Driving home is tough.
Driving around in my own car is one of the things I've been looking forward to the most. Now all I'm looking forward to is getting home and out of this car as soon as possible. If I only could look at Bella there in the passenger seat... I want to touch her, but I can't. I need to keep my eyes on the road and my hands on the wheel.
We don't talk during the ride, and I'm glad. Not sure I could manage driving and talking. It's hard enough as it is right now... driving and thinking, driving and feeling. Even driving and breathing at the same time is a feat.
My body ought to know how to breathe by itself, without me paying attention, but it doesn't. If I don't remind my lungs to work, if I don't intentionally order my heart to keep beating, I might just pass out at the wheel. Right now I'm operating my body like I'm operating the car. Clutch, brake, breathe, shift gear, gas pedal, breathe, indicate, rearview mirror, breathe, pull over, clutch, brake...
Hands off the wheel. Out of gear. Out of breath.
"Edward? Why are we stopping here?"
Because when you told me that you love me I somehow disconnected from my own body and the physical universe in general. Because the only way to keep myself from falling to pieces is to touch you. Because I need a break, or else I will crash this car. Because...
"... this is not safe," I say and shut down the engine.
We're home at last.
Bella drove us. She didn't even ask me what was wrong after I had stopped on the side of the road; she just saw I was out of it and made us swap places. We kept holding hands during the entire rest of the ride, and I felt grounded again.
I whispered 'I love you' to her over and over, compulsively... I couldn't stop. She didn't say it back, but she smiled every time. And she squeezed my hand, twice. But she didn't say it. It was ok though – I mean, she was the one driving then. And driving and talking is tough. She didn't talk at all until we arrived home.
When we walk up the three steps to the front door, we both get out our keys. We freeze for a second, looking at each other. Bella bursts into giggles and I join her easily. It's easy to laugh with her, now that we are here. Easy to breathe, too. No need to think about it any more, no need to think about how to breathe or what to feel.
Easy. Easy with Bella. Easybella...
"Ok, you unlock it," she says, still grinning.
So I do. While I hold the door open for her, I realize that I have no idea whether we're going to her place or mine. She hasn't even seen my place yet, and I'm not sure that I want her to. Not before my piano is tuned properly anyway. I want to play for her which is out of question with the flat C... no way.
I'm relieved to see her heading straight for her own apartment.
With the key already inside the lock, she hesitates for a moment.
"You still hungry? It will take me a few minutes to throw something edible together, so... I don't know, do you want to go upstairs in the meantime, freshen up or something?"
I don't want to go anywhere. I want to be right here, with her. "No."
"No as in, you're not hungry any more? Or... no, you don't want to go to your own apartment?"
I realize that once again I'm not speaking enough, no idea why. Here I am with the single person I really want to talk to, and I just don't. Bella shouldn't have to ask questions like that. She deserves better. And I can do better.
"I don't want to go anywhere you are not, and I don't want to invite you upstairs unless I can play some of the songs I wrote for you when I was eleven. Actually, I would like to write a new song for you before I take you to my place for the first time. But I need to fix my piano first anyway, so no – I don't want to go to my own apartment."
Her jaw drops, which makes me a little anxious, so I hurry to continue speaking.
"And you don't need to make anything to eat, not for me anyway. I think I'm not hungry any more. Of course, if you want to eat something...? I could help you in the kitchen if you'd like? Or I could make something for you. Are you hungry, Bella?"
She blinks a few times before she shakes her head no. I wonder if she's really ok. I'm getting even more nervous because she doesn't say a word. Of course, I haven't addressed all of her questions yet...
"If you were indicating that I need to wash up... I will, if you want me to. Do I smell? I don't want to smell bad or something when we touch. And I want to touch you... a lot. But maybe I could use your bathroom instead of mine?"
That was all, I guess. Except for...
"I love you, Bella. I was thinking that you... actually... I was hoping you'd let me spend the night again."
"Oh God," she sighs and closes her eyes. But she is smiling. That's good.
And she finally turns the key. That's good, too, because when she opens the door and I follow her inside, I'm calming down immediately. The idea that she might have wanted to sleep alone didn't even occur to me until just a minute ago, and it shook me to the core. But as soon as the door snaps shut behind me, I feel safe. Home.
And things get even better when she starts speaking again. When she turns to me and takes my hand. When her body comes so close to mine that my spine starts tingling. When she lifts her face and licks her lips before she says just the right thing. So much better...
"I want you to stay the night, too."
"And you don't smell bad, Edward, not at all. I really don't know why I said anything like that. Maybe it's because I could use a shower myself. I really do; it's been a hell of a long day for me."
"I don't mind waiting." I regret saying this as soon as the words leave my mouth, because it's not true. I know I will count the seconds while she's alone in her bathroom. I also know this isn't an ok behavior, and I suppose it will be getting better, but just not today. "You don't smell bad either though."
