FADE TO BLACK

Twilight is not mine. No copyright infringement intended.

This was my entry for the BDE contest. I won 3rd place Judges' Vote, which is completely awesome.

I'll let you get to it. *insert eggplant emoji here*

Summary: There's another reason Edward wants to wait until the honeymoon—Bella can't outrun the monster when she's trapped on Isle Esme. Canon. Sort of.

So many thanks to BeLynda/Sarcastic Bimbo and Midnight Cougar for beta-ing. I truly appreciate their time and advice. They're that awesome polishing cloth that comes with sunglasses sometimes.

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I will break him.

Each time Edward turned me down, I called upon that mantra.

I thought I had him the night we got engaged. He had me pressed into the mattress, my leg hitched over his hip. I could feel how much he wanted me. And boy, did he want me — a lot. But as soon as I tried to take off some clothes, he decided to pull out that superhuman… self-control of his and ruined my night.

Except for the proposal. That was great. Of course I said yes, but…

I just didn't get why we had to wait. I wasn't going anywhere, but I wasn't getting any younger, either. And he definitely wasn't getting any older, so why not test the waters? Go out for a test drive or fifty? Maybe play a game of Just the Tip?

Thus began my mission to steal Edward's virtue.

One night, before he was due to climb in through my window, I tried to get my blood flowing with a little exercise. I did a few squats. Some jumping jacks. Just enough to get my "glow" on. Work that "I don't sweat, I sparkle" vibe. I figured it would amp up that humanallure he's always talked about, the "bouquet" he claims to love.

It was a good plan, in theory. But instead of finding me sexy, Edward thought I was sick.

"What have you been doing, Bella? You're so flushed. You look tired. Maybe you should have a rest."

He curled an arm around my back and drew me close, trying to check me for a fever. The back of his hand was cool on my heated skin, and of course I loved being in his arms, as always, but it did nothing to erase the sour taste his words evoked.

No one, especially no woman, appreciates being told she looks "tired."

That was the end of my exercise plan.

Next, I went the lingerie route, which didn't even make it off the ground. For one, Edward never really let me get any clothes off; also, lingerie is really hard to find in Forks, unless you're looking for L'eggs pantyhose or a Playtex cross-my-heart bra. Neither exactly lend themselves to seduction. Driving to Port Angeles was a no-go, since my old truck was on its last legs and could barely make it out to the Cullens'. I even did the unthinkable and begged Alice to take me shopping, but she only shook her head with barely concealed amusement and said it was a bad idea. Too many "uncertainties" in her vision.

She must've seen something awful for her to turn down an opportunity to drag me off for retail therapy, as she calls it (I call it the seventh circle of hell). It's also possible she was in Edward's pocket. Damn vampires are always in collusion.

Once, I waited for him completely naked. According to my sound logic, he couldn't possibly turn me down once he saw the goods.

It might've worked, but Edward was late that night, and Charlie came home early. He caught me on the couch under Granny Swan's scratchy crocheted quilt. Have I mentioned Granny Swan was really horrible at crochet? The quilt was riddled with odd-shaped holes. I thought it would entice Edward — naked Bella plus something ancient and (bonus!) revealing, and I couldn't lose. Surely, they did a lot of crochet back in the early 1900s, I reasoned. What else was there to do? There wasn't much sex going on, considering Edward's ridiculous desire to preserve our virtue.

After enough awkwardness to fill the Grand Canyon, I convinced Dad we were out of clean towels upstairs, and I had to run down to grab the first thing I could find. Not only did I completely humiliate myself, I also earned an unnecessary round of towel laundry.

Nailed it, Bella. Nailed. It.

To top it off, Edward was waiting for me when I finally managed to escape the awkwardness in the living room. Back braced against my headboard, legs crossed at the ankle, he looked like sex on a stick stretched out on my bed. I was ready to mount him then and there, humiliation forgotten… until he opened his mouth.

"I saw plenty of towels in the linen closet, love." He smirked, barely containing his laughter. Pointing at my toga full of holes, he offered, "Your crocheting needs some work. I believe Alice might be able to help."

Collusion, I tell you. Those two are always working against me.

In retaliation, I dropped the quilt. His eyes went black as his gaze raked me up and down. A soft growl rumbled in his chest, which made me nervous and turned me on all at once. The tip of his tongue slid over his bottom lip and he sat up straight, away from the headboard.

