Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or any of the characters. I just wish I did.


We met at nine o'clock on New Year's Eve, introduced by friends. I watched his slender fingers move up through reddish-brown hair, subtle streaks of copper shining through in contrast with infinite eyes of brilliant green. He leaned forward to shake my hand, his rose-tipped lips lilting up into a halfway smile. I felt my heart leap into the back of my throat as I watched his Adam's apple rise and fall.

I forget who introduced us. Because within a minute they were gone. Everyone was gone, and in the whole world there was just us two.

I'd first spotted him at seven, the tall young man I didn't know at the party that I didn't particularly want to go to. He was a tangled mix of gangly and gorgeous, the slender features of a boy and the throaty presence of a man. He'd been leaning up against the makeshift bar, rugged jaw cocked toward a leggy blond that he'd looked up to with mischief in his eyes.

Then those eyes had alit upon me. And they did not turn away. I'd stood there, naked inside my clothes, sipping on a drink that didn't taste like strawberries and trying to remember what my life had been about before. I couldn't remember. So I broke his stare and walked away, feeling his eyes on my hips all the way across the room.

We'd danced circles around each other for two hours. I'd watched as he'd drawn close to me and then deftly moved away. He was always there, in the corner of my vision, or just as a musky presence, some twelve or twenty feet away.

I'd felt like I could taste the stubble on his skin already.

The introductions felt perfunctory since our bodies seemed to know what names and dates of birth could never say.

"Edward," his voice was velvet and his hand was warm.

"Bella," my name wrapped around my tongue like sex, though it had never sounded that way before.

We talked. For three hours, our voices moved around each other like our bodies longed to do. I saw how he leaned backwards when he laughed, rosy lips lightly parting to let his joyful breath pass through. How his hands moved to his hair when I asked a question that cut too quickly past the things we thought we knew.

I wondered if he liked how I looked when I laughed. I wondered if he knew.

With every inch he moved toward me, I felt a subtle heat across my arm, across my shoulder, and a flash of flame throughout my sex. I drew my fingers up to push some crumbs from the skin below his smile. His hand rose up to meet mine and he kissed the side of my shaking palm. We continued to talk, our voices shifting lower, our hips drawing closer, and his hand stayed on mine all the while.

As the countdown began toward midnight, our eyes were electric upon each others' skin. We chanted numbers in a whisper, our foreheads pressed together at the five. Four. Three. Two.

One.

One kiss was all it took to make my heart of stone grow warm. He grazed my lips with his, his breath inside my mouth and his hand inside my hair. I whispered, "Happy New Year" against his skin. Because everything was new.

When the world around us prepared to sleep, we drew our sleeping bags together in the middle of the room, mine below us, his above. We lay on our sides, our conversation never pausing, simply growing quiet in the dark. There was nothing I didn't want to know.

When his lips met mine again they were soft and wet and his arms were strong. We kissed until the dawn, my hands upon his shoulder and on his back and in his hair. I tasted his tongue when the sun was still low and dim. Unsurprisingly, it tasted like him.

We were surrounded by people. I was surrounded by him. We were still in our clothes. And yet I had never felt more exposed.

I kissed him one more time as the world began to stir. Our eyes connected over coffee. And the rest of the world was still a blur.

He stood on the porch when the friend who was supposed to drive me home finally pushed me out the door. There was no kiss or hug goodbye. There were just our eyes, his and mine, and a gaze that lasted until the house shifted out of view.

---

When my father asked how the party was, I told him it was fine. I hoped he didn't see the lie behind my eyes. Because it was so much more than fine.

I thought of Edward throughout my dinner, through my homework and through my chores. I thought of him in the shower, alone, as the water's heat seared my already steaming flesh and burned it to the bone. I thought of him in my bed at night, my fingers on my clit and on my breast as I pondered his tongue and breath and tone.

I thought of his body. I thought of his mind. And as my muffled whispering of his name into the silent dark subsided, it was his mind that haunted me all the more.

He was a freshman at Dartmouth, at home in Port Angeles for winter break. I was a senior at Forks High School, ready for wings to sprout and grow from my caged-up spine. We'd talked about everything - our favorite colors and favorite poems, our families and our homes. And yet I was still desperate to know more.

He called me that night, his voice a shy and sultry presence on the phone. I cradled the handset to my shoulder and pretended it was his face, his lips in the mouthpiece, pressed breathily to my own.

