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Ellipsis

Summary:
Ellipsis: A punctuation mark used to indicate that something has been left out. This is my suggestion for what was left out in Breaking Dawn.


Notes:
Set during the ellipsis in Breaking Dawn.


3. Practice

Rating 4.5/5   Word Count 2336   Review this Chapter

He scooped me up and carried me to the blue room. He laid me gently on the bed and broke our kiss. I started to protest, but he hushed me. There was a dangerous glint in his eyes.

“Now, Mrs. Cullen,” he began playfully, “you have been very diligent in fulfilling your wifely duties and I believe that I owe some reciprocation.”

A delicious shiver shot down my spine as the color came to my cheeks. He began to slowly undress me, working one layer at a time and thoroughly caressing and kissing each newly revealed section of my skin.

When he uncovered my breasts, he cupped them lightly before brushing his thumbs across my nipples. I arched my back and he murmured his appreciation. He dipped his head to my chest and my breathing hitched. I stopped breathing completely when his lips touched my left nipple. He kissed it lightly before I felt him smile against my skin.

“Breathe,” he murmured, nuzzling his cheek against my breast. He switched to the right side and waited for me to resume breath before slowly licking my nipple.

I moaned.

“Is that good?” he teased, tracing my areola with his tongue.

“…good at… everything…” I managed to whimper as he trailed his fingers down to the waistband of my panties. He shamelessly nuzzled and suckled my breasts.

His fingers traced circles just under the elastic of my panties, and he began to slowly kiss his way down my stomach. He paused briefly to dip his tongue into my belly button. I lifted my hips as he hooked his thumbs into the cloth and tugged downward. He inched my panties slowly along, following the material with kisses down my left leg. He paused again at my ankles, removed the scrap of cloth, then began kissing his way up the inside of my right leg.

I grabbed handfuls of the bedding and whimpered. As he ascended, he moved my right leg away from my left and snaked his way between them. I panted and made small helpless noises. He finished his trail of kisses at the crease of my thigh, his cheek brushing my damp curls. He turned his face to my center and took a long, slow breath, holding it a moment before sighing with a low groan.

“Bella…”

I lifted my head to see him gazing up at me with lust-filled eyes.

“I want to taste you,” he said in his velvet voice. I felt dizzy.

I whimpered in response and lifted my hips slightly. I closed my eyes and laid my head back on the pillow. His hands gently pushed my thighs further apart. I bent my knees and opened myself to his attentions.

His thumbs found my lower lips and gently brushed the wet, swollen flesh. He traced every crease with his fingers, spreading my folds to get a better view. He paused for just a moment after brushing my clitoris with his thumb. I arched, then, and gasped, and he waited for me to settle. He placed both hands on my thighs and lightly touched my clitoris with his tongue. I whimpered incoherently and bucked my hips, but he moved easily along with me, keeping exactly the same pressure no matter how I writhed. When I’d given up my thrusting, he licked me, pressing his entire tongue to my center and rolling it slowly up across my clitoris.

I moaned and shuddered, and Edward became a statue. After a few seconds, I lifted my head to peek. His eyes were closed and he was moving his tongue around in his mouth like he was tasting wine. I felt the blush rising to my ears as I watched him.

He opened his eyes and met my gaze with what was quickly becoming my favorite look. Very deliberately, without breaking eye contact, he dipped back down and tasted me again.

“Is that… difficult?” I squeaked out, my ears ringing.

Before responding, he licked me again and swallowed slowly before propping his head on his hand and grinning at me.

“Mind over matter,” he teased.

“Is it, um, good?”

“Very,” he asserted.

“Okay,” I breathed, sure that my face had moved past red and into purple. I let my head fall back against the pillow.

“Bella?”

I lifted my head again. His eyes were serious and searing.

“Show me how you please yourself.”

My eyes became saucers and my cheeks became hotter yet. I would spontaneously combust.

“I—” I began to protest.

“You do it in the shower,” he said matter-of-factly, “or in your room sometimes when I’m hunting. And when you were grounded.”

I stared at him, mortified, unable to contradict the truth.

“Bella, love, it’s alright. It’s quite normal.”

“How did you—?”

“I have an excellent sense of smell, Bella, and you have a very distinctive aroma.”

I blinked at him, sure that my eyebrows must have burst into flames by now. The heat of my blush was painful. I tried to regroup and let my curiosity choose my words.

“Do you ever…?”

He laughed.

“Oh, Bella, again I remind you that I am a man!”

“That’s not a yes!” I snapped, frustrated that he was laughing.

“Yes,” he said frankly, “and much more often since I found you. I’m not ashamed of that. You woke feelings in me that I had not felt for a long time.”

He reached up to take my hand and squeezed my fingers.

“I love you and I want to please you,” he pulled my hand down as he spoke, “please, show me how.”

He pressed my fingers to my center and left my hand there. His eyes beseeched me.

“Please,” he repeated, and logic left me. Why would I deny this angel anything?

I set my head back on the pillow and closed my eyes. I adjusted my fingers to their familiar place within my folds, and with a small sigh, I began to move my fingertips in small circles.

I moved my feet together without thinking and was dimly surprised to find no vampire in my path. I squashed that thought and pretended I was alone in my bedroom. My other hand crept to my breast and I idly played with my nipples as I slowly felt my orgasm building. I sped up my lower hand and moved the upper one from my chest to gather a handful of bedding. My breathing became erratic and I clenched the muscles in my thighs and buttocks as I was about to—

And both my hands were pinned above my head. My eyes popped open and the creature above me would have felt my wrath if he hadn’t immediately begun kissing me. I arched my body to rub against his chilled one. He must have stripped while I was masturbating.