I've got you now, I sang inside my head. One slow step, then another, until my knees hit the bed. I set one knee on the mattress and watched as his hands dug into my comforter, as if to anchor himself in place. His eyes shut tight, but popped right back open like he couldn't control them. Those dark eyes couldn't decide where to land, bouncing between my breasts and the place that so desperately wished to make his acquaintance.

"Bella." He shook his head. "You're." He swallowed nervously. "So beautiful."

Slowly, I set my other knee on the bed and began to crawl up to him. Edward leaned toward me… closer… closer… a little more…

And then he leaped out the window.

"Son of a bitch!" I cursed, scowling out into the night. I wanted to yell, "I'll get you, my pretty!" but held it back. Barely.

"Bella! What was that?" Charlie called from downstairs.

"Nothing, Dad! Stubbed my toe."

My pride, more like it.

Those were only a few of my many harebrained schemes. All of which had the same result: I got shot down. Every damn time.

All in the name of honor. Virtue. Doing things the "right" way. Leaving that one (antiquated) rule unbroken.

He calls it respect. I call it frustrating.

In spite of my frustration, I admit there's something admirable about his old-school tendencies. They leave no doubt that he respects me, loves me, and places my well-being above all else. He's the love of my life, and I know I am his.

But, I'm also full of hormones. And their favorite singer is Marvin Gaye, if you know what I mean.

Which brings us to tonight. Today marks two weeks until the wedding, and if Alice has anything to say about it, Edward and I will be lucky to have an hour to ourselves until I walk down that aisle. What better way to make up for that separation than an evening of passion? A consummation of our impossible, inevitable love?

There's a good chance I'll fail, but I take consolation in the fact that whether it's tonight, or two weeks from tonight, it's going tohappen. And it will be amazing either way.

But victory will make it that much sweeter.

I've set the scene perfectly. It's midsummer in our meadow; the tall grass is lush and green, dotted with lavender flowers. The sun slowly sinks into the horizon, peeking through the gaps in trees to paint the clearing in washes of pink and orange. Soft music plays from a bluetooth speaker tucked behind my backpack.

No, it's not Marvin Gaye.

A quick check of the time has my blood humming with nerves. He'll be here any minute. Carefully, I place an open book face down nearby. Then I shake my hair out of its ponytail and strip out of my shirt, hurriedly smearing a bit of sunscreen on my shoulders. This has to look legit. Kicking off my shoes, I settle on my belly into the blanket, and try to appear as if I've been here a while, reading and enjoying the too rare sun. I rest my cheek atop my folded arms and sigh, enjoying the sun's last rays on my back. My bare back.

There's no way this won't work. I've seen the way he looks at me, when he thinks I'm not watching. News flash, Edward: I'm ALWAYS watching. Like Sting.

He finally approaches, his vampire feet slicing through the grass in an effort not to startle me. "Bella?"

I play possum like I'm trying to win an Oscar, hoping he'll think my racing heart is due to a dream.

"Bella," he sings softly, settling next to me and resting a cool hand on my back. It slides down and then back up, pushing my loose hair aside. His hand freezes the moment he notices the lack of bra. He hisses a breath, but doesn't move — just flattens his palm on my back. His thumb twitches, then strokes, back and forth.

I wait. Like a venus flytrap.

And then I bring out the big guns. "Edward," I sigh, with what I hope is just enough sexiness to sell it as unconscious need.

Edward moves his palm higher, pushing my hair completely out of the way and baring the length of my back. Slowly, he spreads his fingers wide and proceeds to cover every inch of naked skin. The faint dimples low on my back. The line of my spine. Over my ribs. Across my shoulder blades.

Oh, Edward. You're such a creeper, touching me while you think I'm asleep. It's really not that hot, except that it somehow is. We're both deviants.

His thumb drifts dangerously close to the side swell of my breast and stays there. Goose bumps pebble my skin and I barely hold in a moan.

Don't blow it. Venus Flytrap, Bella.

"If you only knew how much I want you," he whispers, "I wish… I don't want to hurt you. I'm not sure how much you can take. You're so fragile."

I clench my teeth at one of his more frequent arguments. I get it — he's strong. Of course he is, he's not human! I also trust him with my life, and know he'll never hurt me.

His thumb moves, full-on sweeping over the side boob. I sigh in delight and breathe his name again, praying he'll attribute it to a really good dream. He lifts his hand away, but replaces it with a single finger, slowly dragging down my side, then back up…

Right into my armpit.

He doesn't even bother to conceal his laughter as he tries to make me pee my pants. My answering squeal probably sends birds clamoring from the trees. I roll over and sit up, pushing at his arm, trying to catch my breath.

