It's a bit shorter than previous chapters but I thought it best to do it this way.
Title: It's Better When I Bleed For You
Characters/Pairings: Bella and the Cullens/All canon pairings
Spoilers: All books, I guess
Summary: I had never wished more fervently that I could bend time, that I could go back and never leave her, than I had when Alice had told me she was dead.
When Laurent and Bella cross paths in the meadow, Alice sees that Bella doesn't manage to escape before Laurent attacks her. Alice sees Laurent drinking from her and when everything goes black, Alice assumes it means the very worst for Bella.
What Alice can't see is the arrival of the werewolves, interrupting Laurent's meal.
Edward goes to Italy, but his attempted suicide is diverted by his loyal family, who eventually convince him to come back with them.
Eighty years later, the Cullens decide to relocate to Chicago...
Disclaimer: This genius is so not mine...because of its genius-ness...All things recognisable belong to Stephenie Meyer
Part X – You’ve been holding out on me…
I inhaled deeply, tracing the tip of my nose back up the line of her blouse and opened my eyes to watch a single droplet of water land on her collarbone. I watched as it left a watery trail over her pale skin, rolling down the slight curve of her breast before disappearing beneath the first button of her blouse.
I felt a ridiculous stab of resentment that I wasn’t that water-droplet…
We made it back to her house just before dawn, after an hour or two of floating in the river, watching the storm passing slowly overhead, moving northwest. She had asked, as we ran back, if we could go to her place instead of mine. She didn’t offer a reason, but she hadn’t needed to. I knew our family would be supportive, but I understood her need to be somewhere familiar while she collected herself. Today was bound to be a long one once the sun had risen. Despite whatever story Alice and Carlisle had managed to produce, Bella was going to be dragged into the investigation that was going to ensue—there was no escaping it.
And I didn’t like that. It meant that Bella was going to be thinking of what happened in her office—or more specifically, what had almost happened. And as I had truthfully told her back in the forest, I didn’t want her dwelling on it. It was over and she had resisted the freshest, boldest type of temptation there was.
But there was nothing I could do for it—we would just have to deal with everything as it came. However, I could make sure that she didn’t think about it until she had to.
So the horizon was turning golden-pink as we walked through the miniature rainforest that shielded the front of her house from the street. Watching her manoeuvre around the plants helped keep the delicious memories of watching her hunt fresh in my mind. I watched her climb the few steps to the front door in front of me, watching the movement of her legs as she walked. Barely thirty minutes ago, those legs had been wrapped around my waist while she rested on my chest in the river. Twenty-four hours before that, they had been around my waist as I pinned her against the window at home.
Now, I found myself extremely impatient to have them around my waist again…although this time, preferably without the clothing barriers.
She stopped a few steps ahead of me and I watched her knees bend slightly, watched her left heel rise off the step as she half turned to me.
I looked up at her and felt a smirk perk my lips as I took in the expression on her face.
She lifted an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth lifting only a little. Her golden eyes were smouldering as she looked at me. She knew I’d been watching her and she knew what I was thinking.
My smirk grew as I advanced on her. She turned to follow my movement, a small smile on her face. She stepped back as I stepped up to her, her molten eyes locked on mine, until she was pinned against her front door.
“I’m still waiting for you to remind me how I kissed you in the river the other day,” I growled softly as I leant in to kiss her. She put her hands on my forearms to pull me closer, letting out a single, breathy chuckle before our lips met.
It was nothing like kissing her as a human. I knew I shouldn’t make comparisons, that she didn’t want me to make them…but this was the one comparison I couldn’t not make.
There was no burning thirst in my throat to taunt me, no erratic heartbeat to sing to me, no body as fragile as a soap bubble under my hands…which all meant that there was no need for restraint. There was just the sweet taste of freesia as her tongue danced slowly, delicately, with mine; the feeling of her beautiful, substantial body with its modest curves under my hands, against my chest.
It was a comparison that came off so many thousand times better.
She stretched her body out along mine, much like she had before, with her arms snaking around my neck…but there was no other driving need behind the action this time. She wasn’t trying to seduce me into giving her what she wanted; she wasn’t trying to distract me—she just wanted to get closer.