“Thank you for showing me, “he murmured against my lips, “but I would like to finish that task myself, if you don’t mind.”

I moaned loudly and tried to raise my hips to meet his, but he dodged me expertly.

“Would you mind, Bella?”

“Yes, I breathed, frustrated, still trying to press against him.

“Oh,” he said with mock disappointment, “I sorry to hear that, I was hoping—”

“Touch me, Edward!” I said with as much force as my breathless voice would allow, “please, I need you.”

He seemed happy to oblige, freeing my hands and moving one of his slowly down my body. He set his fingers precisely where mine had been, which seemed improbably given the angle, but before I could give it any thought, he began to move.

I arched my hips, and his hand rose smoothly, giving me no additional pressure. This would have frustrated me, but I encountered something on my ascent that frenzied me instead. The very tip of his icy penis had brushed my inner thigh. He groaned with me at the contact, though his fingers continued their ministrations.

As fast as I could (though I knew he could still have stopped me), I reached down and grabbed his shaft. I pressed it against my opening. He growled again but seemed willing to oblige me. His fingers still flying, he entered me and began to thrust in rhythm with the tiny circles he drew on my clitoris. My breathing grew erratic again as I felt my orgasm building.

“Open your eyes,” he ordered, “I want to see you.”

I did as he said and found his eyes locked on mine. The intensity of his unblinking stare forbid me from looking away.

“Come for me, Bella,” he commanded in his velvet voice, and again, I did as I was told, crying out and spasming wildly.

Spots danced around his face before he closed his eyes, freeing me to close mine. I listened to him experiencing my orgasm. He grunted once when my first spasm hit him, then he slowed his fingers and thrusts as my shuddering diminished. Finally, we were both still.

Shyly, I opened my eyes. He was watching me again, love and lust clear in his expression.

“Thank you,” he said reverently, and my cheeks warmed again. He chuckled softly at my embarrassment before continuing.

“I mean it,” he said softly, “that was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

He waited for me to reply, but I stayed quiet.

“Was it enjoyable?” he questioned after a moment, and I knew he was wondering what I was thinking.

“Mmm,” I responded, nodding.

“I’m glad,” he said with what sounded like relief. Had he really been unsure?

“You’re still, uh, not done,” I said with another blush. I could still feel him, large and hard inside me. I seemed extra aware of him after my climax.

“We can stop, if you want,” he said, seeming unsure of what I might want.

“No, no,” I said too quickly, and his eyes danced at my outburst, “I don’t’ want to stop. I want you to… come, too. What can I do?”

He searched my eyes for a moment, clearly weighing some option.

“Tell me, please?” I begged.

His lips curled into my favorite smile.

“Perhaps I’ll show you?” he teased, and I nodded eagerly.

Just like our first time, I suddenly found myself on top of my husband. Again, I drew my knees up to take my weight; my legs were still weak from my orgasm. His hands were feather light on my hips.

Experimentally, I rolled my hips. He bucked against me and moaned.

“Why do you want this?” I asked, rolling my hips again to punctuate my question as I tried to be coy.

“Mmm,” he responded, “because I think it is easier. I can focus more attention on our—ah—lovemaking rather than on not crushing you.”

“That makes sense,” I mused, enjoying how my movements interrupted his speech.

“Is it very hard, when you’re on top?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said between clenched teeth, “very hard.”

I noticed that one of my hands had absently returned to my center. I sighed and began to stroke my clitoris. Edward’s eyes popped open at my movement and he stared at my circling fingers for several seconds before moving his eyes up to my face. They were completely wild again. He moved his hands from me and gripped the headboard.

He was very still, except for his ragged breathing, his constant swallowing, and his vivid eyes. I raised and lowered myself on him and touched myself, using his body to give me pleasure. He watched, enrapt. I let my head fall back and gripped his thigh with my other hand. I arched my back with each thrust and he began to vocalize his appreciation.

“Oh, Bella, you’re so beautiful,” he began, and he kept up a steady stream of encouragement and praise. It made me light-headed. It didn’t’ take long before I felt the pull toward orgasm. I bounced faster on him and heard my breath come in pants. His breathing grew more ragged, too, and I could feel the rigidity in his form as he tried to keep still.

As I crested, I called out again, and my knees gave out. I tried to keep rolling my hips, but with a whimper, I collapsed. Edward caught me and took over the rhythm. I rode out the last waves of my orgasm as he ascended to his. He spasmed violently as the ice-cold liquid shot inside me. He roared, literally roared as he came with nothing to bite into. His hands pulverized the parts of the headboard that he gripped. His body shook, jostling me above him. Gradually, his breathing slowed and his body stilled. He released the broken headboard and gently wrapped his arms around me.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into my hair as he lightly stroked my back.

“Why?” I gasped, incredulous.

He lifted me slightly so he could see my face.

“I didn’t frighten you?” he wondered, searching my eyes.

“No,” I said honestly, “that was—intense, I’ll admit, but it was real. You and me. That’s all I want. Just… us.”

His eyes softened and he pulled me tightly against him.

“Oh, my Bella,” he crooned, and his voice sounded overfull of emotion. I wondered briefly if he would have cried if able.

He rolled me gently into the crook of his arm and stroked my face. I leaned up to kiss him tenderly.

“I love you,” I whispered against his lips.

“As I love you,” he replied, stroking my hair.