I smack lightly at his hands, ignoring the sting. "How did you know?"

He doesn't answer. When I finally blink the tickle tears from my eyes, I find him mesmerized. Predatory, black eyes pin me down, making me stay just as still as he is.

My mouth isn't frozen, however. "Eyes up here, Buddy."

He explodes into action, but not in the way I'd like.

"Here, your shirt." It hits me in the chest.

"Take this." He tosses the bra at my face.

He yanks the blanket out from under me like a magician pulling a tablecloth out from under a fully set table, except I go flying about three feet into the soft grass. The blanket lands on my head seconds after, and he bundles me up tight. I'm wrapped up like a caterpillar in a damn cocoon.

"It's hot in here, Edward!" In more ways than one.

The world shifts as he sets me on his lap. There's something hard under my butt, and I wonder if the bluetooth speaker got caught in the crossfire. I try to wriggle it out of the way, but Edward gives a pained grunt and I stop. I'm no princess and the pea; I can take it. I sleep on a rock hard vampire every night. Finally, he peels the blanket away, baring my head and neck.

"Bella, why are you always trying to take off your clothes?" he asks, with a put-upon expression.

I scowl at him. "Most guys wouldn't be complaining."

"I'm not most guys."

"Believe me, I know." He starts to shake his head and look away, but I keep talking. "I know, because you're the kindest, gentlest person I've ever met. You're smart, you're sweet, and you're sort of funny when you're not making all my decisions for me."

Edward smiles, his eyes going soft. I work a hand out of the blanket cocoon and slide my fingers into the hair at the back of his head.

"You treat me like I'm made of glass, and I know it's because you love me. But sometimes a girl doesn't want to be treated like glass. Sometimes she wants to be… handled." I can't resist waggling my eyebrows the tiniest bit.

He snorts, managing to make even that look attractive. "Bella, you're so much more than precious glass. You're priceless, and infinitely more fragile. Protecting you from myself is the hardest thing I'll ever have to do."

"You won't hurt me. I know you won't."

He sighs, agony in his eyes. "Bella, if I slip up, things could go very wrong. We need to be prepared. Ease into it. I don't want to rush this. I want to spend hours learning your body, what you can take. I can't give you… all of me… out here, hurrying to get you home before Charlie decides to come looking for us. It's only two weeks. I promise you, you won't regret it. I won't leave you wanting, ever again."

I blink a stray tear from my eye. "You're good, Cullen," I blow out on a sigh. "You'd better measure up."

A wicked grin makes him look less like a young man and more like the vampire he truly is. "Oh, I will. I hope you're ready."

Giving it one more try, I say, "Let's practice."

"So stubborn," he murmurs fondly.

Mostly joking, I prod, "Can I at least touch it?"

All the mirth slips from his face and he shakes his head quickly. "No. Not tonight."

Why does he look so panicky? Then a strange, yet terrifying thought hits me.

"Edward? Are you… um… impotent?"

Now he looks mad. "What?!"

"It's okay, you know. I love you no matter —"

"Where the hell did you get that idea?"

"Anne Rice," I rush out. "Lestat and Louis couldn't ever get it up. I think it was because they only reproduced through blood sharing and their bodies didn't need to spend extra energy on maintaining erections or other bodily functions—"

"Bella," Edward sighs, closing his eyes like I'm trying his patience.

I know this look, because trying his patience is one of my very favorite things to do.

"I am not. Impotent." He shifts his hips, and the bluetooth speaker nudges me in the butt.

Oh. Oh! So… that's not my Beats Pill trapped down there?

Well. That settles the Anne Rice debate.

It also makes me rethink my, um, burning desire to have my way with him before the wedding. Oh, I still want it — I mean, him, but I need a little time to wrap my head around this rather large development. Before I wrap other things around it.

—x—

Even though I'm mostly resigned to waiting until the honeymoon, I spend the entire two weeks leading up to the wedding obsessing over the wedding night.

Through all the questions about flower and seating arrangements, last minute alterations, and one epic Alice meltdown due to a local shortage of white Christmas lights (it's hard to find them in August, go figure), I just can't get it out of my head. I mean, him. Edward. I'm marrying the man, not his foot long Chicago-style weiner.

When I do manage to squeeze out some time alone with my fiancé, my eyes wander. But vampires don't miss much — he catches me every time my eyes even drift south of the border.

"I'm more than just a piece of meat, Bella," he says with a smirk I'm beginning to want to slap.

