FGB contribution - MsTallulahBelle inspired me.
Title: Of Kith and Kin: Outtake III – Will We Burn in Heaven?
Edward's point of view of chapter 15: Burning Hot and Burning Slow
This goddamned tie's been strangling me all night. Fucking Rose, putting us all in these monkey suits, like we're all so grown-up and sophisticated.
I'd felt like an ass, standing at the front of the church. I wanted to get the hell out of there – out of the damned suit - but then the music started, and I looked up, and she started walking down the aisle.
Dark brown hair piled up on top of her head and those heels and stockings and holy fucking God, she was beautiful. I hadn't seen her since Christmas and she looked good then, but still girlish. Watching her walk down the aisle, dressed-up and made-up, I saw that she'd matured; she'd become a woman.
Her eyes flashed on mine and for one second – just one second - it was only us, and she gave me a half-grin and I knew exactly what she was thinking:get me the hell out of here.
The ceremony was fast and the reception was a bore. Some chick from high school even tried to get me into the coat check. Jesus.
Bella was there, everywhere. Sticking by Rose's side, helping with the dress and bringing her food and glasses of wine and smiling like she wasn't miserable being so close to the spotlight.
Then the moment when we danced, because as much as I tried, I couldn't fight it one minute more. We danced in a group, me and Alice and Jasper, but then the music slowed and Jasper and Alice climbed into each other's arms, it was me and Bella and her looking up at me, and how could I say no?
My fingers twitch as I remember the feel of her skin, her bare back under my palm. She pushed herself close to me and the music rose around us, but all I could hear was my own heartbeat, the steady drumming of no, no, no, no.
When the song was over, I pushed her away, had another glass of scotch and tried to smile until the bouquet was tossed.
I'd never been so happy to see a ball of flowers hit the air.
Twenty minutes later, Em and Rose were in the back of the limo and Bella was running around, helping Alice with I don't even know what.
I got the fuck out of there.
I knew Mom and Dad were spending the night at the hotel in Port Angeles after the wedding. I have a room at the hotel, but really, I just needed to get away. Out of town and away from the girl who spins my head in ways it shouldn't.
I slide on a pair of jeans, but don't bother with a shirt. My room being on the top floor means it's always warm up here, especially when it's a sunny day, like today. Leave it to Rose to command sunshine for her wedding. I grimace at my bitter tone. I'm jealous, and I know it.
Lying on my bed, I find the remote to my stereo. I wonder what's on the deck and when I flick it on, I have a little laugh at my emo, eighteen year old self. The song that plays is sweet and heartbroken, Sarah's voice singing all about love and loss and betrayal and things I can't have. I play it loud, letting the sound wash over me and I give in to thoughts of Isabella.
The knock on my door makes my heart beat hard. I didn't know anyone was home.
I open the door and the moment I do, I know I'm gone.
She stands in front of me, eye make-up smudgy and shoulders bare. My hands want the feel of her skin again.
I gesture for her to enter and everything in my head screams at me.
Don't do this, Cullen. She's just a girl. She's practically your sister.
Don't let her in here.
My naked skin is hot under her stare.
"It was pretty, all of it."
"Uh, yeah." I want to say more, tell her to go away. I want to tell her how pretty she really is. Instead I run my hand through my hair. I don't trust myself to speak.
Bella's looking at me with something like desire in her eyes, and it scares me because if she wants me - if she ever wanted me - I couldn't resist that, and I wouldn't be able to handle the fallout. My parents, my sister, our friends. None of them would forgive me. She is beloved and to be protected. I can't let everyone down.
When she turns her back to me, I'm relieved, but when she asks me to get the zipper, I want to curl up in my mother's lap and cry because she is asking me to touch her and she is damning us both to hell.
My hands, act without my guidance. My fingertip skirts the skin at the top of her dress before grasping the zipper and pulling, pulling.
I want her to walk away from me. Please, Jesus, Bella, please walk away from me.
She shivers under my touch and it's all I can do not to pull her to me, sink my fingers into her skin and touch her, finally, just fucking touch her.
