Belong Together

"Don't be afraid," I murmured. "We belong together."

I was abruptly overwhelmed by the truth of my own words. This moment was so perfect, so right, there was no way to doubt it.

His arms wrapped around me, holding me against him, summer and winter. It felt like every nerve ending in my body was a live wire.

"Forever," he agreed, and then pulled us gently into deeper water.

- Breaking Dawn, chapter 5.

We just stood there, staring at each other wordlessly. The water was warm, whooshing softly around us. I couldn't see much of him in this depth, but that was fine, because the sight of his face, almost silver in the moonlight, was overwhelming in itself. I raised my hand to gently caress his face. He closed his eyes as I let my fingers brush against his cool skin, my thumb lingering on his cheek. I felt bolder now. The water was hiding enough of me so I was less embarrassed. We were completely alone, the moon our only witness. My hand moved as if on its own accord, drifting from his cheek down his throat to his neck and downwards still, making a stop on his chest and then his stomach. I kept my eyes locked on his. His gaze was so intense.

He didn't touch me. He broke away from our embrace the moment we were up to our shoulders with water. His gaze was enough to make my body tingle; warmth spread over me as if I was still in his arms. I closed the small distance between us, my hands encircling his biceps beneath the surface of the water. Slowly, I slid them upwards so I could wrap my arms around his neck. A shudder went through me as our skin made contact. He didn't move, but I knew by his erratic breathing that his thoughts were getting as incoherent as mine.

Ever so slowly, I felt his hands trace a line down my sides, resting on my waist just above my hips, holding me tighter against him, saying nothing. Standing on tiptoes I brushed my lips with his once, twice, hoping to break his trance-like silence. The friction of my body stretching against his made him groan. "Bella," he nearly purred my name, making me shiver again, before he leaned down to return my kiss. I traced my tongue along his lower lip, teasing, seeking for access. This was where he had always put the limits in the countless times in the past, explaining how he was doing this for my own good. For one dreadful moment, I thought he was about to reject me the same way tonight as well.

I was wrong.

Our joined lips muffled his moan, and his tongue – cool and determined – was suddenly battling mine as he deepened the kiss. I reveled at the sensation, new yet somehow familiar, but I didn't have a chance to ponder over it for long because suddenly, his hands were everywhere, caressing, exploring every bit of exposed skin. My own fingers were roaming all over his body as well. Our kisses became more frenzied, and I was getting breathless. I forced our lips apart, gasping for air, but his lips soon found my pulse point. I threw my head back as his lips made contact with my skin. My eyes closed shut as I pressed him tighter against me. I felt his arms tighten around me again, stabilizing me.

I needed him desperately. At that moment I knew that all the times I thought I had needed him before were minor incidents comparing to this one. He told me once that I was his drug, his heroin, and I thought it was funny how he had become mine. He was my everything. And suddenly, I was desperate to make sure that he knew that.

I opened my eyes and reached for his face again, bringing it up so that his eyes would meet mine. His breath was ragged again, his eyes dark – not with thirst, but with desire. "Don't be afraid," I whispered again.

But I could still see it in his eyes, sense it in the guarded way in which he now held me. Hesitation was written across his achingly beautiful face. He was about to speak then, but I put a finger to his lips, silencing him so I wouldn't have to hear his tortured guilt again.

"Don't," I pleaded. "You can't back up now." I knew that he wouldn't. I kept my part of the deal. I married him against my better judgment, and he knew the stretch this was for me. But it wasn't just that. He wouldn't back up… because I read beyond the hesitation in his eyes. I knew he wanted this, needed this, as desperately as I did.

"Bella, whatever happens – "

"Shh…" I murmured, pressing my finger against his lips again. His gaze was intense on mine. "I trust you with my life."

I was aware of how cliché it sounded, but it seemed to be the right thing to say, because with no further warning, his lips crushed against mine.

When we made our way out of the water, it was me on the lead.

He meant to carry me back to the house, but it made kissing him nearly impossible, so he had to let me go at some point of the way. We stopped every now and again to kiss each other senseless; one of us always had to break it off and stir the other in the right direction. I wasn't even sure how we made it inside, but somehow we were there, back in the huge white room, still exchanging rough, hasty kisses. Only now I could taste the saltiness of the sea water against his lips. I hadn't noticed it before. I ran my fingers through his wet hair. I could feel my own hair sticking to my back, the tips of it brushing against his arms that were still wrapped around me. I didn't want to think about the mess we'd made, bringing in all the sand and sea water. Nothing mattered except for me and him, and the silent dialogue our eyes were engaged with.

Although the main lights were off, I was all too aware of my nakedness, of his eyes on me. I didn't have the water to hide in. Blood rushed to my face; I looked away instinctively. I couldn't bring myself to look at him; I was so embarrassed.