Since a broken hand isn't exactly wedding chic, I refrain. There's one thing more intimidating than the size of Edward's banana-hammock-buster, and that's Alice in wedding planner mode.

"I can't help it. That thing has its own gravitational force. My eyes can't resist. It's physics."

With a laugh, he pulls me into his arms and flops back onto my bed. "Does that mean I can impale you with my magnetic pole?"

"Ooh, good one," I giggle, thoroughly enjoying this more easygoing, slightly immature version of Edward.

"I learned from the best." He winds a hand in my hair and urges me down for a kiss.

He's definitely loosened up. I think he senses my fear; it must be a vampire trait. What he doesn't know is that it's not purely fear. There's a good bit of morbid curiosity and even more hormone-driven lust in there, as well. He'll find that out soon enough.

—x—

Getting married is exhausting. All that planning, decision making, and stress, culminating in one day that I'm supposed to remember forever… and it's all one big blur. But the way Edward looked at me as I walked down the aisle, the joy on his face when I said "I do," that was crystal clear. When we locked eyes, tunnel vision swept in and I only saw him. No flowers or decorations, no guests, not even Pastor Weber.

There was only Edward. As it's been from the very beginning.

I thought being married would feel a bit odd, but the rightness of it surprises me. I agreed to marry Edward because we belong together, but I thought my more modern sensibilities didn't require a contract to cement our love. I was wrong. We've always belonged together, but now we belong to each other.

"Tired, love?"

Edward's soft voice draws me out of my thoughts. I lift my head off his shoulder and smile, even though he basically insinuated I look tired again.

"Just thinking."

"About?"

"The wedding."

He smiles wide, almost a dopey smile. If vampires could get high, they'd grin just like Edward.

"You were so beautiful."

"So were you." I pretend to fan myself. "That tux… wow."

"I packed the bow tie. Just in case."

I can't tell if he's kidding or not. I'm not sure if I want him to be kidding.

He peers down at me, one eyebrow raised in what seems like a challenge.

I raise a brow right back as I say, "I brought the garter. Just in case."

He huffs a laugh and focuses on the ocean ahead. His chaotic hair blows in the sea breeze as we speed over the water. Edward drives the boat just like he drives his car — just shy of the speed of light. I can see faint lights on the horizon, just beyond the moon's reflection on the choppy sea.

A bright, full moon lights up the night, so much so that I can see quite clearly, even with my human eyes. Stars are tiny spotlights, illuminating a glittering stretch of sandy beach that veritably glows as we near a small island. I can't tear my eyes away, excitement fizzing in my belly like the champagne I sipped at the wedding.

"This is beautiful, Edward," I breathe, struggling to take it all in.

"It's just a small pit stop, I'm afraid," he says with an apologetic sigh.

I whip my head over, mouth hanging open in disappointment. Even if this wasn't one of the most beautiful places I've ever seen, we've been traveling for over twenty-four hours and this girl needs a human moment.

"The helicopter should be here shortly. Then, we'll skydive into a volcano on the next island over. Don't worry, it's extinct—"

"I'm going to kill you."

The picture of innocence, he asks, "Who, me?"

"You're such a lying liar."

His lips twitch. "Oh, so you're the only one who gets to tease?"

He's got me there. "Well, you don't have to be so good at it," I grumble.

He steers the boat right into the slip and cuts the engine. "I'm good at a lot of things," he promises, his grin wolfish.

Those pesky hormones go wild at the implication.

With one lithe hop up to the dock, he ties off, securing the boat for the night, then extends a hand down to me. I take it and fly straight into his arms. His strength and speed still manage to make me dizzy at times. I'm a little wobbly when he sets me down, but he keeps me steady as we both admire the almost untouched island paradise.

With an excited smile, Edward looks down at me. "Come. Let me show you Isle Esme."

—x—

"This isn't nerves. This is excitement." I stare back at my unsure reflection, taking in her tousled hair and unbelievably uncomfortable lingerie, the latter courtesy of Alice.

Collusion, I tell you.

However, I do look hot.

"Excitement," I repeat. "Anticipation." I purse my lips and try that one again. "Antici…pation." Nothing like a little Rocky Horror for a confidence boost. "Don't dream it, be it…"

"Bella? Why are you singing?" Edward calls from just outside the door.

Now it's definitely nerves. And mortification. "You're supposed to be swimming!"

"You've been in here for forty-five minutes, love." His amusement practically oozes through the door.