He picked me up on Saturday. Our easy conversation wound its way through dinner and his warm green eyes subtly glowed. He kissed me in his car before the long drive home. I felt his mouth move hot and wet across my skin, past the corner of my jaw bone, pressed fast against the pulse inside my neck. I held his head there, my fingers in all the glory of his messy hair, wondering if his tongue could feel the way my heart was beating for him from just the throbbing of the blood beneath my skin.

Over his clothes, my hands traveled the length of his chest, hard and warm. Then my elbow was on the gearshift stuck between us, my knee accidentally rolling the window down. He laughed across my neck, soft hair tickling the space beneath my chin. I heard my breathy voice erupt in giggles that shook his mouth. We straightened ourselves and he turned the key in the ignition.

Again, we talked the whole way home.

Each night was spent in whispered conversation, the phone stolen into my room when my father wasn't paying close enough attention. I held the speaker to my ear beneath the covers, my hair twisting in my idle fingers, the sheets growing warm beneath my breath. At midnight, he whispered, "Goodnight, Bella," and I was left in the warmth alone.

Two more Saturdays we spent the same, feeding each other in a crowded room that felt like it only held us two. Wrestling for space in unheated leather seats, watching fog grow on the windows as our mouths found new ways to breathe.

It didn't strike me until the end that someday he would have to go home.

That last Saturday was the same as ever, except that it was warm. It felt like it had been forever, inside the space of four short weeks. He pulled the car up to the drive outside my home, and I ran with my heart inside my lungs, waiting breathlessly until we were out of my father's line of sight before wrapping my mouth around his tongue.

His drove a different way this time, not back to Port Angeles, but deeper into the nothingness and the evergreen and the wood. For once our tongues were still.

The tires grew loud beneath us as we pulled onto a long dirt road. He rolled the car to a stop on the banks of the Quillayute River, where the only sound was water lapping. It was just the river and the trees and the sky. And the beating hearts of Edward and I.

He fed me cheese and crackers as we stared out across a setting sun. I wondered briefly if it was a metaphor, before brushing the thought away. I lifted another bite to his waiting mouth, held open for my offering. But I offered him not just the food. I placed the cracker on his tongue and smiled as his soft lips gently closed. I let my fingers linger, tracing patterns around their rosy shape as his jaw began to chew. My touch was a glancing dance along his nose and across his eyes. They closed for me as I followed his cheekbone down, settling on his lips again as he swallowed and pursed his lips to my waiting skin.

When he opened his eyes they were hungry. But again my offering was not food.

I replaced my fingers with my lips, and he took them, turning them over and over, pulling me soft into his mouth. His hands were in my hair and on my neck as he leaned forward to pull me closer. My thighs hit the gear shift as he twisted my body into his lap. My head bounced against the ceiling and my elbows hit the glass. But this time neither of us laughed.

My forehead on his brow, my breath grew harder against his mouth. I felt his hands press firmly on my neck and on my cheek as his eyes asked me questions that our voices couldn't seem to find. For all our weeks spent talking, we suddenly had no words.

Fortunately our bodies knew all their lines.

My eyes fell to a close as his mouth reached up for mine and my hands braided themselves in his long bronze hair. I pulled his face toward me as his long arms wrapped around my waist. I felt the heat of his fingers through my clothing, drawing circles in the fabric as I drew mine down his face and to his chest. The pads of my longest fingers felt the gentle curls of hair where the undone buttons at his collar met his neck.

I let my lips move slowly down his skin, the rough angles of his face making scratch marks in my skin. My mouth caressed his jaw line, sucking softly at the corner beneath his ear and down his neck. When I met my fingers at his collarbones I slowly exhaled, letting the warm breath float down and out across his ribs. I was so close to his lungs that I could feel him moan.

By the time my lips reached his ear again I'd found my words. I licked my lips and breathed his name, "Edward, I want you."

The sound of my own desire sent a shock from my navel to my sex and I felt his hardness twitch into the back of my leg as his entire body groaned. His mouth found mine again and his hands searched feverishly for flesh. I took his palm, large and rough in mine and brought it firmly to my breast. He pulled my tongue deeper into his mouth, the warmth of his hand moving through my clothes to the warm and fertile flesh that lay beneath.