I pulled her to me, holding her against me with as much strength as I could…and it still wasn’t enough. I growled—the pain of the thirst had long since disappeared, but the pain of wanting her, of needing her, was almost too much to bear.
She laughed softly, pulling away.
“I always knew you were holding out on me.”
I smiled and leaned in for another kiss, my head full of all the other things I’d been ‘holding out’ on her with. “And that’s only the kissing,” I teased.
Her eyes lit up as she caught her breath. Her fingers caressed my chin as she gently pushed me back. “Edward Anthony,” she said softly.
I smiled at her use of my middle name and pressed my body closer to hers, taking care not to press her against the door too hard—I didn’t want to damage the fragile wood. Her eyes took on a glazed look that told me all too well what I was doing to her.
Her index finger kept tracing along my chin as she watched my mouth.
“You’re doing it again.” Her voice was a breathless murmur.
I smirked, closing my eyes for a moment, skimming my nose over her temple and inhaling. “Doing what?” I tried asking innocently. My smile widened when her eyes snapped up to mine, to glare playfully at me.
“You know perfectly well what you’re doing,” she informed me.
“Sorry,” I teased again, leaning in close enough to kiss her. “I didn’t mean to dazzle you.”
The corner of her mouth lifted in a crooked smirk, her eyes on my mouth as she leant forward. “No, you never did.”
Our lips met, so soft, so gentle, that they were barely touching—just a tender, loving caress. Somehow, and for some reason, I restrained myself from kissing her properly, keeping the contact limited to barely any contact at all. Our lips hovered so close together, and yet so far away as we teased each other. She chuckled as her tongue tasted my upper lip.
I growled. “The sun’ll be up soon,” I muttered.
She hummed, licking my bottom lip before pulling away. With a coy smile on her face, she turned to open the door. She kept hold of my hand, pulling me inside, smiling at me the entire time.
It was a good thing that I had already been to her house, that I had already had time to explore the little marking stones that told the story of a period of her life that I hadn’t been around to witness—the collection of books, ranging from the classics of Austen and Shakespeare to the fantasy writing of Robin Hobb and Sarah Zettle, to the modern works of new-budding authors; the large, leather-bound photo album that held a range of graduation papers from places like Gresham High School in Wisconsin and Tolland High School in Connecticut, and degrees from the Minnesota School of Business, the University of Phoenix and—something that I found that made me extremely proud—another Honours Degree in English Literature from Dartmouth.
It was a very good thing, because now it meant I had nothing to distract me while I explored something else much more to my liking.
She pulled me along, guiding me to her bedroom—a large circular room where a third of the wall was a row of glass doors. She held onto me until we reached her bed, where she let go of me and spun to sit on the edge, bending her right leg back to rest her foot on the bed beside her so she could reach the small buckle that kept her shoe on her foot.
I put my hand over hers, curling my fingers around hers to stop her. I knelt down in front of her, kissing the knuckles of the hand I held as I slid my other hand down her calf, gently easing her leg off the bed and pulling her foot into my lap.
Slowly, taking my time, letting my fingertips trail softly over the skin of her ankle, I unbuckled the dainty little shoe—a world removed from the heavy, waterproof boots she used to wear—and eased it off her foot. Then, I threw the unwanted shoe over my shoulder, not caring where it landed.
Her laughter chimed breathlessly and I looked up at her, flashing my crooked smile, before picking up her other ankle and removing the other shoe. It flew over my shoulder to join the other.
I spread my hands on the back of her calves, slowly sliding them up her legs. My hands glided over her skin like it was velvet. I rose from where I knelt as my hands travelled higher, leaning into her as she slid a hand around my neck, pulling me with her as she leant back, keeping our faces close enough to kiss, but not kissing.
I moved over her as I turned my head slightly to nuzzle her neck, her breath coming quick against my jaw. Her hand around my neck fisted in the collar of my shirt. Threads snapped as she tore the material apart and pulled it off.
My laughter at her impatience turned into a groan as her hands moved over my chest, her nails tracing the outline of my muscles. A shudder racked through me and I pulled away to kneel above her. Her alabaster brow puckered in confusion until I pulled her up to met me.
