I am so sorry it took so long to update! Shouldn't happen again, I apologize. And, by request, the beginning of this shall be in Edward's POV. But just the stuff we already knew in Bella's POV.

Disclaimer: Obviously the dialogue that seems eerily familiar to that in Breaking Dawn does not belong to me.

Edward's POV

On occasion, it is very easy to believe that the entire world is out to forsake me. To undermine my plans, no matter how vital it was that I follow through with them. Thinking about it, I'd never had plans before meeting Bella Swan. I'd never had goals. I'd never had anything to worry about.

I'd never had anything to care for enough to even warrant any of those things.

But now I did have someone to care for, and, as it always was, Bella's safety was the factor at risk. It was the reason I had to uphold my promise to not make love with her again until she was changed. I had already harmed her once. I would not do it again.

I would never lie to myself and pretend it was an easy choice, though, to resist her. Sometimes, when I would get too lost in my lustful thoughts and my perfect memory of her body beneath mine, her reverent, blissed gaze, and her breathy voice in my ear, whispering my name and "Hold me…hold me…" over and over again, I would feel the pieces begin to crack in my resistance. At that point, I would have to force myself to draw upon the memory of her freshly bruised and battered body until fear and self-hate consumed me whole and made it an easy thing to turn away. I had tainted a beautiful thing. I had marked white with black. I had broken an angel.

Never again.

However, my sister and my wife - a thrill went through me, as always when I thought of that glorious reality - combined just loved to prey upon and exploit my weakness toward her; her desires and her body and her love.

It made me gnash my teeth together in frustration when Bella wasn't looking.

Mostly the fact that I couldn't stop looking at her…and that was definitely not helping anything.

Apparently, my sister had seen to it that it would be easier to list the articles of clothing in Bella's luggage that were appropriate, versus those that I would kill another man if they were to ever see her in. They were for my eyes only.

Which would all be good and well if our love-making had been successful. As I had feared, though, it was not; now the only use of her scanty clothes were to drive me insane with want - a memory of what had been and a knowledge of what could be.

But no. I wouldn't give in.

In an attempt to distract her - or at the very least, wear her out - I was spending all of my time finding ways to entertain her on the island so the issue of sex could be avoided. Bella wasn't making it easy for me, naturally - she pouted, and scowled at me, and sometimes looked so downright miserable in the few moments when I gave her enough of a break from activities to think about it, that it was only bringing up the haunting vision of her black and blue body that stopped me from giving in to her wishes. And though they were healing, sometimes the sight of a yellowish marring of her beautiful, perfect, pale skin would be enough as well.

It made me wish sometimes - abstractly and in far away thoughts - that she didn't love me nearly so much as she did. That she wasn't so ready to forgive all my wrongs. If it weren't for those things, maybe she would've been able to look at her own body in the mirror and be disgusted by me instead of the feathers stuck in her hair. Maybe she wouldn't try to push me so hard to make love to her again. Maybe she wouldn't have enjoyed it at all to begin with.

The ideas were horrific in the pain that they brought - despite how foolish her decisions and feelings toward me might be, I would loathe to give them up. It just might kill me. But if only she would take in her own safety more…maybe…maybe…I didn't know what I wanted really, or how I wanted her to feel. I wasn't sure what was right completely, and what I needed. All I wished for was for her body to never look like that again - and certainly not at my hands.

And still, and still…she was often able to distract me from my dark thoughts such as those. On an island, it would've made no sense for us to never go swimming. Many of my activities revolved around it, in fact.

And then I started to see Bella's "swimsuits". If you could even call them that. They barely covered enough skin to be called scraps of fabric. Alice must hate me. I would have to mend ties with her when we returned.

It wasn't so bad in the beginning. The bruises distracted from my lust. But then they started to heal.

And I was left quite defenseless.

The first time it had really been effective on me was a few days after the disastrous incident. Her body was far along in the healing process and she emerged from the bathroom in the morning in her bikini for the day. It was all I could do to keep my face composed enough to try to prevent any ideas from entering her head.

I cursed under my breath. Blue. Alice knew what that color did to me on Bella's skin. Her top mostly consisted of strings. Strings over her shoulders, strings coming from the sides to tie in the back, a long string in between her breasts to connect the two measly bits of fabric that left basically nothing to the imagination - and yet just enough to leave me yearning, my memory taking over for me. Strings. Easily broken, effortlessly snapped strings…

And her bottoms. Strings again, connecting the measly triangle of fabric covering her pubic area around her hips to the back, where…it was a G-string.

Oh…fu -

"Do you like it?" Bella laughed after her little spin where she had stumbled just slightly, her breasts bouncing. My fists were clenched so hard I was sure they were going to fold in and collapse on themselves.

I managed to nod before distracting her with chatter about my plans for the day.

It was worse in the water, where her body flowed and moved effortlessly, unrestricted; like a sensual siren…calling out to me constantly.

I'm a man at the bottom of everything. And this just wasn't fair.

It wasn't just her "swimwear" either. In a further attempt to dislodge me from my rule, she had forsaken the old nightwear of her ideal comfortable clothing - sweats and a baggy t-shirt - for the nightly lingerie Alice had packed. I cursed my sister every night.