I don't really know what to say, so I suck it up and open the door. The smile I knew was there immediately drops from his face, his eyes glaze over, and then he squeezes them shut. When they open again, they're black.

The pressure of that predatory gaze is overwhelming, so I let my eyes wander in their own perusal. Beads of saltwater kiss his broad shoulders, skim the lean planes of his chest. They cling to his abs and slide down beneath the waistband of his blue trunks.

His very tight trunks. Trunk being the operative word… I don't know whether to be scared or offer it peanuts to entice it to come closer.

One minute I'm staring down the barrel of a bazooka, and the next I'm falling back against plush down pillows. Edward grins down at me wickedly from his place at the foot of the bed. I try to gracefully rearrange my limbs from spread-eagled spazz to seductive siren.

He puts one knee on the bed. "I don't like to be kept waiting, Mrs. Cullen," he drawls, low and raspy.

Goosebumps pop up everywhere at the sound of his voice, rendering my panicked pre-sex shower useless. I need to stall — and pray it doesn't grow more. "It's only fair. You're the one with the purity ring, Jonas brother."

Throwing his head back, he laughs. "There was never a ring."

"Not literally," I shoot back. "There was an invisible one." I point right at the monster and draw an imaginary circle, with a slash through it. "Right there."

He brings up his other knee and drops down on all fours, coming closer. "Love, are you stalling? You, the vixen who has dedicated her existence to stealing my virtue?"

I snicker at the word "vixen."

He looms over me. "Now you don't have to steal it. I'm telling you to come and take it."

My laughter dries up, evaporated by the heat of his stare. And, let's be honest — the size of his stake.

"Edward—"

Stretching out on top of me, Edward steals a quick kiss. "Bella. Stop talking." His mouth comes down on mine again, harder this time. But I'm not quite done.

"I just want to know one thing." I shouldn't say what I'm about to, but I can't resist.

"Ask me anything." He's so sincere, and it's so sweet, considering he looked ready to gag me a minute ago. I almost feel guilty. But, I'm committed now.

"If that thing gives me a mortal injury, you'll change me, right? You used to go on and on about the monster inside, but you failed to mention the monster hanging outside—

Edward claps a hand over my mouth and I dissolve into giggles. It's a good half a minute before I'm able to stop laughing at my own joke.

"Are you done making fun of me, now?"

He looks so stern. So much like the Edward I first met in that Biology classroom. Swallowing back one last laugh, I nod.

"You haven't even seen it yet," he chastises, and I feel like a problem student getting lectured by a taciturn professor.

A scenario that suddenly has many interesting possibilities.

I drag a finger from his collarbone all the way down. He's hard and cool and smooth, and I know he'll feel perfect against my overheated skin. I look up at him through lowered lashes. "So show me."

A hint of a smile twists his lips. "I think I need you to say it. Out loud."

The last time I heard those words, I was a bit more afraid than turned on. Tonight is a totally different story.

"I'm waiting, Bella," he says in a dark voice, dipping his head to place a wet kiss just under my jaw.

I swallow nervously, knowing he can feel the movement beneath his lips. He waits, kissing a line down my throat and back up. When he reaches my ear, he whispers, "Say it."

The first time I try, my voice won't work. "Show me, please," I finally manage.

Edward lifts his head and looks down at me with a devilish glint in his eyes. "Be more specific."

Oh, God. What am I supposed to say? Please, Edward. Show me your five-dollar footlong? Can Vlad the Impaler come out to play?

"Um…" I make the mistake of looking down between us, where the object of our discussion is pressing into my thigh. There's a gap in the waistband of his trunks, and I can… Is that…? No, it can't be!

IT IS. It's poking out of the top of his damn shorts, winking at me!

My eyes dart back up to his, and he's lost all his patience. He crushes his mouth to mine, kissing me with a force he's never used before. His tongue glides over my lips, just barely slipping inside. I gasp in surprise and delight, and moan when he gives me a bit more. Threading my fingers into his hair, I pull him closer.

Edward moans into my mouth, and I tug a little harder. He slips a finger beneath one of my bra straps and slides it down over my shoulder. His touch is cool against my skin, but my blood is hot enough to heat us both. Breaking our kiss, he peers down at me, eyes glittering like midnight.

"Say it."

So I do. I swallow my embarrassment, because I can't wait any longer. I want it. I want him.

I take a deep breath, and… "Take it out. Show me your cock."

Edward looks as shocked as I am by my words, but he quickly recovers, kissing me like he'll never stop. His hips grind into mine, long and slow, giving me a tactile preview of the show I've been waiting for. I feel his hands working at my bra and panties, there one second and gone the next, until all I feel is cool, hard skin and rumpled sheets.

