Deeper And Deeper Edwards First

14

I tried to enjoy the water, the warmness of it lapping against my cold body, but it was Bella's body that commanded my attention.

Remain in control,

I ordered myself

. Nothing that causes even the slightest hint of pain.

My free hand flexed into a tight ball and my frame tensed. I was checking my resolve.

Bella's blood smelled even better in this hot, humid climate. It was a good thing I'd just spent 12 hours locked into a plane beside her, with her blood and the blood of the other passengers recycling around me and building in potency. Otherwise I wasn't sure if I could stand to be this close to her, so unprotected by clothes or distance.

As it was, the scent torched my throat, but it wasn't anything I hadn't learned to live with for months. My muscles coiled for attack, and my stomach contracted, but it wasn't just for her blood. No, there was something else, something dancing with my killer instinct, a deep, crushing need I had kept bottled all those months I'd unfurled myself from her desperate embrace when the desire to kill her became stronger than my love for her... They had all prepared me for this night, for this moment, when my new bride and I would touch, whole body to whole body, for the first time.

The new hunger built in me. As soon as I said I would try--just

try

, as I had promised--I unleashed it a tiny bit. I gave in to the hope that the faith she and Esme and Carlisle had put in me might be justified. I looked at her now, her milky white skin rippling below the clear, tranquil water off Isle Esme, and the fire grew stronger in me. Again I was mesmerized by her bravery. Anyone else would not bring their naked, pulsing body anywhere close to to me. And yet, here was my wife, pushing up to float on her back, slipping past me, eyes closed and relaxed. Thank God for that, I supposed.

The water rippled upon me from her movement, breaking below the surface against my stomach, my member, my whole body shuddering. And then to gaze upon her: Her translucent skin glowing in the moonlight, her bare breasts-- I caught my breath. I had imagined them every time I'd held her close, every time she had pressed into me, every time she gasped at our kisses. I had memorized the sensation of her breasts pressing against my chest. They had left a shadow behind them, burned themselves hotly into my chest.

But now she was leisurely breaking the surface of the water, her eyes closed, reaching behind her to languidly propel herself along. Her breasts moved higher upon her ribcage when she did it. They seemed even more translucent than the rest of her, laced through with delicate blue veins leading up to dusty brown and then rose pink nipples. They were small but strained away from Bella's body. As she passed me, I saw how the water glinted up from her belly button, and then clung to the soft chestnut hairs leading to the cleft in her legs.

I swam under her, using the fact that I didn't need to breath to my advantage. As I passed, I reached up shyly and ran my fingertips gently across her hamstrings, her soft buttocks, her arched back. It felt remarkable, glistening through my hand and flooding my body. I swam quickly ahead her and turned to catch her. She gasped in surprise and then curled into my waiting arms.

"You're right, the water's wonderful," she whispered, her eyes sleepy with desire. Her arm wrapped around me and stroked the hairs on my neck.

I was tense. Shy, despite the longing that was making me braver by the second. I arranged my face into a soft smile, and looked down at her. I had a 50-50 chance of doing this without losing control. I could already feel it faltering. And then the caress of her bare breasts against my chest sent a hitch into my breath. I automatically pulled her closer. I gently pressed my lips to her, determined to maintain as much civility as I could for as long as I could.

As ever, Bella had other ideas. She wrapped her legs around me. I froze. She had done this before, but there had always been a quilt, a blanket, a jacket between us, protecting her from my chilly body. To feel her body pressed tight against me, the only thing between us an infinitesimally thin layer of water, made it feel as if I'd never held her, not really. As if we had never embraced, if this is what it could feel like. Suddenly her pulse felt like it was inside me--not signaling the monster in me but feeding my growing need. I wrapped my arms around her closely. We kissed deeper, but still as gently as I could manage with my breath coming shorter and more irregularly.

And then I couldn't help it, I pulled my lips from her face and ran them along her chin to her delicious-smelling neck down to her breast. Ahhh. It fit perfectly in my mouth. I opened wide and sucked almost all of it in, breathing deeply the baby-powder scent of her skin and the blood pulsing underneath. Bella murmured, an incomprehensible series of syllables that sighed into a coo. She ground herself further into me, wrapping her arm around my neck to pull me closer, her lips nuzzling into my wet hair. To be enclosed in her scent was heavenly and unbearable.