She was only wearing the satiny slips that hugged her frame and truly didn't show nearly so much of her skin as the bikinis though. This was both easier and harder. Easier because at least more skin was covered up. And harder because more skin was covered up. It made me yearn for more.

And the knowledge that I could have it, anytime I wanted…was the hardest thing of all.

I'm sure Bella thought I was resisting her quite easily though. I somehow managed to maintain an outward composure to the ivory satins, despite my inner turmoil.

But I should have known this relative "peace" (if one could even call it that) wouldn't last. A week had lapsed since arriving on the island before my beloved, in her desperation to sway me, finally pulled out a more heavily equipped arsenal than even I knew she to have.

Bella, as usual, was taking her ritualistic nightly human moment, and I waited in the bed for her. I heard the shower turn off, but it was still many minutes before the door opened. I wasn't too concerned - she'd been taking longer in the bathroom at night this week, no doubt because of her new wardrobe.

But what I certainly did not expect was for my wife - that same thrill - to step out of the bathroom in what can only be described as the most sinful scraps of lace I have ever seen in my life.

It was no surprise that my eyes popped and my jaw dropped before I was able to control it. Her pale skin was luminescent…perfect against the dark black of the lingerie. Her generous and immaculate breasts were featured more prominently in the lace, which formed a dark yet still see-through cover over her creamy mounds. It left nothing yet everything to the imagination. And her underwear. Bunches of lace ruffled together on her hips, elongating her legs and making them seem even smoother. Her flat stomach and curves called out to me.

A goddess. A vixen. A seductress.

"What do you think?" she asked with seeming innocence, doing a perfect pirouette in which she did not stumble, unlike the time with her bathing suit, which made me suspicious on whether it was accidental that time or not. I got a perfect view of her round, full bottom, the bottom of her cheeks looking delightfully adorable and tempting at the same time. It was all I could do to hold back a groan.

I cleared my throat instead to make up for it, which was wholly unnecessary and probably added fuel to her fire because she knew how absurd it was as well as I did. I certainly didn't need to clear my throat.

I realized she was waiting on an answer, so I gave her a more innocent version of the truth. "You look beautiful," I promised her. And sexy, and oh so desirable… "You always do."

"Thanks," she said, but I heard the edge of annoyance in it, and I sighed internally, wishing I could do what she wanted of me.

But regardless of her anger, she crawled in next to me. I willingly wrapped my arms around her - happy to be useful in keeping her cool, my temperature coming in handy for once. If I was being honest with myself, it was one of the main reasons I had chosen this island for our honeymoon. Who wanted to be a liability? I knew too well what it was like.

Still…I fought harder to compose myself as I held her nearly bare form in my arms. It was so hard to be this close without really being close at all. I wanted to growl in frustration.

Not to my surprise, Bella started to speak. With this risqué outfit on, I knew she had to have something planned. "I'll make you a deal," she said, her voice bordering on sleep.

I resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of my nose. "I will not make any deals with you," I said clearly.

"You haven't even heard what I'm offering," she protested.

Oh, I had a guess. "It doesn't matter."

I heard her sigh, her warm breath caressing my skin softly, a sweet half-embrace. "Dang it. And I really wanted…Oh well."

I rolled my eyes. She was a horrible actress. And I knew what she was doing. But …my love for her was too strong. I had wanted to give her everything since I had first fallen for her. The urge was in no way lessened now - actually, it was even stronger because as her husband - a thrill - she had no excuse to stop me from spoiling her endlessly.

"All right," I conceded grudgingly. "What is it you want?"

And that's when she told me. She would stay human for longer. She would take a semester a college. She would wait. At the price of sex with me.

I was silent for a long moment. She would stay human. She would remain untainted by a monster like me, she would remain warm and alive. For what!? Me!? My physical love…

"You would wait," I repeated lowly. "You would stay human."

She was silent, and I was suddenly overcome with an intense anger. This wasn't fair! Couldn't she see I wanted to make love to her? Couldn't she see she was already teasing me into insanity? Couldn't she understand I wanted nothing more for her to stay as she was? Why? Why? I decided to get an answer.

"Why are you doing this to me?" I seethed between my teeth. "Isn't it hard enough without all of this?" I grabbed the lace bunched on her thigh to reiterate my point, and for a moment it seemed like it would be just too easy to tear it off of her and give in and end this agony. Of course it would be easy. It would be like tearing through paper…

Bruised. Black and blue. Broken. Tainted pale skin.

I relaxed my hand. "It doesn't matter. I won't make any deals with you."

And I was convinced too.

She woke up later on just to begin crying. Tears streamed down her face thickly, and it broke my dead heart to see it.

I did my best to comfort her, to chase the nightmare away only to find it wasn't a nightmare at all. And then, for some reason, she attacked me with her lips, kissing me as if her life depended on it. I was bewildered. It was happening so fast and coming from no where.

I hugged her tightly to my chest, knowing her wants and feeling agonized at my inability to fulfill them. "I can't Bella, I can't!" I begged, begged her to understand. To stop asking. Because I was the edge of my cliff. If there was one thing I couldn't stand above all things it was her tears. And I'd already been pushed again and again. I felt her body against me and the will to break loose was overpowering.

