More Than Words Chapter 1
Disclaimer - I do not own Twilight or any of it's characters. No money is being made from the writing of this story. All rights belong to Stephanie Meyer.
Warning - This story contains Mature content. If you are under 18 or otherwise not a legal adult in your own country, state or city, please read no further.
This chapter has been beta'd by Sparagus, and has been revised.
"More Than Words"
Icy hands slowly and methodically rubbed sensual circles on my back. The goose bumps those hands caused made the rest of my flesh feel strangely molten. Feather-light kisses rained down on my neck and décolleté, like butterfly wings. A liquid brewed, growing, and bursting forth from the pit of my stomach, and I needed more. I needed him closer. I needed so very much more of him. A low, airy moan strangled out from between my lips, swollen with kisses.
Lying on my side, my left arm under his neck, my right playing havoc on his freshly ironed shirt, I drowned in a sea of sensations…his smell, his touch, the taste of his lips and the low, purring thunder in his chest. My hand traveled lower, attempting with less than agile fingers to undo the buckle on his belt.
All too soon I felt the bed shift and a different kind of coolness signified my singularity in the bed.
“Bella…” Edward sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, predictably.
In what seemed to be less than an instant he had abruptly risen from the bed and was now backed up against the glass wall of his bedroom. The light breeze from the one open window ruffled his already beautifully rumpled hair. His head was tilted down, his eyes soft and placating.
“How many times do I need to explain it to you, love?”
He sighed, and a soft, wistful smile graced his face.
I first curled into myself, wrapped his soft, blue comforter around my body, aching from pent up frustration and his too-light touches. Agitated, I groaned my displeasure and I then swung my legs over the side of the bed frame in an effort to head to the adjoining bath, needing to freshen up. In the three-second span it took me to do so, he was already kneeling in front of me, his cold fingers tracing the contour of my jaw with absolute precision.
“We can’t, Bella. It’s just not safe for us to be…intimate. At least, not yet.”
His warm, caramel colored eyes glowed with love, and they wordlessly pleaded with me to understand.
“Not yet. As in, not until you change me,” I responded.
It wasn’t a question. I raised my brows, silently demanding that he answer.
He sighed, and for a moment, a look of pure pain crossed his features, but it was quickly replaced with his normal, sturdy mask.
“Edward, you promised. You said you would change me yourself as long as I married you first…”
“I know. And I will”
“You said we would try…”
He sighed again unnecessarily.
“I know. We will try. But not yet.”
“Then when? We’re already engaged. It wouldn’t be unheard of, you know. It’s not 1918 anymore, Edward.”
I defiantly crossed my arms.
He genuinely looked mortified.
“No. No one expects you to not touch me before the wedding. If you’re worried about it being socially unacceptable…”
“Bella, please? Do this for me?”
He ran his hands through the bronze mess of his hair.
“The wedding is only two weeks away. And the key word is ‘try.’ I don’t know if I will be able to be with you and not kill you in the process.”
He grasped both my hands in one of his, a light but iron hold to signify he was serious.
“Bella, I could crush you without even realizing it until it was too late. Please do not ask me to exist with that on my conscience.”
He stood and brought me to my feet as well. He cocked his head at me, obviously ready to continue his justifications.
“Fine,” I huffed out quickly.
I hastily broke his hold on my wrists, and he let me. There was obviously no point in arguing this aspect. Again.
I stormed off to the bath. I desperately needed to splash some fresh water on my face.
“Bella, love, I’m so sorry.”
I quickly shut the door behind me, effectively ending the conversation.
“Save it.” It was a whisper, but I knew he heard me as if I had screamed it.
I turned on the sink, and I stared at my slightly disheveled image in the mirror, the light, purple bruising of my lips a living testament to what Edward so greatly feared. He could hurt me, but I knew he wouldn’t. Ever.
The water had been running on high for at least a minute, the sound of flowing water a lifetime grounding technique for me. I took a deep drought of air in, and held it for a ten count, just like Renee, err…Mom, had showed me.
Two weeks. Two weeks and then all bets are OFF.
I exhaled slowly through pursed lips.
Never had I been more appreciative of Edward’s inability to read my thoughts, for at that moment they were all over the place. I huffed in another lungful of air and then brought two full handfuls of the icy water up to my face, splashing it over my aching eyes and letting it drip down to my chest. The flush of my skin was slowly fading.
Some fight fire with fire but I needed to fight ice with ice.
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