I want her to understand. She has to leave. She has to fucking leave. I can't…I can't.
When she turns around and looks at me, I understand that the battle is already lost. Whatever she wants, whatever it is, she'll have it. I'll do my time, an eternity in hell, but she'll have whatever it is that she's looking for here, tonight.
My hands are on her skin again, tracing the line of her neck, her shoulder, her arm. Bare skin, pale and soft and warm, and oh, God. I am so fucked.
She raises her hand, the one holding the dress…and it falls to the floor between us. I can't look at her, not like that, not half naked. She presses her palm to my cheek and it feels like absolution.
I want her. I want handfuls of her flesh and I want her mouth, hot and wet on mine. I want her on me and I want to get inside of her, every inch of her, I want.
I want to warn her, explain it to her. Why it's so wrong.
"Oh, Isabella." I want her to hear my words, see in my face what a monster I am, what monsters I'm making of us both.
"Edward." Her whisper is a plea and a curse.
I close my eyes and press my face into her hand. Small, soft hand. Small, soft girl.
And she wants this. Wants me.
With that realization, everything changes. Tonight, just for tonight, I can have this. I can have her, take whatever she's offering me and give her back so much more, because tomorrow I'll be gone and tonight will be a dream. I make my devil's bargain – just this once, just one time – and then I'll walk away and leave her be. Forever.
When I open my eyes, she's still staring at my mouth. My resolve, my will, is broken and I give under the weight of her want.
I slide my hands onto her shoulders, bare, warm skin, and then around her back. Her eyes are huge and she looks like she's a little nervous, but she's not backing down, so neither do I.
I take it slow, because she should back away and maybe this isn't what she wants at all. But she's there, pressing up to me on her toes and putting her mouth right in front of mine, and then my mouth is on hers and it's perfect, perfect, perfect.
Her tongue sweeps out, touches my upper lip and that's all she wrote, man. I am fucking lost. I grab her, hold her tighter, and she's climbing up my legs, trying to get closer, closer and oh, baby, yes, come closer.
She's a feather in my hands when I lift her and carry her to the bed. The backs of her thighs are bare under my hands, and when I squeeze she utters a small, soft moan into my mouth and fuck me, I want her.
My mouth can't stop, can't stop kissing her. I settle her on the edge of the bed and I sit on my knees on the floor, my hands touching her shoulders, her arms, clutching her close to me. I can wrap my arms fully around her and when I do, it brings out something fierce and protective in me, like I was built for this. For holding her.
Bella's panting and gasping into my mouth, hot little puffs of air, so I pull away to let her catch her breath. I sit back on my heels and just…look at her. She's wearing some kind of black bustier and garters and stockings. My cock is so hard it hurts because she is everything I've ever wanted, fantasy girls and Bella mixed together, and she's sitting on the edge of my bed, looking at me like I just took away her new kitten.
"You're so, so beautiful."
She whispers. "You. You are."
She looks at me, all innocence trussed up in sin and I have to ask her, have to make her answer me.
"Do you…are you sure?"
I can't decipher the look she gives me – a little incredulous or impatient, I don't know. I think she might be waking up from this - whatever it is she's going through - but instead she slides down onto my lap, straddling me. She nuzzles and kisses my neck, and then whispers a hot, tickling breath into my ear. "I want you."
Three words and I am undone.
All I can think is she wants me. She wants me. I bury my face in her skin, kissing and sucking and licking. I pull her up onto the bed because I want her all laid out and beautiful for me. If she wants me? Well there's no measure for how much I want her.
I make my way down her neck to her chest, and fuck that beautiful black bra for getting in my way. In a second it's off, and then she's looking at me, bare-chested, no embarrassment anywhere in her eyes.
She's not the first girl to lie in my bed in pretty panties and silk stockings. They'd come to me, as far back as high school, wearing sexy wisps of silk and satin, too embarrassed to look me in the eye once their clothes had come off. Or worse, the ones who presented themselves like some kind of gift, or prize.