I made the executive decision to end the midnight swim. I had to see at my wife's beautiful body, again. Carefully, I shifted so that one hand was underneath her, providing her a seat. She didn't seem to notice except for scooting close to me and pressing her breast further into my mouth. I suddenly found my fingers playing along one cheek of her buttocks. The sensation sent little ripples of pleasure up my hand and through my body. Remarkable. As we left the water, as we left the water, one area of wetness and heat burned my stomach, where her legs parted and met my body. My breathing quickened.

I eased down to my knees and placed her gently on the sand. Reaching up to kiss her face, I gasped her name.

"I need to see you," I said roughly.

Hesitantly, I released her from my grasp and sat back on my heels. And there she was, a gift from the fates. Her translucent skin stretched softly over her ribs and hips and thighs. I drank her in greedily with my eyes. First her deep, chocolate eyes, wide, but with a different expression than I had ever seen. She wasn't dazzled. She wasn't holding her breath. She wasn't blank. She was here, and her eyes were determined, focused in a way they'd never been.

She watched me and her eyes silently encouraged me on. Her face was red and she pressed her teeth down upon her full bottom lip in a way that told me she was holding something back too, being patient with my resolve. Her breathing came quickly between her barely parted lips. Then her neck, which had been part of my daily regimen of pleasure and pain as I allowed myself to become desensitized to her scent. Her arms, strong, and her hands, clasping and releasing the sand around her, as she writhed lightly under my gaze.

And then again, her breasts. Her soft, small breasts pooled upon her ribs so exquisitely, so invitingly. Her nipples strained toward me. Bella breathed deeply and the movement pushed her breasts up toward me further. Her ribcage gave way to a delicate waist and then gave way to full hips. And there, below her hips was a barely visible trail of soft chestnut hair that expanded to a tuft, wet and dripping with water from the ocean.

My lips parted. I wanted to speak, but there were no words strong enough to describe the beauty of her body. I merely breathed deep and tentatively placed my hands lightly on her ribs. She sighed and her breasts heaved. I leaned down to kiss her between her breasts. I kissed her again, running my nose up to her soft breast, placing one nipple in my mouth. She gasped and I pulled away.

She rolled her eyes, flinging her arms toward me and beckoning me back. "Good sound, Edward. Very, very good."

I complied. I sucked a nipple into my mouth, swallowing the brine of the sea water and tasting the milky, baby-powder scent of her skin that mingled with the floral, almost sweet scent of her blood. My other hand came up to gently press into her other breast, and Bella's back arched beneath me. She wanted more. Her legs spread and rose to wrap around me again.

And that's when I smelled it.

The smell.

Her

smell. I breathed deeply and it scorched my throat. But it was more than that. Behind the scent of her blood, the overpowering, wrecking ball of it, was an earthier, more pungent scent. I closed my eyes and followed the scent, unleashing my instincts just a little, testing them.

I ran my nose along her ocean-damp skin to the cleft in her legs. There, her femoral artery pulsed quickly, beating hard against her skin. And then it hit me. My breathing became ragged, powerless. Her... sex--I would not defile her by calling it any of the vulgar names I had heard in countless minds through the decades. But her

sex

. It was dizzying. Buttery, intense, with an edge of saltiness. It was better than any blood. Better, even, than her blood.

I already knew her blood had the power to destroy me--and, more pointedly, her. I had discovered with some horror that the rain clinging to her made her smell even better. Now, poised above her sweet sex, with her blood pulsing so close to the surface, filling up all her most tender, delicate folds, I realized the deep truth: Sex made her smell best of all... It turned out there was a kryptonite that

could

control me. This was it. Bella's delicious, heady perfume: her blood, the salt water clinging to her, the irresistible fragrance wafting from her now.

This

was the scent. This is what drew me to her from the beginning.

My breath staggered and my mouth filled with venom and saliva. I wanted her. I needed to taste her. A thrill shot through me. This time, in this way, I could taste her. And she was laying there, her breath staggering also, wishing me to.

She was mine.