I pulled away gently from his kiss to arch my back into his touch, my breathing raspy in my ears and the scent of him overpowering my lungs. I watched his hands moving over my mounds and found his eyes, locked on my curves. I felt powerful in my sexuality, lightheaded from pleasure and need. I whispered his name as my neck fell sharply backward.

And then the crown of my head hit the steering wheel, and all we could hear was the honking horn.

I jumped so hard I hit the roof, and then fell down into his length. His groan was not a groan of want and his eyes flashed hot with pain.

"Oops."

"Bella," his eyes were all intensity again, "you have no idea."

I felt his arms, more insistent than before, his hands wrapped strong around my hips, and there was a pushing at my side. My body twisted strongly forward and I lost all sense of balance as he guided my body between the seats into the empty space behind. I lay panting on the long expanse of leather, my heart in my throat and a trickle of fear in the sweat on my brow.

And then he was upon me. I watched his body lithely spring into the space between the front seats, squeezing through where I would have thought it would be impossible. He landed with his knees on the floor of the back seat, his hands still on my hips, slowly drifting to my thighs. He shifted his weight, bringing up his knees between my parted legs and letting the length of his chest press long upon me. Our lips tangled in another, longer kiss before his breath found my ear, his teeth on the tender flesh as he whispered, "Bella, I've wanted you since the moment our eyes met across that room."

I heard his admission in my knees and it made me fainter. I couldn't pull him close enough to my body, even with all of his weight and every inch of him pressed strongly into mine. My hands fell to his hips as his moved to my neck and my breast. I shifted him into me, showing him the way home and he groaned. I felt the full length of his desire against my covered sex and I raked my hips again along him, back and forth and up and down. I pulled my legs around his waist to completely surround him, his hands tracing the hot long line of my twisting thigh.

And it still wasn't enough.

Edward was the one to finally pry his lips and hips away. A rumbling whine came from my chest before I could recall it, maddened to find the object of my need even so many inches away. But then his hands began to move to the hem of my shirt, drifting softly, slowly higher as his eyes beheld my skin reverentially. I pulled myself up onto my arm so he could free me from the fabric, pushing it forcefully up my chest and off my shoulders and away. His fevered kisses came back to my lips and then my neck and down to where my flesh began to swell. His hands fumbled for a moment at my bra before I was free. He traced each nipple lazily with his tongue and I scraped my nails across his neck and moaned.

He moved from one breast to the other, his nose drifting softly across the valley of flesh between their rosy burning tips. I angled my pelvis desperately, pushing the aching center of my heat against the crest of his hipbone. The whimpers pushing past my parted teeth surprised me, as did the sharp intake of breath in my lungs as his hip pushed strongly into me, meeting the apex of my need as my fingers raked across his side.

"What do you want from me, Bella?" he asked, as his hip bone pushed into my clit through the soaking fabric of my jeans. I cried out as he breathed into my breasts, his wet lips still softly surrounding one nipple while his graceful fingers tortured the other. I pulled roughly at his hair, my breathing ragged as I moaned.

"Everything, Edward." I meant it as I said it, my head leaning awkwardly back into the handle of the door. "You?" I twisted the word up as a question, even as my breathing hitched from the pressure of his mouth.

"You," he said, the word flat and full of need. It was a statement. "Tell me what you want me to do to you. I'll do anything," his voice was rough, almost breaking across my skin that felt like glass. "Anything you tell me to."

"I want you to kiss me," I breathed, and his lips were on me. My sex convulsed in a whimper as the pressure of his hip was replaced with the fabric-covered steel of his cock. He groaned at the friction of my heat against his length. I felt his impatience with my answer in his thrusts as our mouths parted in wet kisses, building in heat and intensity until I was almost seeing stars. I breathed into his mouth, continuing as smoothly as I could, "I want you to take off all my clothes and let me take off all of yours." Our tongues danced across each other, the texture and the taste of him driving my mind and body wild. His fingers whispered softly up my hips and to the skin just beneath the waistband of my jeans. "I want your body inside of mine," I whispered, only to feel him bite down on my lip in an uncontained groan.

He pushed his tongue into my mouth and then kissed his way to my ear, his hips still pressing into me and taking away all of my sense. "I want to feel your body naked under mine," he growled, placing wandering kisses all along the shell of my ear. "I want to taste your pussy," he whispered wetly, pushing himself even harder against me as I gasped in pleasure. "I want to take you. I want to be inside you." He sucked hard against my neck, scraping the skin with his teeth. His voice was even lower now, almost shuddering, "All of me inside of all of you."