We stared at each other, our faces less than four inches apart, as I pushed her satin blouse up her body. She lifted her arms, letting me push it up until I could pull it off. I could’ve just torn it off, like she had mine, but this way was so much better—to watch her eyes get even more molten as I touched her, to hear her quiet moan as my thumbs grazed the sides of her breasts, to feel her move under my hands as I glided them down her back…yes, my way was much more satisfying.
She pressed her forehead to mine, smiling gently at me before capturing my lips in a chaste kiss. I pulled her back with a hand around her neck when she pulled away, even as she pulled me back down onto the bed, her hands gliding down to my waist. My muscles contracted at her touch, another shudder racing through me. She seemed to enjoy the effect she was having on me, her lips curving into a smile as we kissed, a chuckle sounding deep in her throat.
Well, two could play at this game.
I kissed the corner of her mouth, where it was turned up in a smile, before kissing my way down her throat, smiling at the tiny moan of protest she made when I took my mouth away. My hand glided along her collarbone, pushing the ice-blue bra strap from her shoulder as my lips followed, leaving behind a trail of butterfly-light kisses.
Slowly, taking the time to taste all of the beautiful skin that my lips touched, I kissed my way down to the top of her breast, enjoying the way her breath hitched and became rapidly uneven. Very deliberately, I moved my kisses away, down the cleft between her breasts, and her hand clenched in my hair as the other clutched at my shoulder as her back arched slightly. I kissed and licked my way down her body until I reached the top of her skirt. I took it carefully between my teeth and gave it a gentle tug—enough to snap a few threads, but not enough to really damage the material.
I sat up again, aware that she was watching me as I refused to let myself meet her eyes.
She moaned softly as my hands slid around her to get to the zip at the back of her skirt, but I heard the snarl in the sound. I could feel my lips set in a small smirk.
“I like this outfit,” I explained softly and her breathless laughter chimed again.
I undid the zipper and she lifted her hips off the bed, wiggling them a little as I pulled the skirt down.
“How did you get into it?” I muttered, asking the question I’d been wondering since she’d walked into her office yesterday. I was utterly amazed by how well the skirt fit her form and hadn’t torn.
She laughed—a breathless, husky sound—but didn’t answer.
The skirt slid off easily enough with the combined effort and I tossed it aside on top of her blouse. I was entranced by the sight of her, but she wouldn’t let me look at her for too long. I smiled at her as I let her pull me back down.
“You’re beautiful,” I muttered, nuzzling her neck again.
Her hands glided over my arms as she kissed my jaw. “I think you might be biased.”
“Doesn’t mean it’s not true.” I placed a tender kiss under her ear. “Let me look at you.”
Her arms tightened around my neck for a moment, keeping me close, before she slid her hands down my chest and pushed me back a bit.
“Fair’s fair,” she said.
I raised an eyebrow at her, but it was the work of seconds to shed the last of my own clothes. The instinctive uncertainty I had vanished as though it had never been when I saw the look on her face as she looked at me. I gave her a quick kiss before pulling back far enough to look at her again, to drink in the sight of her.
But I had barely gotten past the gentle rise of her breasts when she pulled me back down with a hungry snarl.
“Enough looking,” she snarled.
Only because there would be plenty of time later—and I intended on using that time wisely—did I let her pull me back down.
If I had any fears of how to go about making love to her, they were drowned and overridden by desire and instinct. The incessant need for her that I had been feeling ever since that day in the meadow, that had suddenly flared back to life when I saw her bounce out of the bookshop those few days ago, overrode everything. It was effortless to surrender myself to my instincts, to loose myself in the feel of her, the scent of her.
My world narrowed down to her—the sounds she made as I moved my body against hers—the soft moans and the quiet whimpers; the movement of her body—the way her back arched against my chest and her hips bucked against mine; the way she was kissing me—her lips brushing along the line of my jaw and nipping at my ear. Every little move, every little sound she made, I was intensely aware of.