She gives a quiet laugh. "Yes, I do."
I'm getting desperate. "Maybe you could leave the bathroom door ajar?"
"Maybe you could join me in the shower?"
My mind goes blank for a moment before it is assaulted by countless images of naked Bella in quick succession... her skin, wet, my hands on her, her hands on me... I feel my body temperature rising. I'm getting a little weak in the knees all of a sudden and my mouth is almost too dry to speak, what with my breathing speeding up. But I manage to whisper an answer.
I've seen her naked and wet before. But this time it is so much better.
This time, I'm not feeling any concern about her well-being or about a possible pregnancy. I know she's fine. I can tell by the way she moves and smiles; even by the way she looks at me over her shoulder as she turns on the water.
And this time, I did not attack her on the kitchen floor like a mindless animal, but gave her pleasure just an hour ago without even being inside her. Even though I wanted to have my penis inside her, this is so much better. Because this time I'm not wondering if she'll ever love me back. This time she already said the words.
This is so much better. Who knew that words could ever become so essential? I want her to say it again; I want to say it to her again, even though I said it a lot already. But right now all I can do is watch.
I'm standing here in the bathroom door, as naked as Bella. No clothes are covering my arousal; no well-practiced mannerisms are hiding my want. I am bare in front of her, inside and out. My eyes are glued to her, my penis is pointing up and towards her, almost absurdly, twitching like a broken compass needle. And I'm watching.
The way her hair turns almost black as it gets soaked. The way her breasts move a little higher as she lifts her arms to stroke the wet locks back. I'm watching. I'm taking mental photos, several pictures per second. They're piling up in my mind, more and more of them... material for the most beautiful flip-book ever.
Drops of water trembling in her spiky lashes, under her nose and on her smiling lips where she's licking them away again and again... lick... smile... lick... I'm watching.
The rivulets glistening on her breasts, zig-zagging downwards like living beings on the run, breaking up and converging on their way down, leaving liquid pearls that get stuck on her nipples for the briefest moment before they drip down, quickly followed by another one... and another one... identical beads... get stuck... drip down... get stuck... drip down... I'm watching, I'm watching.
"Edward, love... won't you come in?"
I'm in the tub with my body pressing against hers and my hands cupping her face, and I don't even recall walking over. I don't know when... how... did I get in here? Doesn't matter. All that matters is my mouth on hers. All that matters is that it's my tongue now licking the water off her lips, and the friction down there, the glorious feeling of my erection against her belly.
I'm enveloped in a veil of warm spray mist that is saturated with the most dazzling and enticing scent I know. My eyes want to roll back into my head as it hits me, the scent of my Bella, her womanly essence. And here I was thinking that it could be washed away, that simple water could take away its power. I flare my nostrils and let it fill me as I plunge my tongue into Bella's mouth.
She moans and squirms, and it's driving me crazy. I press harder into her, pushing her against the tiles, but it is not enough... not close enough. Her skin is hot and silky under the spray, and slippery where I'm rubbing my painfully hard erection against her. I bend in my knees and thrust my hips upwards, grinding against her. I'm going to come if I keep this up just a little longer, and I want to come. I want to come so badly. Is this me, making those noises? Those... grunts? The groan vibrating on my tongue, me or her? I can't tell...
Sure it is ok for me to come here in the shower, even without a condom... the water will wash it away, right? I'm losing it; I couldn't stop moving my hips for the life of me. The sweet torture building in my groin is making me... I'm gone, reduced to a tiny, meaningless spot somewhere in my mind, still watching. Only now I'm watching myself. And Bella. Bella and myself. I'm helplessly watching.
She breaks the kiss and I open my eyes. With her head thrown back against the tile wall, she is looking at me under half-closed lids. Her jaw has gone slack; she is breathing heavily through her open mouth. It's the face of an angel. Her hand is sneaking between our bodies, working its way down to where I'm burning, and... oh God, I know where this is going... I back off just the tiniest bit to give her room, so she can... oh...
Her fingers are on my penis, lightly stroking the underside, teasing, teasing... I hold my breath. Her eyes pierce into mine as she lets her fingertips glide up from the root to the tip. Just once. Slowly. I gasp. I want to look down, I want to see what she is doing to me, I want to watch. But her eyes are holding me hostage.
She wraps her hand around my length and she... her... I don't know, with her thumb? She gently pulls down the foreskin and rubs(withherthumb?)the exposed tip. I suck in a sharp breath. I don't know why, but I groan a loud "Fuck!" And again, "Fuck, fuck...!"
I don't know why I'm saying this; it's definitely not the right thing to say when you're bursting with love and pleasure, but I can't help it. And Bella? She smiles at me! I brace myself against the tiles behind her, quickly turning into a throbbing, shaking mess with each of her strokes, and absolutely unable to stop that insulting chant.
