Tickle Me Edward

A/N: Thank you Justine Lark and Gleena for once again acting as my lovely Betas:) I also want to thank giselle-lx for giving us Edward's four-day transformation in her awesome story Ithaca is Gorges.

I own nothing:(

Dawn finally broke through the thin summer clouds; faint beams of sunlight shone through the gauzy curtains that covered our window. I held Bella to my side, feeling sated after showing her the depth of my affections once again.

The soft tendrils of sunshine reached us lying as we were on the bed, causing Bella's unclothed arm to shimmer. Though she was rapidly closing in on the first anniversary of her change, she was still fascinated with the way her skin scintillated in the sun. I watched as my wife lifted her wrist and, not for the first time, studied the marks that had been left upon her skin by my teeth. Invariably, this led to her inspection of the other scars that had been left on her otherwise blemish-free skin.

I smiled as I recalled the first time she had really scrutinized all of them, shortly after her change.

"Edward? Why don't you have any bites on your wrists?" Bella asked me, weaving our fingers together and comparing her wrists to mine as we moved out of Nessie's recently finished nursery and into our bedroom in the cottage for the night.

"Carlisle didn't bite my wrists," I explained simply.

"Why not?" Bella asked curiously.

"Do you recall what Carlisle said when he explained why he decided to change me?" I asked in response. Bella's face wrinkled in concentration. She had uncommonly good recall of her human memories, but the probability of her remembering the details of a conversation from an otherwise eventful night that took place nearly a year before her change was slim.

"Your mother…she said something to him…she had green eyes, like yours…you were dying of the Spanish Influenza…something lingered…everything else is fuzzy…" Bella admitted. I was impressed that she had remembered even that much. I was admittedly touched that she had focused on the color of my human eyes more than the circumstances of my change. I understood many times over that she had chosen this life for me, and our love, but it was a striking reminder that immortality was the least of her motivations in joining me in this life.

"Other than the fact that my eyes were once green, Carlisle told you a few other things that night. One of which was that he wasn't entirely sure of how the transformation was instigated. He settled on recreating the wounds that he had received the night that he was attacked."

Bella's eyes narrowed at my explanation, releasing my hand to quietly shut our door. "What does that mean?" she asked, turning to face me with her hands on her hips. Wordlessly, I unbuttoned my shirt, recalling our first trip to the meadow with a small smile. Her human eyes wouldn't have detected the scars that remained from my transformation, but now her eyes would be able to see them as well as the others that I had acquired over the years. Her eyes widened as she studied my neck for the first time with immortal eyes.

She was instantly beside me, turning my head to the side to take in the faint trail of bite marks that began under my left ear and wrapped downwards around my neck, ending just over my collarbone on the right side. Her mouth fell open in astonishment before she let out a low growl. I hastened to alleviate her very newborn reaction.

"Carlisle didn't know how much venom was required or that there was a more effective method of delivering it. He had never witnessed another change, not even in Volterra."

"I remember…Carlisle said it…'was more painful and lingering than necessary...' What does that mean?" Bella repeated, begging me with her eyes. I hesitated to explain, but at the feral look on her face, I couldn't hold back.

"In comparison to the amount of venom that I used for your change, the amount that Carlisle delivered to me was a mere fraction. By the time he realized his error, my blood vessels had closed off, and my change took somewhat longer than is typical."

"Somewhat longer? This isn't a time to hold back, Edward. How much longer? Six hours? Ten? Tell me, please," Bella whispered the last, crumbling my resolve to keep from her what I knew would bruise her tender heart.

"Carlisle estimated that his own change took approximately seventy-four hours. My own took closer to ninety."

"Ninety?! That is nearly four days, Edward," Bella whispered in a tight voice, caressing the lines that marred my skin at my neck. "It's so faint…my scars…Jasper's…they are so noticeable, now that my eyes can see more…why is this one so light?"

"I've always assumed that it was the smaller amount of venom used; as you know, it isn't the injury that scars. It's the venom," I explained. Then Bella allowed her fingertips to slide along my shoulders, pushing my shirt entirely off. Her fingers brushed against a more evident scar that encompassed my left shoulder. "What happened here?" she asked.

"I can't rival Jasper for the number of scars he has, but I have helped to control three newborns, one of whom is much larger than me," I explained.

"Emmett?!" Bella asked, the surprise evident in her tone.