He pulls away to trail his mouth down my neck and chest, leaving my lips tingling and kiss-bruised. A cool tongue circles one nipple, then the other. Strong hands cup my breasts and I look down to meet Edward's gaze as he kisses and licks and nuzzles.

"So beautiful," he murmurs, closing his eyes and laying his head on my chest.

It takes a moment for me to figure out what he's doing — feeling my heart beating. I stroke the hair away from his brow, arching up as one of his hands trails over my ribs, along my side, and down my thigh.

My heart races faster.

He shifts his weight to one side and brings his hand back up, smoothing along my inner thigh this time, all the way up to where I've dreamed of having him. The heel of his palm presses into the sweetest spot and rotates, and my eyes roll back.

Am I having a heart attack? I didn't think it could beat this fast. The rhythm in my ears is deafening.

Edward lifts his head and arches up to lay a soft kiss beneath my ear. "Breathe, love."

I do as he says. It's about all I can do at this point.

I didn't expect this. This feeling, this huge, all-encompassing thing (no, not the other thing) between us is more than I could've ever imagined. It's love and trust and laughter and belonging and just everything all at once, and it's almost too much.

And we haven't even gotten to the really good part yet.

One long finger strokes me open, and Edward growls when he feels the wetness there. I look up to find his gaze fixed on us as he coats his fingers, dragging them up to circle my clit. We lock eyes, and he looks positively feral. Hair every which way, chest heaving, eyes black as pitch. Lower, he tortures me with touches that alternate between almost perfect and not quite enough. Pleasure curls and twists and turns, winding up and falling back, making me lose my mind.

He dips his head, taking my mouth in a kiss that makes my toes curl. I clutch at his shoulder, looking for an anchor. My hips arch up, searching for that last, elusive bit of friction, and I pull my mouth from his, desperate for breath. Edward looms above me, wild eyes pinning me down, as his fingers slide lower. I whimper at the loss, which turns into a moan when he pushes a finger inside me. He's so gentle as he moves, but the way he watches me… I've never really understood why everyone says he looks at me like I'm something to eat. Not until now. And tonight, I'm embracing the role of his prey.

Another finger joins the first, stretching me wider as his thumb returns to play with my clit. His head dips to my neck and I bare it to him willingly, crying out at the feeling of his sheathed teeth on my skin. He growls low, releasing my neck and soothing the burn with his tongue. His fingers curl and stroke and circle, pulling all my muscles taut like piano strings, and I hang there, waiting, hoping, drowning…

"Let go, love. I've got you," he breathes, whisper soft against my neck.

And suddenly I'm a rocket, streaming sparks and burning bright; then I fall from orbit, a thrilling, flaming spiral back to Earth. It's like nothing I've ever felt, and I know I'll be chasing it for the rest of my life. Every day. Possibly every hour. As much as humanly — or inhumanly — possible.

Edward drags damp fingers up the middle of my body, palm pausing above my still racing heart.

"Bella?"

His voice is quiet, concerned. It makes me wonder how long I've been out of it.

"Hmm?" I hum with a lazy smile. I can't quite lift my eyelids yet.

His quiet laughter makes my smile grow.

"I take it that was okay?"

"Yep."

More laughter. "Will you at least look at me?"

"Nope. My eyelids don't work."

"That's a pity." His voice darkens, takes on an edge that reminds me we're not done yet.

Not by a long shot. Insert big dick joke here.

"I still have something to show you."

My eyes pop open immediately, just like he intended. "You'd better follow through."

"Oh, I'm up for the challenge."

"Ooh, good one," I drawl, slapping a hand to his chest and pushing.

He takes pity on me and flops onto his back, grin stretched wide. My gaze travels every inch of his chest and slides down his abs, to the very prize I've been trying to win for way too long.

I've never seen a live dick before. In person, I mean. I've seen some porn, but watching it in Charlie's house didn't exactly do it for me. But I've seen enough to know what Edward's packing isn't for the faint of heart.

I pull the drawstring loose and slide a finger underneath, daring to graze the tip, smirking when he sucks in a breath. My other hand I place flat on his thigh and stroke up, over his balls and all the way up the length of him. I can't tear my eyes away. Edward's body shudders, hips arching into my hand. Hooking my fingers under the waistband, I pull it away from the head of his cock, and get my first glimpse.

The moment feels monumental. Pun intended.

