone "- I was wondering if…if you wouldn't mind it if I…looked at you now."

I blinked confusedly. "You are looking at me now."

He cleared his throat awkwardly.

I put two and two together then, and my cheeks flushed red like never before. He'd dragged us out into water so deep that only my neck and head were visible; he'd done it to make me feel more comfortable with our utter lack of clothing.

"It's fine if you do mind," he added quickly. "I can – we can – wait until later tonight. Until we know fully how I'll react, until you're certain that you are entirely comfortable with -"

"Edward," I whispered, my voice cracking a little.

He looked at me cautiously.

"Edward," I whispered again. "I'd…I'd like you to look at me. Very much so."

Ever the gentleman, he tried not to let the excitement show in his face – but I caught a brief glimpse of it, anyways. It was as heart-stoppingly perfect as the feeling of our bodies pressed together had been.

"You're sure?" he murmured, brushing a lock of stray hair behind my ear.

I stood on my toes to press my lips to his. "I've never been more sure of anything in my entire life."

Edward nodded, took a deep breath, and propelled us back into shallower water; I was in waist-deep now, and he was exposed from mid-thigh and beyond. I wanted to look – I wanted it desperately – but I was afraid of my reaction. If I passed out this early in the procedure, I doubted Edward would let us continue.

Edward's sudden inhalation brought me back down to Earth; I'd been concentration so hard on not gawking at him that I'd completely forgotten my entire upper torso was exposed. Now my gaze snapped back up to his face, and this time, I couldn't resist an inhalation of my own. I'd thought the desire had been apparent on his face before. I was completely wrong. Misinformed. Misguided. The passion burning in his topaz eyes was so excruciatingly beautiful, it nearly blinded me.

"You are completely, iridescently flawless," he murmured, and before that familiar blush could set in, his mouth was back on mine, and he was sucking, entwining, licking both the inside and outside of my lips; all new sensations, all unfamiliar; all bringing with them a deluge of shy, newborn delight. Our tongues brushed against one another for the first time in nearly two years. This time, I wasn't the only one who moaned.

His lips wandered now, kissing either eyelid, down both cheeks, across my jaw line and down my neck. Wherever his mouth landed, he let his tongue poke out between his lips and press against my bare skin; it burned upon contact.

And suddenly he had kissed his way to the valley between my breasts, and his mouth had gone very still, lips parted directly over my skin.

"Bella," he said huskily. "I don't know if -"

But the want was burning me, coursing through my veins like a fever.

"Edward," I gasped, tightening my hold on his back and clasping him closer to me. "Do it. Please do it."

"Ah, Bella," he sighed.

"Please?"

He groaned, and I knew I had him.

Agonizingly slowly, he moved his mouth to the left. His lips brushed against my breast as he did so; it felt like someone was dragging an electric wire across my chest. He paused once he had reached the highest point of it; then, tentatively, he took it in his mouth.

The electric wire suddenly let out a surge of sparks; they popped fanatically beneath my eyelids. I saw stars.

"Oh!" I breathed.

Encouraged, he continued in his actions. His other hand moved around to my right breast – cupped it – began to knead it. My head arched back of its own accord. One hand tightened in Edward's bronze hair; the other back my own exploration of his body, tracing the muscles in his shoulders, down his lower back, across his chest – he hissed, but I continued my journey down his stomach – lower – I knew that I should stop, that I shouldn't let the want, the need, gain control of me, turn me inside out, but I couldn't help myself – I dipped still lower, running my fingers across the smooth, thin trail of hair between his hipbones that began just below his navel and ended –

And then, abruptly, we were out of the water and back on the bed, Edward positioned over me. His wet hair dripped down onto my face; his lips were heaven on mine, salty from the sea water but still flavored by the unmistakable, mouthwatering smell of Edward. The combination was irresistible.

Which, in all due respect, was probably a good thing.

He kissed me once more, then pulled back to look at me. His gaze was solemn, the majority of his thoughts irrefutably serious; on the other hand, the fiery desire in his eyes hinted at other, slightly less controlled goings-on within his head.