My back arched into his chest and my fingers released his hips. I felt the warmth of his neck pulsing beneath their tips as I opened the collar of his shirt, each button falling away beneath my touch. I pushed the fabric down the length of his arms and he paused his explorations of my waist and breast just long enough to free him of it. My hands ran up and down the searing expanse of his naked back, sleek muscle and bone sliding hot beneath my palm. His strong arms held his body hovering an inch above me, then brought him collapsing down, my breasts pressed firmly against his chest as my lungs fought for air and my panting increased.

He fumbled with the buttons of my jeans and I with the zipper of his. We wrestled in the encroaching dark, trying to find each other's nakedness. Edward was stronger. So he won.

He pulled the stiff fabric roughly from my waist, his hands caressing the swell of my hip as he bent to kiss it, pushing himself to his knees on the floor of the car. When he reached my ankles he briefly paused. He untied my shoelaces one by one, his eyes never leaving my face, and it was one of the most tender and erotic things I had ever seen. He peeled away my socks and pants and brought his nose to the cotton seam between my legs. My body twitched and froze as he closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, then looked up at me his gaze full of frenzy and lust. His lips pushed gently against the material, his fingers tangled in the line of lace at the quivering edge.

"Can I taste you?"

My sex trembled and gushed as I whispered yes. He raised himself just enough to pull my underwear down my legs, caressing my thighs and calves and feet. He stayed there perched above my body as his fingers moved up my legs and into my folds. My entire body twisted up when his touch came home to the bud above my entrance. "Fuck, Edward," I moaned.

"Tell me what you want me to do to you." His eyes were dark and his breath was slow.

I gave him his own words back, sensing he wanted to hear them. "I want you to taste me."

The silence was deafening as he stared at me, wordless, in concentration. The only movement was my fluttering breath and the small circles of his thumb along my clit. Painstakingly slowly, he lowered himself until his chin grazed my thigh. He kissed it almost chastely, his thumb never pausing its torturous dance. His lips grazed up and in, pursing dryly against the occasional inch of skin. He brushed them over the dark curls that framed my sex and let the tip of his chin press slightly against the wet flesh above his thumb. My breath caught in my throat as he continued on and down the other thigh, then back up, wetter and softer and still agonizingly slow. Until finally he reached the center again and dipped his tongue achingly in.

My whole body spasmed at the touch and my hand tangled itself in his hair. "Like that, Bella? Is that how you want me?"

"Yes," I moaned. "But higher. Where your hand is. Oh-" his tongue replaced his thumb and the softer wetter pressure pushed my eyes inside my head.

"What should I do with my hand, Bella?" With every word his lips grazed over my clit until they were replaced again with his tongue.

"Touch me." I whispered. "Touch inside of me."

I breathed in long and slow as his fingers pushed against my entrance, sliding in. They curved around the soaking flesh, pressing up and in and at the place behind my pubic bone.

"You're so fucking wet." His lips and tongue pulsed on me, his fingers making blunt thrusts and I could feel myself falling apart. Something in me wanted to keep telling him what I wanted. It made me feel powerful and helpless and impossibly turned on.

"I want to come, Edward," my voice was a rasping presence in my throat. "Can I come?"

He groaned into my sex, "Yes." His licking and pushing continued for a few infinite seconds as I held my breath and focused on the sight of him and the lifting feeling behind my sex.

When I came it was violent and powerful. I felt my insides turning inside out and white light behind my eyes. I pulled on his hair, my nails sinking into his shoulder as my calf pushed against the back of his head. He licked once more as I was coming down and pressed his fingers to my mouth. I pulled them between my gasping teeth, sucking myself off of him as he wiped his mouth across his wrist and shakingly kissed me.

My fingers fumbled again with the buttons of his jeans. I pushed them off with his boxers, too impatient for anything except his naked flesh inside my hands. I curled my hand around him, feeling him pulse and moan in my palm as I kissed his open mouth.

"Tell me what you want, Edward."

He was shaking so much he scarcely seemed capable of words. "I want to feel inside of you, Bella." He turned my own questions on me, his voice intense, "Can I come inside of you, Bella?"

I let my tongue play over his lips again before reaching up into the front seat for my discarded purse. I found the small foil square quickly and ripped it open with trembling fingers. I let my hand glide along his nakedness one more time before rolling the condom down his length. My lips again found his and I whispered "yes" inside his mouth.