It's like the unveiling of a nuclear warhead. There should be a full on military parade celebrating its success. To show the other penises who's boss.

Slowly, I strip the trunks down to reveal the entire length of him. He kicks them off his legs while I stare. And stare. It's pale just like the rest of him, long and hard and thick. It's a perfect specimen, one that belongs in the annals of peen history.

And it's never going to fit.

"This is why you didn't want to have sex, isn't it?" I exclaim. "You were afraid you'd kill me with your cock!"

He sits up and wraps me in his arms, pulling my legs on either side of his. "No. Well, possibly…"

Comforting.

"This is what you meant when you said we'd 'try.'"

His lips twitch and he smooths a hand up and down my back. I realize how close we are, how his cock is pressed right between my legs, and I can't help but circle my hips. Everything goes wet and hot and fucking fantastic, and the nervous fear begins to ebb.

"We will try, love, if that's what you want. But if you're not ready—"

"I want it. I'm ready." I cup his face in my hands. "I want to be with you," I whisper, pushing everything away but my love for him. "I trust you."

"Thank God," Edward sighs in relief, just before our lips meet. His kiss starts out tender but ends up hungry and wild as our hands wander.

My breasts are in his hands, and my own roam up and down his sides before moving inward. I grip the base of his shaft and squeeze, loving the little growl it draws from his chest. My fingers don't quite meet around his girth, but hey, I have two hands. Problem solved. I stroke him slowly, learning what he likes by the way his body responds.

He likes just about everything, and it makes me feel like a goddess.

As he trails kisses up my neck, his hand slides down between us, where he finds me even wetter than before. With an appreciative moan, he slips a finger inside, then two. I drop my head back and bite my lip to keep from begging him for more, circling my hips to meet his fingers, forgetting to do anything but give his cock an occasional squeeze.

His magic thumb strokes my clit, rolls and strums, and I'm almost there, and… then he adds another finger.

I'm not going to lie. It's a tight fit. I can't help the way my body freezes at the intrusion, but it only lasts a second.

"Okay?" Edward asks, looking up at me, concern in his eyes.

"Keep touching me," I breathe, relaxing in his arms. "It's good."

I catch a glimpse of a satisfied smile before he winds a fist in my hair and pulls my mouth down to his. Those fingers work their magic and stretch past the burn, his thumb works miracles, and I'm coming again. I wind my arms around his neck and collapse into his chest.

"You're awfully good at that," I pant. "You sure you're a virgin?"

"Mind reading has its perks. People think about sex all the time. A lot of weird, crazy shit."

"Good thing you can't read me," I tease, beginning to catch my breath. I lift my head and grin at him, waggling my eyebrows.

One of his arches up, lending a wicked cast to his expression. "Now your fantasies, I'd be happy to see. Many times over."

"I think you just covered a solid majority."

"And I won't stop until we check off every single one."

Wow. What happened to my reserved, sexually repressed vampire? Not that I'm complaining.

"By all means, check away." I dip my head down to kiss him, smothering his laugh.

As soon as our lips touch, we get lost in each other again.

He wraps his arms around my waist and hoists me up so my breasts are level with his face. He stares so hard, with such adoration, that I think he might start talking to them. Instead, he puts his mouth to better use. I wrap my arms around his head and hold him there. One of his hands snakes around to cup my breast, kneading the swell as his mouth closes around my nipple. His tongue is gentle and perfect, and I feel each stroke between my legs. And as much as I love this, there's one not-so-little thing I want to try. I push on his shoulders and he sets me back down in his lap.

I wrap my legs around him and bring my hands up to his neck, thumbs skimming the hard line of his jaw. He gazes up at me and runs his hands up and down my sides.

"I'm ready," I say, watching the words register on his face.

"You're sure?" His voice is rough, the strain of holding back finally catching up with him.

"I love you. I've been sure since the day I met you."

A tiny smile softens the tension on his face. "The day I wanted to slaughter you in front of the whole class?"

I laugh. "Well… maybe since you came back from Alaska."

He presses his forehead to mine and says softly, "I thought of you every single minute I was there. I love you, Bella Cullen."

And then the time for sweet words is over. When we kiss, it's a little rougher. He's still holding back, but there's a noticeable difference in Pre-wedding Edward and Honeymoon Edward, in more ways than one. There's an implication in each kiss, a promise that we're not about to stop until we want to.