And then that one word. That one word that was my downfall, my final push into oblivion. "Please?" she pleaded back softly. "Please Edward?"

I was done. I was done and I didn't care. I would end this suffering no matter the cost. I needed her too much - and she obviously needed me. I was sick of the pain from both of us. And I couldn't even remember why I needed to stop in the moment where I gave in, groaning, and leaning down to kiss her warm, pliable, inviting lips.

I was back where I belonged.

Bella's POV

His cold mouth was urgent against my own, and euphoria swept through my body, erasing all the sorrow and agony that had coursed through me previously. My tears stopped but my cheeks still shone wet as I wrapped my arms tightly around Edward's neck, believing for a moment I had the power to keep him there.

"Edward," I moaned as he ravaged my mouth roughly, rolling over more until I was under him completely. I sighed with relief and gripped his hips between my thighs. This felt right. He fit perfectly. I was made for him as he was shaped for me. I was home again.

"Just don't cry my love," he whispered between his desperate kisses. "Please don't cry."

He released my mouth, both of us gasping, to grip my face lightly between his hands and rub his thumbs over my cheeks, wiping away the tears.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, leaning forward to kiss the hollow beneath his ear before traveling down his jaw to his neck. One of my hands went to bury itself in his hair while my other one gripped the back of his neck tightly, holding it there to my lips.

"Don't…uhn…apologize," he groaned, his breathing ragged in my ear, increasing the pace of my own. My hands and thighs gripped him tighter. "Just be happy."

"I am," I promised reverently, bringing my lips back to meet his. "I am. You make me happy."

To prove my point I rocked my body fully into his, bringing our chests into contact, and rubbing my center against his erection. I was sure he was able to feel the wetness of my desire even through his clothes, and he could definitely smell it.

I looked up at him through lidded eyes to see his own nearing a pitch black, his nostrils flared. It wasn't frightening to me though. Far from it. I bit my lip to stifle a whimper of need and want, but he didn't hold back his own groan. His eyes flickered down to my chest where my lingerie kept us from fully feeling the other.

"These have to go," he muttered huskily, mostly to himself, and before I knew it his hands had ripped off my bra and thrown it somewhere behind him. I was taken in ecstasy, a lust sweeping through me at his rough movements.

"What about these?" I teased breathlessly, rocking my hips to his again and pressing my chest against his tighter.

A low growl rumbled deep in his chest, reverberating into me as his hand gripped and tore my underwear as well like tissue paper. He followed quickly with his own pants

He let out a sigh of relief as I cried out when our bare skin met each others again fully. "Oh god…" he moaned. "I've dreamed about this, you've no idea. I missed this."

He kissed down my neck and between and all over my breasts, my arms, my stomach, my legs; worshipping my body but staying away from that place where I most wanted his mouth. I knew he couldn't now - it was too risky with his teeth. But still I lusted.

"You think it's been easy," he suddenly accused, growling it out as he caressed my body with his mouth. "You think I so easily turn away from your perfection. You've no idea. I think about your body under mine constantly. I remember the feel of your legs wrapped around my hips. I know what it's like to be inside of you…" He had traveled back up my body at this point, and his lips were at my ear when he spoke next, holding a trembling, whimpering me in his arms. "It's like nothing else. It's heaven inside you - so warm, with you holding me there in your supple embrace. You tempt me all the time, never realizing how unnecessary it is." His tongue flicked out and started to make random patterns on my neck.

"Edward," I gasped. "Please…I need you. Take me. Again."

"I'm here," he whispered. "And it's impossible to deny you - how soft and inviting you are…"

He positioned himself between my open legs, wrapped securely around his hips, and slid into me, his coldness in my heat like a lightning strike - I wanted to burn in it.

It was just like last time. Just as completely fulfilling, just as painless, just as easy. Our breathing increased speed, and as soon as he was sheathed inside all else faded from existence except for him.

"I want you," he gasped as he started to move. "I want you all the time. And that lace on you was just too much…"

I wasn't sure if he was talking to himself or I, and his talk soon became occasional mutterings that I could sometimes makes out, and sometimes not. It was all sweet nothings. I found myself crying them out too.

"God Edward!" I whimpered. "I love you…I love you…take me. Hold me."

He did not grip my arms again, but he kissed me and gently wrapped his arms around me, his lips becoming rougher in response. I was dying in pleasure.

His hips rocked into mine, and I tilted my own forward until the skin of his hips were rubbing my clit and he was hitting a spot he hadn't before, that had me crying out in pleasure; it was so intense I wanted to weep again. Edward whispered in my ear, begging me to scream his name.

And when his last few thrusts finished me off, I did as he asked and watched him come too. His eyes black with pleasure, eyelids drooped, his mouth open and his breathing ragged as his arms stretched over me, holding on to something behind me - it didn't matter.

He was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen, and I struggled to keep my eyes open as I screamed his name out in rapture.

I was a shaking, trembling, happy mess in an angel's arms.

Review please! I hope this made up for the wait. It should never be that long again.

- The Romanticidal Edwardian