"Bella, love. Are you absolutely positive?"

I'd chosen that moment to glance down the length of his body for the first time. Oh, my. My eyes widened involuntarily, and I clamped my lips together, afraid to speak in case something less than proper came out. Something fairly guttural was trying to escape through my mouth, actually. I didn't give it the chance; instead of voicing my consent, I nodded furiously.

"Of course," I managed, as soon as my human mind was completely under control. "Of course, Edward! I love you more than anything in the entire world – want you more than anything else in the entire world." To prove my point, I hitched my leg up around his hip – the same move he had performed once on me. His face was a sudden flurry of spasmodic pleasure; In one fluid motion, he had brought his hips down to meet mine.

The feeling! The utter, unbelievable, inescapable, perfect feeling of him! My original plan to keep relatively silent, relatively calm, was quickly abandoned; it lay discarded somewhere on the floor, squashed beneath the bed – beneath us. Us, together. We moved in unison, and we breathed in unison, and we vocalized our feelings in complete, harmonious unison. There was no pain, nothing but Edward's arms and the tiny circle of heaven that lay within them. I basked selfishly in the heaven – and why not? It was mine, all mine. The pleasure began to build, higher and higher, more and more intense. My senses were heightened and blurred; I could hear everything better, see everything more clearly, even, if possible, feel more – and still, at the same time, it was all one swirled haze of bliss.

And then we were falling – whether we were falling upwards or downwards was yet to be determined – but falling we were, because how else could my sudden weightlessness, this sudden turning of all my internal organs into mush – be explained? My back arched, and my hands gripped his shoulders so tightly that, had he been human, I would almost certainly have left bloody fingernail gouges in his upper back. There was a vague ripping noise, but I neither knew nor cared where it came from; whatever was happening, it was happening outside of my circle of heaven, and was therefore of no importance to me. I felt my mouth open wide, but I couldn't be sure that any sound was coming out. Air was rushing in my ears, cold and hot and everything in between, pounding against my face, all across my body; showering me with torrential rains of unmarred ecstasy. From a distance, I heard his angel's voice gasping my name. We stared at one another, eyes huge as saucers, astonished and shocked and perhaps just a little frightened. There was just so much to feel.

Afterwards – when all that was left was the aftershock, and the majority of the tremors had subsided – he pulled back, pulling me up against his chest and wrapping his arms around me. I nestled into them, eyes still wide with wonder. I looked up to see that his expression was much the same. I reached up to trace the shape of his face, and he turned his head towards my hands, softly kissing every one of my fingertips.

"You're shaking," he whispered against them.

Had I been? I hadn't noticed. I wrapped myself tighter against him.

"I'm not cold," I said, and I unquestionably wasn't. "I just – it just – I can't believe -"

"I know," he murmured; his voice was still low and husky. "I always knew how much I loved you, Bella. To express it physically, though…" he trailed off. "It's an entirely different matter. Better. More real, in a way. Like signing something on paper, as opposed to voicing it aloud."

"I wasn't prepared for it," I said quietly. "I didn't think I was big enough to feel that much. All that love…"

"All that love," he echoed, tilting my chin upwards to brush a kiss across my lips. My spent-out nerves fizzled. I yawned widely.

"You've stopped shaking," he noted. "Perhaps you should sleep."

I felt another yawn coming on. "I'm tired," I admitted. "Very tired."

The cold lips pressed once more against my forehead. "Sleep, love," he whispered. "Dream happy dreams."

"I love you," I murmured drowsily.

"As do I," he said, holding me closer against him. "More than I imagined I could ever love anything." Under his breath, low and sweet, he began to hum my lullaby.

The last thing I heard before I drifted off to sleep sounded like a sudden, sharp intake of breath – a horrified, unsettling gasp. I knew I should open my eyes; knew I should ask him what was the matter. Too far gone to pursue the cause, however, I fell into a deep slumber.