December, 2012

The bed dips.

Through the haze of lingering sleep and a dream I can't quite remember, I'm surrounded by warmth. Clean, naked skin still damp from a hot shower presses against me. Hands pull me back against a hard chest. Fingers make their way over my stomach, across my breasts and along the curve of my neck before gently tugging on the lobe of my ear.

I breathe the smell of soap in deeply.

I'm not quite awake yet, but I'm getting there.

"I'm sorry I'm late," he murmurs.

"It's okay," I whisper back. "You're here now."




May, 2012

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

I hear the words over and over in my head. I hear them, but I can't say them. I hear them, but they're my words…and I want them to be his words, too. I want to hear them in his voice, him emotion, his heart.

"You want me," he whispers. It almost sounds like a question, but it's not. He knows. He knows because I told him. "Tell me again."

So I offer him my heart with my words. One more time.

"You," I tell him, pulling myself closer, clutching his face hard in my hands, looking in his eyes and kissing him again. "I want you."



His lips cover my lips, and I breathe his breath. He grips me tight, his body covering me, on top of me. I want to close my eyes, to feel, to fully experience what I know is about to come, but I don't want to look away because his face has been missing from my life for so long.

My legs fall to the side, making room for him to press against the center of my body. I'm still wet from him. I'm still wet for him. I want to feel him – I want to know that he's hard. That he wants me just as much.

He reaches between us; his hand moves down my side, over my hip. His lips are wet as they cross my cheek, and small, short gasps and pants fill my ear.

"Are you sure?"

I nod my head; I whisper, "Yes."

So much, so much, so much.

I want this so fucking much.

He licks my neck, his mouth open and hot. And it feels so good, I can't help the whimper that escapes me. He bites down gently on my shoulder as he lifts me higher, pulls me closer to him.

"So good," I moan.

"I'm gonna make this so good," he says.

His cock presses against the opening of my pussy; I whimper and spread my legs wider, wanting him inside me. All the way inside me.

"Bella," he moans my name.

And he's so close that I could just shift up and take him in, but I wait. It kills me, but I wait for him. I've waited for him – for this – for so fucking long.

"Please," I whimper, and I don't even care that I sound like I'm begging. I am begging. "Please, Edward."

My fingernails dig into the skin of his shoulders, and just for a moment, his eyes close. His head falls back and it looks like he's in pain. And in that moment I know that his pain and my pain are the same.

Our need is the same.

Everything – all of it – has been the same for both of us.

His eyes open. They pierce me. They see me. They want me.

And he thrusts.




December, 2012

He's still damp, but it's not from the shower. He smells like me, like us, like sex.

Like our sex.

I settle against his chest. My fingers trail softly across his stomach. His hand strokes my back while the other one pulls my thigh further across him. His cock is still warm and wet…soft. And I love it. I love that it means he was just inside me.

"Do you think it will always be like this?" he asks.

I kiss his nipple; I bite it softly before licking it. I love the way it makes him moan. I love even more the way he pulls me closer.

"Like what?" I ask. "In the middle of the night while I'm still half-asleep and you're exhausted from work?"

He laughs. Even though it's silent and I can't see him, I can feel the movement of his chest against my cheek.

"What we just did," he murmurs slowly, his hands caressing my belly and then up and over my breasts. "Did that feel like I was exhausted?"

His thumbs and fingers play with my nipples, twisting them gently before rubbing them softly. And I rub my leg across his cock, wondering if it's too soon for him to get hard again.

"What we just did felt pretty fucking amazing," I tell him, looking up, so I can see his eyes illuminated by the light outside our window.

I can feel him growing hard again beneath my leg; I rub across his cock gently before sliding my leg down and reaching down to take him in my hand. He feels full, heavy, a little sticky and wet from before. I love it. I swipe my thumb across the head. He whimpers and his mouth finds mine, wet and already panting. And he breathes into me, "Do you want to do it again?"




May, 2012

The feeling of Edward inside me is something I never thought I'd forget. Not in ten years…or even a hundred. But the stretching, the almost burning sensation of being filled by him is almost too much to handle. And I realize that my memory of him – of this – never did him justice.

"Fuck," he hisses, a moan emanating from deep in his throat. "So…so tight…so good."

He stills, his eyes close and everything around me disappears. He is everything in the entire world. Over me, around me…inside me. I see the tension in his face, the rapid pulse beating in his neck. I feel the slower pulsing inside my pussy.

"You feel so good," he rasps, opening his eyes and looking down at me. "So tight…so fucking wet. I…I can't…"

"Please," I whimper. "Please, Edward…move. I want….I need…it feels..."

He kisses me deep, hard, fast. And then he shifts his hips, pulling almost all the way out.