I leaned my head down to taste her. She had flung an arm over her face, her deep chocolate eyes hidden in the crease of her elbow. I couldn't have that right now. Least of all now, when I couldn't read her mind and I was so at risk of losing control of all my faculties, everything about her calling me to abandon my careful restraint. I reached up and gently brushed her arm aside. I caressed her cheek and she leaned her face into my palm, inhaling deeply and sighing. Not a contented, languid sigh but a fiery, broken one, one that told me without reading her mind that she wanted me too, that she needed me.

It wasn't at all as difficult as I'd imagined, and that realization emboldened me. I'd told her once that I could reach up to brush her cheek and end up crushing her skull. But now, with her warm, eager body under me, with her sex in my mouth, I could do nothing to hurt her. I could only bring her pleasure. I hoped I could, anyway.

Just then, her head tilted again and her lips parted into my palm. I rubbed my thumb gently across them. So naturally that I didn't expect it, she took my thumb in her mouth and started sucking.

I lost my breath and it whooshed chillily around her folds. She sucked a bit harder and cooed.

All my composure, all the restraint I'd built up over decades, started its slow crumble. I dipped my head down and took a sip of her. She was delicious. I was becoming greedy, giving in to my selfish nature. I wanted to nuzzle in here forever, memorizing her folds, her responses, to be surrounded by her pleasure and her need forever. And I could; I didn't need to breath. Still, my chest heaved unevenly, gulping at her flavor and at the heady scent of her. My tongue moved of it's own will. I slurped, swallowing her wetness. I couldn't believe how wet she was. Had she always been?

I wondered if my touch that first night I stayed with her at Charlie's house--the first night

she

knew I was there, when she said I drove her crazy--I wondered if she'd been this wet then. I had no idea her body was capable of this. Nor did I conceive of how urgent her desire was as her hips rocked into me repeatedly and her breathing became louder, a command all their own. I licked up and down her wet folds, feeling her pulse under my tongue. It was miraculous, as if her pulse was all around me, as if her delicate membrane of skin had become that much more bare, that much more inviting. I was doing this to her, I marveled. To think on my very first try I was giving her some portion of the pleasure she gave me.

I tried to give her more. I sucked at her lips. I located a hard, straining nub and sucked on it lightly at first, assessing whether this would cause her pleasure or pain. She... growled. A soft, tiger-kitten growl that launched me further upon her. I wanted inside her, all the way, as far as I could get. I was aware that the pleasure she felt was rippling down by body. Every sound, every movement, every suck of her mouth upon my cold thumb made me shudder.

I sucked again on the nub, feeling her wetness trickle down my chin. I regretfully moved my thumb from her mouth, something she resisted, straining after it. But I placed my hand upon one heaving breast and she laid flat. Her pulse quickened under my hand, under my tongue. If I'd had a pulse, mine would have responded in kind. Instead, it was as if her heartbeat, her sweat, dewing up and mixing with the damp ocean water on her skin, were flowing through

my

veins, as if her blood flowing to her soft and inviting and warm folds were feeding my own growing desire.

I felt my member twitch with the sensation. I moved my hand upon her thigh, asking, silently, for her to open herself more to me, to give me more of herself. She willingly complied. A thrill shot through me, nearly stinging my hardening member with desire. I could feel it growing.

I sucked on her, licked her, and when I couldn't take any more, placed one long finger inside of her. I was worried that my cold hands would be uncomfortable for her, but instead her breath caught and she angled her hips to take more of my finger. She was inviting me inside her. I moaned quietly, exhaling my last store of oxygen.

"Please," she sighed. Her tiger-kitten growl returned.

So I did. Anything for her. Everything for her. I glided my finger around her sex, slipping deeper and deeper, lost in the remarkable sensation of it. I memorized the valleys and nubs inside of her, seeking the softest, most tender part and pressing into it, exploring it. The sensation shimmered through my hand, leaving my cold, hard skin hot, burning it, sending the sensation through the ropes of muscles at my shoulders, at my neck, down my back, tensing my buttocks. It was impossible, but I was on fire.

"More," she breathed, timidly, I thought. She wanted more of me. Could I give her more? I couldn't give her all, I knew that, as much as I longed to take her deeply and roughly. I had to maintain some control. I thought again of my earlier warning:

Reaching to caress and instead crushing

. Her blood pulsed close, singing to me.