But not Bella. She's looking at me like she wants me, and there's a determination there. There's hunger – it's raw and honest and everything I need to keep going and feel okay about this.
I lay her down and she opens up to me, makes a space between her legs and when I settle there it's like home and heaven, all in one. I'm careful and slow, and I take my time turning her on. I do everything that I've ever learned makes a girl feel good, and a few things that I've always wanted to do, just to her.
She threads her fingers into my hair and presses my head to her chest and I'm glad. She likes this and that's good; I need her to like it, need her to let me—
The thought stops me cold before it's even formed.
I need her to let me do this again.
There's a second where I think how utterly damned I am, but her hands are in my hair and her hips are pushing up at me and my name is a plea, coming from her mouth: those things obscure that moment and I am back in action.
Bella struggles up onto her elbows, her eyes at my waist. Her hands move to my pants and I have to stop her, have to be sure. She nods at the question in my eyes and so I unbutton, unzip, but don't let it go any further. It dawns on me that she might just need to get off, and I can't have my cock inside of her, can't go that far unless it's what she really, really wants.
I lay with my head on her chest and slide my fingers down her body. Silken skin, pale and so, so beautiful. Her hips thrust up, so I put my hands on her, there, where she wants them. She is nothing but soft and wet and hot and girl, and the way she reacts to me, all jerky instinct makes me want to put my mouth on her, my tongue inside her - taste her, salty, sweet and tart.
Instead, I push and pull and rub and flick and in what seems like seconds, she's trembling under my hands, her fingers fisted in my hair and God I love it - the dull pain of her fingernails on my scalp and the shaky, wondering way she cries my name, a question and a plea, all at once.
As she comes down I lay with my head on her stomach, listening to her heartbeat slow. My fingers trace the curves of her body, along her legs and I hate the gorgeous stockings because I want her bare for me, completely bare.
She's coming down from her high, but before her heart stops pounding, she's trying to sit up, tugging at the little garter thing she's wearing and while I would love to go slow and roll those stockings - slow inch by slow inch - down her legs, I don't.
Thumbs fastened into the waistband, I slide the skirt down, and the stockings come with it, until she is exactly what I've been dreaming of: bare.
"Now you," she says but I don't register the words, so she rises to her knees and I have to follow. She pushes my jeans down off of my hips, and God, we're close, we're so close, and I want it, want her. I want to be inside of her, so I push her back down onto the bed and I kick off my jeans. Her bare legs are against mine, and I can feel her, naked against me. It's so much more, so much better than any fantasy I've ever had.
She wraps her legs around my waist and I'm there – right at the soft, wet heart of her, and it feels…fuck.
She looks up at me, all naked want, and I whisper things to her, my mouth running free because I can't rein it in when I'm with her like this.
"I need you," she whispers. "Inside."
She says this and tightens her legs around me, pulling me so close to sliding inside of her, and oh, fuck, fuck, fuck.
She whines when I back away, frustration, and I reach for the nightstand, and then my jeans and fuck fuck fuck!
I'm trying to wrap my head around 'no' when she sits up and holds my hand.
"I'm on the pill," she says, and whispers something about clean. Clean. Jesus.
Her cheeks flush as she speaks and I can't even process it, because she's just told me I can fuck her without a condom. Nothing between us. Just her. Just us.
"I'm clean," I say, because it's true. The one thing I was always diligent about was condoms, and for her to be the first, the first girl that I've really felt? I whimper my gratitude to the universe and bring myself closer.
I push myself against her, but not inside, not yet. I'm savoring the feel of her, soft and squirming and panting underneath me. She's making it too hard though, and with a sigh and then a groan, I slip inside of her.
She gasps and it's a new sound from her and at the same time, I'm feeling something, something out of place and I freeze. Her eyes are wet and she can't mask the pain and that's why she feels so fucking amazing.
I'm going to be sick.
"Oh, baby, no." No, no, no, no, no, no, no. Bella, why? Why would you do this?
I look down and see her pale skin, perfect and untouched skin and I am damned, damned, damned. My stomach fills with revulsion and this is the first time that I've ever disappointed myself.
