Age of Edward Contest

Title: Making Mrs. Cullen

By: EdwardsLoverGir1901

Type of Edward: WWI

If you would like to see all the stories that are a part of this contest visit: The Age of Edward C2 Community:http://www(DOT)fanfiction(DOT)net/community/The_Age_of_Edward_Contest/70125/

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A/n- Okay, I read about this contest on Rosette-Cullen's profile, and I got all excited-- I had been wanting to try something like this. I really enjoyed writing this, and I hope you enjoy it! Wish me luck!

P.S- I made it a point to use a few strange, REAL words in this story-- see bottom authors note for a dictionary.

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EPOV

The soles of my shiny black shoes click-clacked on the worn city cement as I stepped off of the train-- I inhaled the misty night air, glad to have the smoky, familiar taste of Chicago on my tongue. Men in uniform were all about me, some smiling, some not, all saluting, as we all had been taught to do. I had all of my possessions from the past few months slung over my arm in a dirty, worn bag that started out nice and clean-- oh well, my uniform was tidy. The sky overhead was sprinkled with a few stars that were visible over the Chicago city lights as I began walking the familiar territory, my breath showing a little as it escaped from my mouth.

It was great to be home; I was one of the many, many soldiers returning home from the Great War. There was no telling how many men were in my same situation as of now-- young soldiers, returning for the first time tonight, many coming back to wives and families, just beginning to grow.

Me? I was coming home to a beautiful, twenty-one year-old wife of only a few months that I loved more than anything or anyone on God's green earth. That was the reason I had gone to fight, to ensure that she would be safe here. She was really something-- captivating, innocent, beautiful. She was more than beautiful; with her chocolate, waist-length curls and molten cocoa eyes, she was a feast for my senses. She hadn't been thrilled about me leaving, especially the day after our wedding; we hadn't even had a real honeymoon. Her last words to me before I left were short, yet promising. We'd been embracing tightly on our doorstep when she'd whispered:

"Come back to me in one piece, and we'll start our family."

Her eyes were live wires of passion and love, her curls whipping at her face in the cool breeze. She had kissed me deeply once more, and then squeezed me tightly before I was pulled away from her.

That was about seven months ago.

Now, here I was, very late in the year of 1919...I thought. It may have rolled into 1920 and I'd just not noticed. Anyhow, I was now turning the corner onto North Street, where our cozy little house sat in the middle of everything. The sun was getting lower and lower in the sky, turning the late evening to night, and I was getting antsy. I increased my pace, and my breathing and heart rate sped up; my breath was coming in quick puffs in front of my face, my pulse thudding in my ears. I reached the stoop in front of our house-- all of the lights were off. Perhaps she was in bed already. I looked at my watch; only 8:45. She wouldn't have retired yet. I took a long, deep, steadying breath and raised a shaking hand to knock on the door.

A moment passed. Two moments. Three. No answer. I felt my brow furrow; why wasn't she answering? I had waited seven months to come home to my wife's sweet embrace, to look her in the eyes and tell her how much I loved her. And now, here I stood, on our porch, in the dark, on my first night home. This was terrible. I sighed, but then a thought occurred to me-- what if something had happened to her? I felt my pulse quicken again, and my hands shook more.

But then, a light flicked on in the sitting room…and then the door opened…and there she was.

She was dressed in her nightgown, a knee-length garment that hugged her lovely curves. Her hair was down, reaching the middle of her back and framing her face perfectly. Her eyes were puffy and red, as if she'd been crying, and her face looked as if she'd been expecting bad news. She looked at me as if seeing me for the first time, and this truly was the first time she'd seen me as her husband, the solider, in full uniform. Suddenly, she swayed a bit, and fell onto me, unconscious.

"Bella?" My voice was worried. "Bella?"

I gave her a gentle shake, realizing that she'd just fainted. Her eyes fluttered open, and she stared at me, slack-jawed. She reached up and brushed my cheek with her warm, soft hand, trailing it down to the buttons on my heavy wool jacket and over to the patches on the wrist.

"You--You are okay…" She breathed.

We were both crying then. She rubbed her face into the side of my throat, salt water running down my neck; my own tears pattered onto the top of her head, and she sniffled. Usually, I wouldn't cry in front of a woman, but these were tears of joy and celebration--she was okay, I was okay, and we were so in love with one another. We caressed one another's faces, and I used the pads of my thumbs to wipe her tears away.

"Come inside." She pulled me into the house; it looked exactly the same as it had the day I left. The rooms were still clean, everything still bright. I noticed that her bouquet from our wedding was in a vase on the sitting room table, the dried flowers still in almost perfect condition. She approached it and picked up a single petal that had fallen from one of the blood red roses. She sniffed it, smiling at me shyly before dropping it into a bowl with several others. Up the stairs we went, and I lead her into our bedroom, looking out the window at the evening sky.

"Edward," She breathed. "I am so glad that you're okay…" More tears came to her eyes. I lifted her chin with my right index finger and kissed the tip of her lovely nose.

"Shh," I said. "No more tears, my love. I am home now."