"He was an impossibly powerful newborn, as you can imagine. It took all four of us to control him at his worst during his first year. Being the fastest, there were a few times that I bore the brunt of his frustrations when he was derailed from his urges. He of course, was very remorseful for it. It's water under the bridge."

Bella's eyes were wide as she took in my words. I wished yet again to know what her thoughts contained, and what she would ask next as she moved further down my limb and moved on to explore my other arm.

"What is this?" Bella pointed out a mark on my right forearm, more a gash than a bite-mark, but still obviously made by venomous vampire teeth.

"Defensive wound." I attempted to deflect her curiosity. I didn't think that Bella would be very pleased about the details of that particular blemish.

"Edward," Bella said warningly. I valued our alone-time, and what occupied those hours, enough to not tempt fate by toying with a newborn vampire. Even one who was as steady as my wife.

"Victoria," was my one-word answer. The anger was overflowing from her, causing Bella's body to shake with her aggression. "She's nothing but ash, scattered in the wind, Love," I soothed, reaching out to brush the tension from her brow. Bella's swift movement took me by surprise; she gathered me into her arms and nearly crushed me in her desperation.

"You were hurt, and you didn't tell me…"

"Bella, this was nothing. It was mostly healed before I even removed her pitiful head from her shoulders. You needn't worry about it, Love."

Once again, my wife surprised me, pulling away for a brief moment before trailing feather-light kisses over each of the scars that littered my body.

"There. All better," Bella said, causing my mouth to erupt into a crooked grin.

"Do I get to return the favor?" I asked.

"I was hoping you might feel that way," Bella teased. I grasped her wrist to me first, running my nose over my bite-mark. It was a bit larger than the others, as I had purposely bitten over the scar she had received in Phoenix, obliterating from my wife's skin any last reminder of the experience. Just as Bella pulled in a ragged breath, I pressed my lips to my brand upon her, meeting her wide, lust-darkened eyes with my own before pulling away.

"One down…" I murmured.

I never made it any farther than her other wrist before Bella had pounced upon me. The memory of that night caused a smug smile to spread across my lips.

"What are you thinking of that has you smiling like the Cheshire Cat?" Bella asked, laughing. Her fingers were tracing over my collarbones again.

"Just the night that I showed my scars to you," I explained.

"Really, now…" Bella's tone was playful.

"Yes. Especially what happened after."

"Careful, Edward. Renesmee won't be asleep that much longer."

"I can't help that you are irresistible," I replied. Bella's hands moved to my sides, continuing the invisible design that she had been tracing on my chest.

"Irresistible? I'm to blame that you have no self-control any longer?"

"I can't be held accountable for my actions when you do such things to me," I argued, fighting the undeniable, yet completely foreign urge to fidget beneath Bella's ministrations. My mind was having a hard time processing the sensation, which astounded me. It was growing, magnifying with each stroke and brush of her fingertips along my ribcage. My body was tense, ready to spring like the cats I preferred to hunt, but I was frozen beneath my wife's hands. The sensation continued to build, rising beneath her wicked fingertips until my breaths were coming in short gasps as I tried to process the stimulation.

Bella's hands moved ever lightly, ever lower, until she reached my hipbone; suddenly, the tension coiled within me erupted. I writhed with the sensation, unable to put a name to the deliciously unfamiliar torture. My beloved's face was smugly satisfied. Triumphant, even. She was biting her lip, attempting to quell the giggles that were so close to erupting from her lips.

That was all the impetus I needed. In some corner of my otherwise overwhelmed senses, I realized that I had ground my teeth together in an attempt to contain what I now let loose.

I laughed, unable to stop myself. I refused to classify it as a giggle. I did not giggle. But Bella had coaxed the most full-bodied, rich laughter from me that I could ever remember. I supposed I was ticklish…Then I realized that I could never let that fact leave this room. That sort of information in the wrong hands…Emmett's…could be disastrous.

"Say uncle…" Bella's smooth voice intoned, interrupting my internal crisis.

"Never!" I panted, paralyzed by the stimulus. Then I came to my senses enough to become cognizant of the fact that Bella was using her newborn strength against me, holding both my hands pinned against my chest. "I'd rather not think of any kin at the moment…"

My response surprised Bella thoroughly enough that she loosened her grip on my hands, allowing me to roll us, reversing our position.

"How about I see what I can make you say?" I taunted. The gleam in her eye was all I needed. I knew what she would be saying. And it wouldn't be 'uncle.'

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