He pressed his forehead to mine and leaned me back down into the seat with my legs open before him. I felt his erection resting on my thigh as he held himself again above me. He paused for a few long moments, his fingertips washing across my skin, leaving a faint trail of fire from my jawbone to my knee. I heard him mutter something, before lowering himself down to press fully against me. His palm cupped my face as his thumb whispered over my lips. I kissed the side of his hand and pressed my palm against the small of his back, willing him to bring himself to me.

I felt him finally begin to push against me, the tip of his cock between my wet folds. I arched my back and tilted my hips, swallowing another inch of him inside of me as he hissed. His eyes held mine with sparkling intensity as he pushed the rest of his length into the waiting recesses of my body. When he was fully inside he released my gaze and let his head fall to rest his brow against my shoulder. I held my hand at his hips, keeping him still inside of me for just a moment as I adjusted to his size.

"Like that?" I whispered wetly against his ear. "Is that how you like feeling yourself inside of me?"

"Yes," he moaned, biting the tender flesh where my shoulder met my neck. Then he lifted himself up again and his voice was gravel through his flushed lips, "but I like it better like this." His biceps flexed around me as he slowly withdrew before pushing himself even further into my sex. I gasped as he began to thrust, slowly and intensely, our eyes again locked. Each time he penetrated me, I ground my clit against his pubic bone, my hand guiding him to press there more forcefully as I pushed against his hip.

We rocked against each other, the only noises in the car being our gasping breaths and the slick sound of flesh on flesh. I could feel every inch of him in my wet flesh and he pushed dangerously against another bundle of nerves at the very deepest part of my sex. "Like this?" he whispered as his jaw began to clench. "Is this how you like to feel me?"

"Yes," I hissed, "but harder." I moaned his name as he increased the intensity of his strokes. With the hand I still held twisted in his bronze locks I pulled him closer to me until he rested on his elbows, our foreheads pressed sweatily against each other.

"I want us to come, Bella," he whisper. "Can we come?"

"Yes."

He grunted again and pushed against me still harder, pursuing the strong and building rhythm we had established between our bodies. I pushed him further into my hips as I felt myself going over the edge. I screamed his name as my body shattered, delicious fire rocketing out from my core into my pointed toes and all along my spine. He clenched his eyes and ground his teeth with two more final strokes before burying himself inside me, shooting hot and wet inside my body, clutching me so close it almost hurt as he found his release.

I kissed him, wet and slow, our eyes connecting as our bodies began to unwind. He ran his fingers through my hair and cupped my cheek, rubbing his hand softly along my skin. Finally he pulled himself out of me and sat on the seat by my feet to deal with the condom. He pulled a blanket from a pocket in the back of the seat and lay down beside me, draping it over our trembling skin.

It was fully dark now. We held each other and kissed softly, our breathing becoming slow and calm.

"Bella?" he whispered.

"Yes?" I strained to see him, even just a few inches away from me in the dark.

"I asked you to tell me what you wanted." For all that I had heard his voice in our hours of easy conversation and in this car, gritty with need and dark with ecstasy, I had never heard it this shaky before.

I nodded, and if he couldn't see me it seemed like he could feel me, as he paused and then decided to continue.

"Now will you tell me what you really want?" He sounded vulnerable and yet strong.

I chose my words carefully. It had been hard to tell him what I wanted in our passion, but in our easy embrace, coming down after, it was even worse. "I want this not to be an ending."

He sighed as if in relief and smiled against my skin. "I want that, too." He pushed my hair from my face and held his fingers to my jaw to steady it. I wondered if he could feel me trembling. "What else?"

"I already told you," I whispered softly. "I want you." I wasn't just talking about bodies anymore, but this all still felt too new to know how much more I was really asking for.

Perhaps he sensed my apprehension, or maybe he felt the same tenuous waves of simultaneous hope and uncertainty, as he affirmed me without pressing too far past what we'd already said. "And Bella," he spoke with firmness and conviction, "I want you."

We kissed again, letting our lips linger, knowing it would be a long time before they would be able to do that again. I felt we both knew we'd pushed our boundaries, spurred by the urgency of his departure. But there in the small humming space of his car, it seemed like we'd said enough.

We huddled into each other's arms, preparing to let go, and I smiled, confident that while this was an end, perhaps it could be a beginning, too.


A/N: All I really want is your review.