I settled for inserting another finger into her sex, and I was rewarded with a shudder of delight from her. Her hips bucked. I could do this forever. I was lost in her pleasure, in her joy, in how her pleasure fed my own. But it seemed clear that she could not last forever. Her breath was coming faster, panting, sighing, kitten growling. Her urgency ignited a mirror urgency in me. I pressed harder, deeper. I couldn't imagine anything feeling better than this. I moved faster, in time with her breathing.

"Oh! Oh!" she chanted. Was I hurting her? I slowed.

She whipped her head up, frantic irritation in her eyes. On her face had bloomed the most inviting splotches of swirling red. "Don't... stop!" she panted. I smiled at her expression and picked up the pace. I would have to trust her ohs and her "pleases" to mean what I hoped they meant. I was beyond being able to judge for myself now. This beautiful, warm, trusting creature writhing under me--in pleasure it seemed!--wanted more. I could give her more. I hoped what I could give would be enough for her. And never more than she wanted.

And then her sex began contracting, sucking at my fingers. What a remarkable sensation. It was as if her mouth were sucking on me, as if she couldn't get enough of me. I buried a third finger into her, sucked more on her. I heard a fierce growl rip from my throat.

"Oh, oh Edward!" my dear Bella grunted. My body sang in response to her tone. I'd never heard her say my name so powerfully, so commandingly. I was hers now, too. I realized. I was really hers.

She grunted and sighed and convulsed and I relished her warm, soft, trusting body, under me. I breathed in her scent deeply. I growled again. "Bella." I pressed my fingers into her carefully, slowing my fervor to her human pace, praying that she was not hurt by my need for her.

"Ooooohhh!" She moaned. Her fingers, sandy from digging into the white sand around her, twisted into my hair, pressed me further into her, mashing my lips and teeth and nose into her strong scent. I could have easily resisted, but I allowed her to pull me in deeper, as deep as she would have me. I felt her sex hold me tight, contract in deep waves. If I were a human man, I can imagine it might have hurt. My jaw might ache. As it was, it felt like a child holding my hand, soft but clinging as hard as its little muscles could strain. I loved it.

I loved her body. I had since the day I'd seen that deep blue blouse clinging to her curves and turning her skin to cream. But to have her now, naked, shaking under me, her translucent white thighs spread wide for me and her rose-pink nipples pressing up and out, I felt honored. Blessed, if I were not damned, that she had chosen me, given me her sex. I continued to stroke her, gently now, unwilling to give up her scent, to leave her warm, wet, all-powerful embrace. Yes, I could have overpowered her in an instant. But for her to give herself to me like this, I felt humbled, awed by her. She had always believed in me, in my ability to do this without injuring her, had always looked at me as if I were trustworthy. Tonight, perhaps I was. Hope sang in me, mixing with my pleasure.

I pulled my lips away from her sex and slowly allowed my fingers to slip from her wet embrace. I was breathing deep, my face resting on her soft mound. I turned and kissed her on the crook of her leg, just where the artery beat strongest.

*****

I pulled up and watched her carefully. Her eyes were closed, denying me insight into her thoughts. Her chest still heaved, more gently now. A soft, satisfied smile drifted to her face and stayed there.

I leaned toward her, pressing my cheek to her chest, the moist contracting of her heart slowing my breathing, too. My hands slid under her back, holding her just under the shoulder blades, bringing her to me. Her cool breast was inches from me. I could not stop myself. I snaked out my tongue to caress her nipple with it.

Bella's arms, warm and soft,

silk over glass,

I reminded myself, wrapped around my neck, caressing my wet face.

"Hmmmmm," she cooed. I smiled as she rocked me slightly and kissed my hair.

And then she seemed to collect herself ever so slightly. She pushed me away gently, stealing her nipple from my hungry mouth. "Oh no," she said hoarsely. "It's my turn now."

Just then I looked up at her, her satisfied, sleepy smile arranging into an intense gaze, a more determined set to her full lips. My.... cock--I would have to get used to these terms, to this part of my body that hand been a vestigial organ until I met Bella--was still throbbing. It made me feel... alive in her embrace.

I looked at her shyly. She'd already given me more pleasure than I could have imagined. Could I take more? Would I

really

lose control then? I wanted to hold her closer, but she denied me. Funny how her withholding, even a little after all she'd given this evening, stoked the fire in me.