I watched her as I moved over her, watched her close her eyes and tilt her head back as she bit her lip. I inhaled the scent at her throat before tasting it. Her hand slid into the hair at the nape of my neck as I nibbled my way down the smooth column, her other hand tightening on my bicep as she pulled herself up and against me, my name escaping her lips in a quiet moan. Her teeth grazed my ear before she pressed her lips to my neck. I groaned and pressed my face into her shoulder, my body responding with thrusts that kept going deeper, causing her breathless moans to get louder in my ear.
She moaned my name against my shoulder, and I turned my head at the same time she did to capture her mouth in a kiss. We both groaned into it, the feeling almost too intense for either of us. Bella’s groan ended in a whimper and she pulled away from it, panting, her body beginning to shake. She pressed her forehead to mine, her eyes closed, her hand clenched tight in my hair. I skimmed my nose along her cheekbone, a growl rumbling in my chest. Her laugh was barely more than a breathy pant and ended in one of those beautifully feminine mewling noises as her head dropped back.
There was a plea in the way she moaned my name this time. My body’s response to it was to pull her closer, creating less distance and more friction. Her arms and legs tightened around me as she pulled herself closer, pressing her face into my neck. I turned to do the same as my body continued to move increasingly faster. Our groans mingled in the air, Bella’s voice rising above mine as her body came undone beneath me. I pressed my mouth to her neck as I followed her, cresting an unbelievable high before floating back down to lie, content and replete, in her arms.
The sun rose slowly, as always, and neither of us moved until I felt the early morning rays fall across my back. I rolled over, pulling Bella with me to rest on my chest. She smiled at me, closing her eyes and sighing in contentment. I watched the sun bounce off her skin in scattered rainbows, watched it bounce off my fingers as I traced the beautiful, smooth curves of her body.
“I love you,” I murmured quietly.
“Mmmm…” she hummed, lifting her shoulder to her cheek, hiding that gorgeous smile for a moment. Then she opened her eyes and stared at me as I continued my exploration, her skin shimmering in the sunlight reflecting off the white carpet where it wasn’t hitting her directly. My fingertips glided down the curve of her waist and then back up to her hip. She inhaled sharply and closed her eyes again as she squirmed under my hand and I paused—partly because I wasn’t sure if she wanted me to stop, and mostly because her hips ground against mine when she moved, suddenly making me more-than-eager for a repeat of our previous activities. I only paused for a moment as I angled my head to see her face clearly…then I did it again when she re-opened her eyes. Her reaction was the same; moving her hips away and then back again, a smile on her face.
“It tickles,” she muttered, in response to my inquisitive expression, “but in a good way.” She frowned as she considered the concept.
I felt my smile widen and I eased her off me, gently guiding her to roll over onto her back. I let my fingertips glide over her waist again, smiling when she rocked her hips from side to side, trying to escape but unwilling to put in a real effort. I bent over her, this time gliding my nose down her curve, inhaling as I went. Her scent, so delightfully delicious, flooded my senses again as she arched her back, a small moan sounding in her throat.
My lips were next, following a path down her body that was quickly becoming one of my favourites. Her moan became my name this time, her hand sliding into my hair as her back arched again…and as her phone started to ring.
She snarled angrily at it and I felt a tug of smug satisfaction that she didn’t want to be interrupted.
“Ignore it, love,” I muttered, leaving a trail of kisses down the inside of her hipbone.
She might have…if the answering machine hadn’t clicked on and a male voice hadn’t started to speak.
“Isabella, it’s Luke from the office…”
Her body tensed and I lifted my head, as we both came crashing back into reality. I sat up and watched her as she crawled out of the bed and went to sit on the sofa next to the little table where her phone sat. Fury lanced through me and my fingers twitched, the desire to get them on Victoria and tear her apart was so great. I watched Bella as she coiled herself up like a cat, staring at the machine as the voice continued to speak.
Hope you liked it!
FYI (because I'm totally stoked)--This story has been nominated for another award over at TwilightFanFictionAwards for Favourte Overall Story. I think nominations are still open, if you want to nominate other stories (I know I've got a few I'm going to nominate) and, of course, when voting opens, I'd love for you to vote for this fic ^.^
Much love guys!
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