Sleep Talk Torture
"Sleep, Bella," I whispered into her lips as I pulled away, kissing her closed lids. She whimpered softly, reaching for my lips with hers again. "Come on, you need your sleep. It's 2 a.m.!"
"I don't care," she said, trying to press her body up into me, yet again. "I'm not sleepy, I just want more of you!"
"I know, Bella, I know. I feel the same...but you've got to get some sleep sometime. I keep you up nearly every night and you end up so tired the next day...just sleep now." I pulled her close to my chest, kissed her hair, and sighed. She was so completely and utterly desirable, it was almost painful. And we were probably in the running for some sort of marathon make out record. Every night, for over an hour...it was making us both crazy with frustration and it was always me pulling away. Always. Always me reigning in the passion. The master of control.
Maybe I was a masochist. I lay here every night after our heavy breaths had slowed, after she had drifted off to sleep, after listening to the torturously wonderful way she said my name in her sleep. All for the chance to be near her, to be close to her, to feel complete as I did only in her arms. Some nights during which I ended up inadvertently testing my self control as she shifted atop me, at times unknowingly brushing against my thighs, my lower abdomen, or sometimes the place I desired her to touch most. It was, at times...unbearable. Those were the moments I stole myself away to the opposite end of the room to perch in the rocking chair, attempting to regain composure. Or I would determine it the right time to run home and change my clothes. Or hunt.
But there were times when I made the wrong decision, the one that never turned out well. That would be when I made the decision to stay where I was, let her touch me unconsciously, let her hands and torso and legs wander where they may. I told myself it was a good test of self control, but in truth I knew I was just taking advantage of the situation and my innocent bride-to-be. I was so yearning for something...more than what I would let her consciously do, I was willing to chance all of my willpower to let it happen in her unconscious. I am a horrible, horrible person. Well, not really a person, but surely not the gentleman I strived to be. Those nights I had to grit my teeth, try to keep my mind from exploring the possibilities too far ahead, and focus on how to let her touch me and not loose myself to my desire.
Then there were times that she didn't squirm unknowingly. These were the nights where I held her, so close, and day dreamed. "Day" dreaming not really the appropriate term, as it was usually at night, but dreaming awake all the same. I dreamed about making her moan my name awake the way she often did while sleeping. I dreamed of undressing her, slowly, her secrets revealing themselves to only me. I dreamed of being able to touch every inch of her and feel her body against mine skin to skin. I dreamed of the incredible thrill it would be to kiss her, open-mouthed, breathe her in, touch her tongue with mine, the simplest of intimate romantic gestures that I could not bring myself to allow us to do before marriage. I focused on the things that would surely end in my willpower cracking and taking her virginity on the spot. These dreams always ended in my version of the "cold shower" - running home to change my clothes, sometimes running a lot longer than I needed to, just to get her out of my brain fogged with dreams and smells and desires and things that could not be.
I tried to avoid my home until I could refocus my thoughts. Regardless of Jasper's discretion when it came to others' feelings, I didn't deem it fair to him to run into the house with lust and frustration coursing through me. I knew the effect I'd had on him in the past, when I first started seeing Bella and those feelings came to life for me after a century of evasion. He never cursed me or blamed me for it, but after a few weeks, I did hear Alice's thoughts urging me to keep a distance from time to time so she could avoid...how did she put it?..."having to call into school sore".
Tonight, however, was my favorite kind of night. She was especially verbal and descriptive with her sleep chatter this evening. These were the moments I wouldn't miss for the world - the uncensored Bella. She started out with the usual jabber, mentioning words that reflected her experiences during the day: "lasagna, Charlie...yes, vegetable...cholesterol. Too much lace, Alice. No, no...no tiaras, come on!" Then a frustrated sigh, then silence for awhile.
Then, her breathing started to speed up – so much so that I wondered if she were waking up. Her body temperature went up and she started to mumble, "Mmmm, Edward. Oh, please, I love that, please!" What? What does she love? Oh, my. My body was reacting to the possible meaning of her words. I had to believe that's not what she was dreaming about, regardless of the tone associated with it. Maybe she was talking about her wedding band. Yes, that could be it. She hadn't seen it yet and maybe it would surprise her and she would love it so much she would be begging to have it on.
"Oh, yes, Edward. Yes, right there, please, please don't stop. I love you, oh I...I love you," she whimpered. I was starting to panic. She just whimpered the words "please don't stop".
She's not talking about a ring. OH holy hell, I should've left earlier. And then I smelled it. Oh, god, that smell was enough to turn me inside out. It was mesmerizing. It almost seemed to put me in a haze. I had smelled it before, but each time she had been awake, and it had been masked by the thick material of her ever-present jeans. I had always been able to take my leave before it got to me. Now, this was not possible. She had shifted since she'd fallen asleep and was planted firmly with half her body on top of me - her head on my chest, one arm thrown over my torso, one leg between mine. I could feel her pulse in her femoral artery throbbing against my thigh, and I could feel...the heat coming from between her legs, pressing into me through her thin pajama pants.
Okay, just stop breathing. No reason to breathe. Not having a conversation, so no reason to breathe. I can hold my breath indefinitely; now, how to get the warm inviting feeling away from my thigh, this was going to be tricky. The most frightening part about this whole scenario is that I don't WANT to leave. I wanted to stay, to hear what else she has to say, to hear her most intimate thoughts about...well, the most intimate of situations. I wanted to know where "right there" was. I wanted to know what she didn't want me to stop doing in her dream. I wanted to know what she wanted, what she liked, what she dreamed about doing so that I was prepared on our wedding night.
And then, I broke my own rule. "Where is right there, Bella?" I whispered, ashamed the minute it came out of my mouth. And then, by some miracle or curse, she answered:
"My calves. I love it when you run your smooth hands up and down my calves." I felt my insides start to pull taught. The idea of running my hands up and down her calves made my breathing start again, with a fury. This was a bad thing, as the smell of her arousal hit me again like a brick wall. The mental image I had of myself touching her calves and knowing now how much she liked that particular part of her body to be touched brought on another wave of my own arousal. Mentally noting that I would have to try it out and see if she really did favor being touched in this way, I stupidly asked:
"And what do you not want me to stop doing?"
"Don't stop rubbing my nipples, it's so divine."
The erection that had come on the minute she had muttered "Mmmm, Edward" at the beginning of her breathy rant was now trying to bust its way out of my jeans. Did she just say "nipples"? If vampires could faint, I would be doing it now. All the blood would have left my head at that word. Swallowing hard, I realized I was in over my head. I had to get out of her before this went any farther. I had to get away from that scent, her words, the frustration that was left over from the earlier make out session, and the things her answers to my questions were doing to my body now.
I slipped out from under her as stealthily as I could, but disrupting her slightly nonetheless. She was still dreaming, but was now looking disappointed, and whimpered, "Oh! You stopped, like you always do. Urgh!" It made me unreasonably sad that I had frustrated her now twice tonight, even if one time was in her dream.
"Shhh, love, stay still and I will slowly drag my fingertips over your..." I hestiated, and gulped, "calves." I kissed her forehead, and quickly made my way toward the window.
"Mmmm, okay, I love that..." she smiled into her pillow, as I hopped out the window.