She looked up at me, the moonlight coming through the window making her beautiful-- pale, milky white, glow. Her hand went to my jacket again, only this time, she undid the first button, and her fingers brushed the exposed skin of my nearly hairless chest. Down farther her hand still went, undoing more and more buttons. She gently slid my jacket off of my shoulders and rested it on top of our wardrobe, then pulling off my undershirt. Her tiny hands traced the muscles of my stomach and chest. She kissed my collarbone, and then made her way up to my ear.

"Do you remember what I told you before you left?" She asked.

"Yes. You told me not to die…" I was playing coy for her sake; I knew that that was what she wanted me to do.

She smirked at me. "Not that, silly." She said. "The other thing…about starting our family…"

I felt a thrill of excitement shoot up my spine. "Yes, I remember that."

She bit her full lower lip. "Well, Edward,"

"Yes, my darling?"

"I think I am ready for that."

I looked deeply into her eyes; they were nervous, but didn't say fear. She gripped the tops of my arms and pressed her body to mine. She whispered my name, and I put my hand on her lower back.

"Are you sure?" I asked.

She nodded. "I want you to make a woman out of me, Edward."

That was really all the convincing I needed; I took her hand and lead her to our modestly-sized bed and lay her right in the middle of it, the soft down comforter hugging her heavenly body. She was still the vision of heavenliness that I remembered her to be, with her soft, subtle feminine curves, full lips, round breasts. I looked at her like a scientist examining the most amazing species they'd ever laid eyes on. Virgo intacta. I thought slyly to myself. I was going to make sweet, sweet love to this woman. She was going to be mine.

"I love you." I said simply, lowering myself on top of her. I kissed her deeply, my hands sliding the nightgown's hem upwards to expose her milky thighs to me. I squeezed her upper thigh as my tongue swept over her upper lip, asking her for access to her mouth. She parted her lips, and our wet, warm tongues mingled, probing and tasting. Her moan was silenced by my mouth, and she gently tugged on the hairs on the back of my neck; I growled, my…more primal instincts taking over. I peeled her nightgown off of her, taking in her delicious form. Her breasts were perfectly rounded, centered with dark pink, erect nipples. She was shaking a little, but her eyes were fixed in a determined, sure stare into mine.

I leaned down to kiss one of the hard mounds, cupping her full breast gently; it was so perfect, so smooth… My tongue swept out and circled her nipple-- she squirmed, not used to the sensuality of all of this. This wasn't the first time for me, but it was for my angel; I certainly wasn't proud of losing my innocence to a young woman that I barely knew, prior to meeting Bella. It was sinful, wrong, technical, and uncomfortable. But I had just given over to that primal instinct-- sure, I had had no experience in that area, but my body had told me that I needed it.

I stood up to pull the blanket over her body, pulling away the rest of her under things to reveal the heated mound of her sex. It was glistening in the slight glow of the moonlight, her thighs quivering. I spent an uncertain amount of time just looking at her, all over…

Her hands went to my trousers, undoing the button with trembling fingers. She dragged them down, and I pushed them off with my feet, revealing my underwear and my…arousal. She gasped, and for a moment, I thought she was disgusted at the size of my erection, but then…I noticed that she was looking at the long scar that started at my navel and went all the way around to my hip. She traced it with her fingers, her face sickly-looking and horrified.

"Bella…"

"Why did you not tell me about this in your letters?" Her voice was sad and harsh at the same time; it stung. Her eyes never left the ugly pink mark that mutilated my skin. She just kept tracing it, back and forth, back and forth-- she had such a light, careful touch that I would have found it erotic, had it not been for the fact that my wife was nearly in tears, and that it was a very disfiguring scar. There was no telling what was going through her mind at this particular moment.

"Why?" She demanded when her fingers had reached the small, bronze patch of hair under my navel again. "How did this happen to you?"

I bit my lip, uncertain; I did not want to ruin our passionate night with my war stories. There were things that I had experienced while I was away that no lady should ever have to know. The thought of those trenches, the stacks of bodies and the cries and moans of the dying made my stomach clench. I had witnessed men being blown to bits and being shot down in nothing but cold blood, and I certainly didn't want to think about all of that now, here, where I was about to make love to my virgin wife in the hopes of conceiving a son. It was too much; before I was even able to stop them, traitor tears came to my eyes, burning and stinging at the corners. They rolled down my cheeks and chest, and I rolled over, my head resting against the many virgulate wooden pieces that made up the headboard of the bed.

"Edward?" Bella's angelic voice was wrought with strain and worry. "Please tell me."

I looked out the window: the once slightly glowing dimness had turned to absolute mesonoxian darkness. How much time had passed since I had arrived? It seemed minutes, but now time seemed to stand still as the iron shield of my secret stood between us, bulky, black, and ugly. The susurrus beating of both of our hearts could faintly be heard, if one tried hard enough to separate it from the deafening silence that inhabited the room.

"Why won't you tell me?" She cried, her own tears spilling over.

That was an excellent question-- why wouldn't I tell her, or more appropriately, why could I not tell her? We told one another everything. But, for some reason, this one secret was one thing I just couldn't make myself release to her mind. I did not want to mentally scar her with useless worry about me now that I was safely back in her arms. I shook my head to myself; I desperately wanted to tell her, but my mouth felt like clay.