Her hands move against my skin, soft and fluttering, soothing. "Don't stop," she whispers.
Why can't she understand? This wasn't for me. She shouldn't…she can't give up something like that, and I…I am so undeserving.
She whispers again, "Don't stop," and God help me, I don't want to.
When I look at her she's pleading with me and she smiles, eager little girl, and she pushes her hips against mine and I realize that I'm still fucking inside of her.
She's kissing me, and thrusting up at me, and God, she's going to hurt herself.
"Isabella. Baby. Slow," I whisper to her because if we're doing this - and we are - we're doing it right. I push the rest of the way into her and it takes everything I have to do it slow and easy. I'm still for a minute while I pull myself together, then slowly I roll us until she's on top.
A fucking virgin. Why would she do this?
Still, it sparks something low in me, primal, like how I felt when I had her wrapped up in my arms.
No matter who or what comes after, she is mine here, mine now.
She bounces on top of me and I take her hips in my hands, slowing her, showing her, until she's rocking over me, hands on my chest. When I look up through the thicket of hair, she's looking down at me, eyes wide and wonder-filled.
I slide my thumb down between us, pressing and stroking her clit and I can feel her starting to enjoy herself. I want her to get off again, want to feel her getting off on my cock and I want to get off too. I want to know what it's like to come inside of her, with her hair and her hands and her mouth and her skin, all of it, all around me.
She leans down over me and kisses me, taking my bottom lip between her teeth and fuck, yes, baby, just like that.
I want to pound into her and I want to stroke soft and teasing.
She hears my thoughts, I think, because she whispers in my ear, "turn us over," so I do.
I love the surprised look on her face when she finds herself on her back, and I love, fuck, I love being inside of her.
She braces her feet on the backs of my calves and then she's meeting me, stroke for stroke and it's making me lose my mind. I'm looking down at her and kissing her, and I'm babbling, God, I don't even know what I'm saying because lost, lost, I am so lost in her. Bella. My Isabella.
I'm going to come and I can't even try to fight it, can't fight anything about this girl because she owns me, body and soul, and I'm hers, I'm hers, I'm hers, forever.
It feels like two years that I burn in heaven, body tight and straining and loose and hot and shaking and gone. When I come to, she's got her hands all over me, stroking the back of my neck and my hair, down my spine and up again.
I shiver and kiss my gratitude.
"Isabella, you should have waited, you should have told me."
She shakes her head. "It's what I wanted, and you wouldn't have, if I told you."
She's right. So right.
"Why, then? Why me?" I ask, and my breath is held, waiting for the answer. Please, please, please, I want to say. Please. I can't even articulate to myself what I want from her, but I know what it is, nonetheless.
"Was it bad?"
My whole body jerks at that.
"No! God, no! It was…you're perfect."
And I feel her smile against my mouth and I smile back and everything else falls away. I can be damned tomorrow but for right here, right now, this is me and this is her and we are both perfect.
Isabella Swan smiles when she comes. It's the first thought in my head when I wake up in the morning and I'm smiling just thinking about it.
Then the smile falls, because she's not in bed with me, and the alarm goes off and fucking hell, I have a plane to catch.
It takes me thirty minutes to shower and pack and get downstairs. It takes thirty seconds to write the note.
It takes everything I have to creep into her room and leave it there. She's sleeping sound and so beautiful, so beautiful. I want to climb into bed with her and wake her up. I want her to swear to me that last night wasn't a mistake and she has to – she has to – make me believe that she doesn't regret it. Any of it.
Please don't regret the best night of my life, beautiful, beautiful girl.
In three weeks she'll be in L.A. In three weeks, I'll know.
I sip my Jack and Coke on the plane, ignoring the look from the stewardess because it's only ten in the morning, and wonder how I'll make it through the next three weeks.
Now that I've had her, her body, her smiles, her words whispered soft in my ear? Now that I've had that, I can't go back.
There's nothing for me that isn't her.
AN: Beta'd by FDM and DameNellie, who have both my hearty thanks, and my eternal love.