"Fuck, Bella, fuck... fuuuuck... "
And she smiles at me!
I'm thrusting into her hand now, relentlessly, almost violently... and she smiles. I am hers, head to toe. Right now, she holds the power to destroy me or to make me whole. She holds all the power, and I wouldn't want it any other way. My Bella, my love... I'm too close... no control... I'm hers.
And then she says the words and closes her eyes, finally setting mine free.
She says the words, and I cry out as the giant wave of pleasure pulls me under.
I watch my semen hitting her stomach in thick spurts and running down, mingling with the pouring water, just as she says the words.
Then the world around me disappears, and all that is left are those words. The words she said still linger when I come back to my senses...
"I love you, Edward."
"You were talking a lot today," Bella mumbles into the comforter that's covering us up to our chins. She's wrapped up in my arms, with her back molding into me. Skin to skin. She said we're spooning. I like spooning.
"Yeah... I thought, you appreciate it when I talk."
"I do. I'm just still getting used to a talking Little Green. I want to hear everything you are willing to tell me about yourself."
She shivers a little and I hold her tighter. "You're still cold?"
"No," she says, "you are so warm; it's wonderful."
I hadn't noticed how much the water had cooled down until she reached for the faucet and ushered me out of the tub. I could have sat there forever, holding her and replaying the last minutes in my mind over and over. But her teeth were chattering. So we dried off quickly and settled in her bed.
"Talking to you is easy. With you, a lot of things are much easier for me. It's always been that way. With you, I really want to talk. Only with you."
Her hands squeeze my arm that's lying around her shoulders. "I know."
She is so small in my embrace, so delicate. Like I'm holding a fragile treasure close to me. I want to keep her safe from any harm. It's a new concept, as regards the two of us. Looking back, the Easybella of my childhood days was the strong one of us. She always knew what to do, and she was the one protecting me.
Of course, I've outgrown her physically, but that's not it. When I was little, it never occurred to me that she might be scared of anything. Well, except for the dog. The way she handled the dog incident was disturbing. But apart from that... no. She had been my rock, my shelter. Always.
But now it is like she's got some sort of predetermined breaking point, waiting for the pressure of whatever is troubling her to become too much. A weak spot in her soul that just hasn't been hit yet by pure chance. She is still strong, beautiful and strong, but also always on guard.
I haven't figured it out yet. But I feel protective of her. And it's a weird feeling. I don't know where to put it, or what to do with it. But it just won't go away.
I want to make her feel safe. I want to make her feel good. Always.
I bury my nose in her hair and inhale deeply. It's still damp, and it smells so good. Everything of Bella smells good.
"Bella, did you like what I did in my room? When I made love to you with my mouth only?"
"Really? Do you want me to do it again... some time, I mean?"
She takes a deep breath. "Hmm... 's not disgusting? The taste?"
What? Is she serious? My head jerks up. "No! Hell, no – the taste is..."
"Mmh... yeah?" she mumbles drowsily and turns her head to look at me. Her eyes are almost closed, she's already half asleep.
"You are tired, Bella. You need to rest." There it is again, this strong sense of protectiveness. The urge to care for her in every possible way courses through me like a hot rush.
"No," she protests weakly, "what's wi' the taste?" I can hear the smile in her sleepy voice.
"It's... well..." I need a word. I squeeze my eyes shut. "It's..."
"C'mon, lil' Green, I wanna know."
"Oohhh..." she sighs, and then her whole body starts shaking with laughter.
Oh God, I love it when she's laughing! Even if it's just quiet, muffled giggles into the thick feather pillow. I nuzzle her neck, grinning so wide that my cheeks hurt.
"It's delicious... intoxicating... sweet... addictive... best taste in the world..." Well, that wasn't too bad!
"Then I wantcha to do it again," she says with a last snort.
I hug her tighter. It must be true happiness, this elating mix of excitement and calmness that makes my heart beat faster and my stomach tingle. I can't stop smiling.
"I think I am really happy, Bella. You're making me happy."
"...hmme too... happpp..." she mumbles.
I can't even imagine sleeping alone any more, without her warm body curled into me. I never knew it could be like this. I feel like I'm bursting with happiness; I'm wide-awake.
"I love you, Bella," I whisper with all the devotion I have in me; I just need to get it out.
I place a kiss on the back of her head. "Sleep well, my love."
I spent the rest of the night watching her sleep, watching over her and listening to the new song that's rising in my heart and mind all by itself. I just need to write it down.
Tomorrow, I'll buy a wrest and fix my piano.
For those who are not familiar with musical instruments and wondering what the heck Little Green's going to buy:
A wrest is a tool you need to tune a piano (or a harp or other stringed musical instruments). It's a small wrench you use for turning the pins to which the strings are fastened, to make them sound higher or lower.