"It…was…only…a little…shrapnel." I forced my lips to work with my jaw and brain to get the simple sentence out. But that simple sentence could do as much damage as the small hand grenade that had caused this, scar and all. As I had anticipated, her face was expressionless for a long moment, her mind processing, before shifting to revulsion.

"An explosive?"

"Yes."

"How close?"

I looked at her darkly where she sat, in all her naked, heavenly glory on her knees next to me in the bed. The clean, white linens were warm with our combined body heat, and I stared down at them after a moment.

"Close enough." I muttered, hoping she wouldn't hear.

She collapsed onto my chest. "Oh, Edward! You could have been killed!"

Before she could start sobbing, I put a finger to her lips, silencing her, my face and tone soft.

"But I was not. Bella, I am home. I am safe, you are safe. You do not need to worry about me anymore."

She cried a little; a very little. I think that she realized what I was saying, why I didn't want to tell her.

"I am sorry, Darling." I said.

"Why?" She whispered into my throat.

"I've ruined our night. I should have just let you sleep."

"No, you should not have." She argued playfully, trying to lighten my mood. "I was the one who provoked all of this."

I smiled and kissed her temple. "Do you still want to make love with me?" I asked.

"I am surprised that you even have to ask me that question, Edward."

She rolled, pulling me up to mount her again; I tried to brace myself as not to have all of my weight on her tiny, breakable frame. I kissed her again, my head sliding downward to her sex. I inhaled deeply, the smell of her arousal making me crazy; my erection throbbed in my boxers. I kissed her swollen bud through the dark curls, earning a sensual whimper from Bella. I looked up at her; her eyes were dark with her lust, and she stared down at me questioningly. She did not know what I was doing to her. I'd better offer an explanation.

"Bella, I am going to touch you the way no other man has touched you before." I said darkly. Another whimper earned. Planting another kiss, my tongue darted out to tease the wet, warm feminine flesh, my fingers moving slowly upwards. My tongue circled her clitoris slowly, while one of my fingers pushed into her tightness, pumping rather slowly as well, teasing her.

"Ah…ah…ah…" She panted, bending her knees to become more open to me. Two more fingers slid easily into her, pumping harder.

"Does this feel nice, Bella?" I asked.

"Mmm, ah, Edward," She groaned. I smiled sadistically into her molten, dripping core and removed my fingers. She wailed miserably, but that wail was cut off with a high pitched keening noise when I delved my tongue into her. She tasted so sweet; like some exotic fruit or sweet candy. Her hips bucked into my face, banging into my nose; on instinct, my arm held her pelvis down, but she seemed to enjoy the restraint. She was nearing the edge. I was fairly sure that Bella had never…pleasured herself…before, meaning that she had no idea what an orgasm felt like.

At that exact moment, she came apart under my mouth, and I was drowning in her juices.

"Edward!" She wailed.

She was trembling with little aftershocks of her climax as I climbed my way up her body to her face.

"Now?" I asked.

She nodded wordlessly, and I got onto my knees to pull away my boxers. Bella's eyes widened-- she had never seen a penis before, either, and unlike most men I knew, I was uncircumcised. I positioned myself at her opening, waiting for her signal. Another nod was what I needed; I sheathed myself in her. She bit her lip and whimpered for a few moments. Her tightness was throbbing and expanding around me, compensating for my decent size. I began to move slowly, subtly. She felt so good on the inside, so warm, so tight, her sex thick coating my length. I was not going to last very long tonight.

"Edward, this feels so good." She panted.

"Bella, I love you." I answered.

Already I was teetering on the edge of nirvana; my movements became faster and harder, more primal and needy. I pumped into her even harder, making the bed shake and the frame groan. The sound of flesh on flesh only emphasized the feeling of utter pleasure; the best feeling in the world was obviously to be inside of Bella. She let go again, her body squeezing me tightly in a convulsive manner; my length throbbed eratically, and I howled in release, ecstatically spilling my seed into her, both of us throbbing together. We were screaming one another's names to the heavens now.

"I love you…I love you…" We were both panting. Sleep was claiming me quickly; loss of bodily fluids and excessive physical strain will make you very tired very quickly. Our bodies were slick with sweat, out hearts beating erratically. I put my palm flat on her stomach.

"I am the first…"

"Yes."

"Oh, Bella." I said.

She smiled at me. "Do you want a son or a daughter?"

"Son then daughter." I responded breathlessly. I kissed her gently. "What do you think?"

No answer, and her face was now tucked into the crook of my neck.

"Bella?"

"…"

She was sleeping. I smiled gently and kissed the top of her head.

"…goodnight, my one and only love."

FIN

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A/N- Okay, dictionary for this story. (In order of appearance)

Virgo intacta- a girl or woman whose hymen remains unbroken [From Latin , literally "intact virgin"]

Virgulate- rod-like in shape

Mesonoxian- of or relating to midnight (it was dark)

Susurrus- murmur or whisper-like