With a finger to my chin, he raised my head up, forcing my eyes to meet his. "You're beautiful," he whispered reassuringly, as if for once, he could read my mind.

He took my hand and brought it to his lips, kissing my fingers, keeping his eyes on mine as he did. My new ring glimmered in the faint light. We both looked at it. I knew his awed expression reflected my own. Yes, I resented the idea of marriage at eighteen, a part of me still did, but there was also that other part of me – the one that was staring into my husband's eyes – that didn't care. If anything, marrying him ensured me his love, forever.

I couldn't remember how we ended up on the huge bed – if I was the one stirring us there or was it him – but there we were, a tangle of arms and legs entwined in one another, still staring breathlessly into each other's eyes. My heart was hammering against his still chest. A flicker of emotion crossed his face; I knew he was trying to resist the temptation my heartbeat, my rushing blood, still held for him. But then he blinked, and it was gone. I wrapped my arms around his neck again, making sure he wasn't going anywhere.

"I love you," I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. "Forever."

He held my gaze as he thrust into me.

My breath stopped; my eyes snapped shut. Everything went very still.

"Bella?" His voice was velvet against my ear. There was a panicky edge to it. "Are you al-"

I opened my eyes. He looked anxious. "Fine," I assured him, too distracted to smile. "Just give me a moment."

He flashed me his crooked grin and kissed my cheek quickly. Then he readjusted his position, making us both groan at the contact. I wrapped one leg around his hip, taking him even deeper. He buried his head between my shoulder and the pillow, stifling a moan. It vibrated along my skin. He went rigid, as if he needed a moment to get himself together. I said nothing, just tightened my grip on his neck. Then, holding his weight on his elbows, he started moving slowly inside me, bringing his lips down on mine again.

But he was hesitant still. Not even that. He was terrified. I grabbed his hand and laced my fingers with his. "You won't hurt me," I breathed. "I know you won't."

It was strange to remember he was as inexperienced at this as I was. And yet in spite of that, somehow we knew what we were doing. It was as if our bodies were synched, finally equal, completing each other as perfectly as I knew they would. I kissed him harder as this realization hit me. We did belong together.

He flipped us over, so suddenly I nearly gasped. I looked down at him, entrapped beneath me, his hair bronze against the pillows, his eyes still intent on mine. Without breaking our movement, I leaned down, letting my tongue trace a path across his marble chest. I could feel my hair cascading down my face, brushing against his skin. He murmured my name brokenly; his hands suddenly groped me around the waist, bringing me impossibly closer.

I knew he was close now. There was a new urgency in the way he held me, the way he breathed, the way he said my name. He flipped us over again – I wasn't as surprised this time – and I could feel the urgency in the way he was moving inside of me. It was building within me too now, like a tidal wave, slow and gradual, the ultimate release. I clutched his shoulder blades, urging him to go faster, meeting each of his thrusts, my lips only leaving his to catch my breath. And his hands were everywhere again, fluttering, caressing, but that wasn't enough. I didn't want him to be gentle with me, I didn't want him to be on his guard now. I wanted him to let go.

I looked up at him. His eyes were crazed, coal black like I had never seen them before, not even on that first day in biology. For the first time since I had known him, he looked dangerous to me, truly dangerous, but I wasn't afraid. I trusted him completely. He would never hurt me. I caught his eyes and smiled at him, an honest, trusting smile.

That sent both of us over the edge.

He collapsed over me, heaving, groaning my name. His lips were on mine before I managed to utter his own name. Everything went unnaturally still for one long moment afterwards. I wasn't even aware of my own heartbeat. I vaguely remembered whispered 'I loved you's, hasty kisses and ragged breaths. He held me so tight that for the tiniest moment I feared he would break me.

When he tried to get off me, I whimpered in protest, clutching at his shoulders. I didn't want him to leave, ever. He laughed softly and effortlessly flipped us over, cradling me against his chest. I snuggled closer to him and felt him kiss the top of my head. I was a mess of sweat and sand and sea water, and something else unrecognizable – was it feathers? – but I couldn't care less. There was nothing in my blissful haze but Edward and the way his arms were wrapped so protectively around me. I tucked my feet between his as he reached for the comforter, somewhere on the floor by the bed, throwing it around us. For once, the movement wasn't swift and accurate; it dropped softly at our waists. I tried to keep my eyes open. I didn't want to lose one moment of the time we had together for slumber, but exhaustion was cruelly taking over.

His fingers grazed my arm, their slow movement lulling me to sleep. "Close your eyes, love," he murmured, sounding quite breathless himself. "I'll be right here when you wake up."

"Do you promise?" I mumbled, somewhere between awareness and unconsciousness.

"Yes. I'll be here… forever."