"What?" he asks. "What do you feel?"

"Too much," I whimper. "Just…just everything. It's been too long."

My words trigger something inside him. I see it in his face. I feel it in the protective way he pulls me up, closer against him. His hands grip my shoulders and in one quick movement, he thrusts back inside…and he begins to fuck me.

The room is silent except for the sounds of our sex. Panting breaths and sliding skin…and wet noise as he pushes inside me over and over again. My hands grip his shoulders, his back. And his hands make their way down to my ass, as he holds me.

I follow his eyes to where he's watching himself slide in and out. And I don't know where I want to look more. Watching him, watching his cock take me is incredibly erotic. But seeing the expression on his face is so much more. The way he wants this – the way he wants me – is beyond any ecstasy I have ever known. It's more…it's everything. And I lose myself to him all over again.

"I can't live without you," he pants as he hunches over me, still pressing into me. His movements have sped, his breathing erratic. "Not after…not now…this…this….this…"

His words are too much.

I can't process them while he's with me like this.

"So close," he breathes sloppily into my ear. "So…oh, god, Bella…can you come?"

"Close," I cry. "Don't stop."

"Please, baby," he says, his mouth kissing me, his tongue sloppy and wet and he bites down on my chin and then my neck. "Please…come on me, Bella. Please…come for me again."

I'm close, but not there. And I know he's not going to last. His whole body tenses as he throws his head back. And I feel his cock swell inside me just as he begins to empty hot and thick and wet inside me.

"I love you," he cries. "I love you, Bella…so fucking much."

And with that – his words, his declaration in a moment when I know he's telling the truth – my emotions trigger my body, and I come along with him. On him as he collapses on top of me.

"I love you, too," I cry, meaning it. ""I'm so in love with you."




December, 2012

The sun shines through the slit in the curtains of our bedroom.

Our bedroom.

I open my eyes, waking to the sound of his heart beating slow and steady.

I kiss him softly on the chest because I can. Because he's here with me, and I can. I don't know if I'll ever get used to the feeling again. Having him here in my life. Our life. I don't move because I don't want to wake him. He's been working so many long hours at the hospital. He constantly apologizes, and I constantly remind him to stop because long hours are nothing compared to the years without him.

I close my eyes, settling back down against him. I'm not really sleepy, but there's nothing I'd rather do than lie here in his arms. But I feel the quickening of his heart, I feel the slight pull and flex of his muscles as he stretches.

"Good morning, baby," he says, his voice thick and full and raspy with sleep.

"Shhhh…" I hush hm. "Go back to sleep."

He laughs quietly.

I smile against his skin.

"Are you still tired?" he asks.

"No," I tell him. "But I know you have to be."

"I'm okay," he says, pulling me closer, wrapping me up in his warm arms. He kisses the top of my head, and I shiver.

He still makes me shiver.

"When do you have to go back to work?" I ask.

His hands trail down my back, over my ass. He squeezes and pulls, lifting me over him. I settle on his waist. Watching him watch me. This position still feels new to me. But he tells me he likes to watch me on top of him. He likes my breasts. And I blush thinking about it. Even more as I see him looking at me.

His hands slide up my sides, as he cups me fully in his hands. His thumbs brush across my nipples softly.

Both of us grow hard.

"Not until tomorrow night," he tells me, smiling, his eyes never leaving my breasts.

"I get almost two whole days with you?" I ask, the excitement in my voice evident.

He smiles up at me.

"Yeah," he nods. "Did you have anything in mind to fill all that time?"

"A few things," I whisper, lifting up and taking him inside.

And we make love slowly, sweetly. With whispered words that seem quiet against the sounds of our bodies and the city outside.

When we're done and lying together, I tell him, "I'm sorry you're having to work so much."

"It comes with the job," he says.

"Do you…do you ever regret coming here? I would have come to Seattle to be with you."

He pulls me close, his breath warm in my ear. "I haven't had a single regret since May. This is the happiest I've ever been in my life, Bella. You know that, right?"

I don't think about the ten years that separated us anymore. He's filled every void, every corner of my empty life without him. But right now I remember everything, every year, every day, every single moment without him.

Edward was always meant to be the one.

It just took us a long time to accept it.

Some might say that it took us too long. That there were too many wasted years. But the truth is, I don't know that I could be any happier than I am right now. Even if we'd never been apart. And I can't spend another ten years wondering, thinking about all the things we missed. Because I would miss this – moments like this – along the way.

And I don't want to waste another minute.

I look up at him and he smiles. It's devastating how beautiful it is. How beautiful he is.

"I know," I tell him, smiling back and then kissing him softly. "Me too."





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