I woke up the following morning determined to do my best to make it up to Bella, even though I had no illusions that I’d ever be able to compensate for the loss of Alice. She was, for all intents and purposes, the only real family Bella had. Though my parents loved Bella almost as much as I did and I knew she could rely on them for just about anything she would ever need, Bella didn’t see it that way. Now, thanks to me, Bella had lost the only person who had ever loved her by choice with any permanence. Of course, I had every intention of loving Bella forever, but she seemed unable to wrap her mind around the idea. I knew the only way to convince her would be to stay with her until the days turned into months and the months into years and the years into the rest of our lives, one quarter note at a time.
Making as little noise as possible, I got out of bed and carefully tucked Bella back under the covers. For three minutes and twenty-two seconds, I watched her sleep. The vision of Bella in my bed was something I’d often imagined, usually while pumping my junk. The reality was nothing like the fantasy. She wasn’t bent over as I took her from behind, nor was she biting the corner of a pillow with her knees bent over my shoulders as I plowed into her. I wasn’t licking her clit as she swallowed my cock. Instead, she spent her first evening in my bed clothed in one of my t-shirts and and trembling, not as a result of ecstasy but from nerves and fear.
Even though she’d washed her face before bed, it was still evident she’d spent most of the previous day in tears. Her face was pale and puffy, and somehow she looked exhausted even while sleeping. If only there were a way to convince her that though she felt alone, she wasn’t. She had me, and I was willing to do whatever it took to prove to her that I wouldn’t be going anywhere. I knew she wasn’t ready to make a commitment to me, but I was ready to make one to her. I’d proudly let her mark me with a ring and shout to whomever was willing to listen that even if she didn’t belong to me yet, I belonged to her. At the same time, I knew she would never take me seriously because I couldn’t even vote. I’d always thought I could do anything, but for the first time in my life, I felt limited by things I could not control.
I decided to let my actions speak for themselves and hoped she understood. I crept downstairs and found my father sitting at the island in the kitchen.
“How’s Bella holding up?” he asked, looking up from his laptop.
“Is there anything you and Mom don’t talk about?”
I poured myself a cup of coffee and realized I didn’t even want to think about the implications of his statement.
“Bella’s still asleep. I’m going to make an omelet and bring it up to her in bed.”
My dad put his mug down as coffee came out through his nose. “Good luck with that.”
“I can cook, you know. Remember Mom’s birthday? I made dinner that night.”
“Oh, I remember,” he said still laughing. “I remember Bella standing next to you and telling you step by step what to do.”
“That’s because lasagna is complicated. I’m competent enough to make simpler things without help. Bella has been giving me cooking lessons. What else do you think we do all day?”
He gave me his patented that-should-be-obvious-Edward look, and I realized the corner I’d just painted myself into.
“Oh,” I said, blushing. “Well, we do that, too.”
He walked his cup over to the sink. “Try not to burn the house down.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Dad. Whatever happened to believing in your offspring no matter what?”
“That’s why you have a mother.” He gathered up his things and walked toward the door. “If you need anything, page me or your mom. She has appointments until seven, but after that she should be home. I love you.”
“I love you, too, Dad.”
He opened the door and stepped out onto the landing before poking his head back inside. “If the kitchen fills with smoke, call 911.”
Before I could formulate a comeback, he’d closed the door and was headed out to his car, still laughing.
He could mock me all he wanted. I knew I was more than capable of making Bella breakfast. I got to work preparing the tray. Knowing how much Bella appreciated presentation, I used the breakfast china and silver, even going so far as to cut a rose from our garden and put it in a bud vase next to the teacup. Pleased with my efforts, I brought the loaded tray upstairs.
When I opened my bedroom door, Bella was awake and about to get out of bed. I could see her nipples through my shirt she’d slept in, and her hair was everywhere.
I wanted to forget about breakfast and get her naked, but I reminded myself she was emotionally fragile right now and needed my support, not my semen. Of course, I could always offer her both, but I really should feed her first.
“Good morning. I have something for you. Stay right where you are.”
She rested her back against the pillows. “This makes me nervous.”
I retrieved the tray from the hallway and placed it across her lap. “Breakfast is served.”
“Impressive, Cullen. Did you make all this yourself?”
“I did indeed.”
She looked at me through narrowed eyes. “Are you trying to get lucky?”
“What makes you think I have an ulterior motive? I could simply have wanted to surprise the woman I love with a meal I prepared for her.”
She considered that for a moment before responding. “Thank you, Edward. This was very sweet of you.”
She began to eat, and from time to time, I would insist on feeding her. Her lips would wrap around my fingers, sucking them gently, and I wondered how they would feel around my cock. As much as I wanted head, it felt wrong to ask her for it. Despite her insistence to the contrary, I couldn’t imagine she got anything out of sucking dick. So far, she’d offered to blow me exactly eight times—one was after the first time I told her I loved her, no doubt hoping to distract me from the fact she had not returned the sentiment, and the other seven were after she’d made various statements that at the time hurt my feelings. I declined, because I didn’t want obligatory oral. That being said, if she didn’t offer again soon I might be tempted to revise my policy.
“Thank you, Edward. That was wonderful,” she said when she was finished.
I moved the tray to the floor and sat on the bed by Bella’s feet. Her legs were folded in front of her and I could see her panties underneath my t-shirt.
Fuck being a gentleman.
“Of course,” I began, “I wouldn’t mind at all if you were so completely overwhelmed with gratitude you felt compelled to take off your shirt.”
Bella laughed. “So all this…” She pointed at the tray, then angled her index finger toward her breasts. “…was actually about these?”
“It usually is.”
“Are we alone?”
“My parents are at work.”
“Okay, then.” She placed her cup on my nightstand before lifting my shirt up over her head. Sitting on my bed with her legs spread in just panties, she picked her cup back up and brought it to her lips.
Her underwear was darker on the crotch, and I licked my lips involuntarily.
“Why do I get the feeling that had nothing to do with breakfast?” she asked.
I leaned across the bed and took one of her nipples between my thumb and forefinger. “I feel terrible for wanting your body so badly, and I know that after the day you had yesterday, it would be inappropriate for me to initiate anything. But Bella, I can’t help it. And I have so many fantasies that involve taking you here in my bed.” I replaced my hand with my lips, and gently sucked her nipple into my mouth.
She put down her cup. “Are you sure we’re alone?”
In one swift motion, she pulled my shirt over my head. Her hands trailed down my chest and unzipped my pants. As my tongue entered her mouth, her hand entered my boxers. She squeezed me as we kissed, and I decided I was done with foreplay. I broke our kiss and hopped off the bed, stripping out of my pants and underwear. I grasped her ankles in my hands and pulled her to edge of the bed before running my hands up the inside of her legs. I brushed over her panties, then hooked my fingers underneath them and pulled them off her.
Just as she had in so many of my fantasies, Bella lay in front of me on my bed, naked with her legs spread. I’d imagined her exactly like this more times than even I could count. Though I’d seen and touched Bella’s nude body before, I’d never done so in the room where most of my fantasies took place, nor had I ever performed an in-depth comparison of the fantasy and the reality.
Real Bella’s areolas were larger than I thought they’d be, and despite always wearing sunblock, the skin around her breasts was a few shades lighter than the rest of her. There were three tiny scars on her abdomen and one above her belly button—the former from an appendectomy and the latter from a piercing gone wrong. I knew these things, because Real Bella talked to me about more than my cock, her pussy and existentialism. Real Bella was not simply a means to an orgasm or an ego boost; she was fragile, funny and human.
Real Bella meant more to me than I could have ever imagined.
She whined something about hating to be kept waiting, so I pulled her to her feet and bent her over my bed. I palmed her ass and spread her cheeks, studying her from this angle. Her asshole was small and looked almost sealed shut. I wanted to play with it, to see if it would stretch to accommodate my cock, but I had no idea if Bella would be okay with that. I made a mental note to ask her some other time and settled my hands on each of her hips. I plowed into her from behind, marveling at how tight she felt from this angle.
As I moved inside her, my hands explored the front of her body while my mouth nuzzled her neck. “I love you so much,” I whispered before sucking her earlobe into my mouth.
I came, and we collapsed on the bed in a heap. Just when I was beginning to feel like a douche for not giving her an orgasm, she rolled onto her back and smiled.
“That was exactly what I needed.”
“There’s plenty more where that came from,” I assured her.
“You made another omelet? Because I was totally referring to food.”
I tickled her and she started to wrestle with me. In forty-two seconds, I had her arms pinned over her head and her body stretched out beneath me.
“You’ve got me right where you want me,” she said, giggling.
I played along with her and nodded.
“What are you going to do with me?”
I pressed my mouth against hers and was hard again three seconds later.
She wrapped her legs around my waist, and I slid inside her. When I began to move, I did so slowly, withdrawing almost completely before pressing forward. I realized that I could stimulate her clit if I moved my hips just so on the downstroke, and before I knew it, she was biting my shoulder as her muscles tightened around me, making me come.
I stayed inside her until her breathing returned to normal, at which point I rolled onto my side and pulled her into my arms.
“You’re shivering.” I pulled the comforter around us and tried to warm her with my body.
She pushed it away. “I’m not cold.”
“But you’re shaking. Are you all right?”
Ah, a post-coital bliss thing. I must be getting better at it.
“Was it good?” I asked.
“It was amazing. I’d never come from sex before. I mean, just actual penetration. I mean, I have, but usually only with direct clit play. Do you know what I mean?”
I shook my head. I had no idea what she meant, and wondered if I made so little sense after sex.
“Intercourse, Edward! I mean intercourse.”
“What about it?”
“I’d never come from just intercourse,” she said, articulation finally reclaiming her.
“Until now?” I asked.
“Yes, until now.”
“I did that to you.”
“Yes,” she said. “You did this to me.”
Oh, yes, I did. Because I was a sex machine—a teacher-fucking deity.
I, Edward Cullen, was a god. I should write a how-to manual and have disciples worshiping me for my mad clitoral stimulation skills. I didn’t even use my hand this time. Just my cock.
My cock for the win, and if it were erect enough to stand, it would get up and take a bow.