His hands grip my hips and pull me down while he pushes up, grinding me into his erection. He drinks up my moan like it's blood, takes my pleasure into himself. The length of him glides through my wetness, until everything is slick and my heat has warmed him. Breaking the kiss, he looks down between us and watches himself slide. I look too and feel a moment of panic. His dick stretches up past his bellybutton, for God's sake. But this is Edward. My husband. We were made to fit each other, and I trust him. I put my worry away and focus on him. On us.

"Wrap your arms around my shoulders."

I do as he asks and he rewards me with another one of those new, thrilling kisses. When we break apart, he says, "I think we should try it like this."

I nod, diving back in for another kiss, which we both get lost in. I'm not sure when I decide to move, but I shift position and come up on my knees, in between searing kisses. Edward's hands roam all over, like he can't decide where to touch. One of them snakes down between us and positions himself right at my entrance. We pull apart just enough to make eye contact for a few scorching moments as I let myself sink down.

My eyes start to water. His cock puts those three fingers to shame. It's not terrible, so I'm not tapping out yet. I force myself to relax, and he slides a little farther.

Edward's head drops to my shoulder with a quiet moan, grabs my hips again, and tugs me a little closer.

It's like sitting on a freaking flag pole. I stifle a yelp and press my hands to his chest to slow him down. He lifts his head, looking a bit disoriented, but shakes it off.

"You okay?" His breath is ragged, and lines of strain crease his brow. It's obvious that holding back is taking every ounce of control he has.

And knowing that I've done this to him makes me even more determined to give him what he needs.

I smooth some hair back from his forehead, smiling at the way he leans into my touch. "Yeah, just slower."

"I can do slow," he says, and I'm not sure if he's telling me or himself. He brings a hand up to my jaw, thumb stroking my lips. "Open."

He tastes faintly sweet, his skin a smooth, cool contrast to my nearly feverish body. I suck his thumb into my mouth, watching as his eyes go hooded. I'm disappointed when he pulls away, but then he trails his hand down the middle of my body and plants his wet thumb right on my clit.

Now it's my turn to get lost, because the sensation of his thumb and those maddening circles, in addition to the steady, slow pressure of his cock, is so intense I'm not sure if I hate it or love it. Too much sensation swallows me whole, and all I can do is hold on to Edward's broad shoulders and bury my face in his neck. The thick slide of his erection stretches me to my limits, but as he lets out a low, half-growl, half-moan, I'm determined to relax even more.

But nothing happens.

I look down between us and see that we're not even close. Not quite halfway there. My poor lady parts weep.

My somewhat panicked eyes meet Edward's sort of desperate ones.

"This is probably going to hurt."

More than it already does? "What do you m—"

The rest of it is cut off by a completely unsexy yowl as one sharp tug drives in another couple inches and just about wrenches me in half. There's a flash of lightning hot pain that quickly fades to a more moderate, pants-monster-impalement sort of pain.

"I'm so sorry, love. I just figured it was better—"

"To rip the band-aid off?" I supply, a little miffed. But at least I didn't have to say the word "hymen."

He nods, stroking my sides as I struggle to adjust. "Is it… okay?"

I shake my head. "Just… please, kiss me." I need a distraction. Everything is always better when he's kissing me.

His lips are soft, almost apologetic as he wraps his arms around me. "You feel so good," he whispers, before diving right back in. We kiss like we're trying to become one person. Our hands are everywhere, grabbing and stroking and pulling, and before long all I can think about is how close we are, how amazing he feels.

I relax my thighs and sink down a little more. Though it burns, I'm more prepared, and the thick slide gives way to a feeling of fullness, rather than pain. Edward's breathing grows choppy and his kisses become clumsy. I take a little bit more of him and he moans, his hands gripping my hips so tightly I'll have bruises in the morning. But as I pull back to watch his face, see those handsome features washed in pleasure, it's completely worth every ounce of pain.

I gaze right into those lost, black eyes, and sink down all the way. It's like I sat down on a baseball bat, but I breathe through it. But as the discomfort fades away, I'm left with the most delicious, aching fullness.

Edward buries his face in my neck, mouth open against my skin. "Fuck," he hisses.

"Take what you want, Edward," I whisper, giving his words back to him. But I'm not sure what they truly mean. Do I want him to just give in and fuck me, or bite me? Maybe both?

Either way, I get what I want.

There's a flash of movement and then I'm on my back, dizzy and staring up at him from a bed of soft down. He plants a hand next to my head and grips my hip with the other, then pulls back in a long, slow glide. He sets a rhythm that's maddening in its leisurely pace.

And it hurts.

But then it doesn't.

Pinned down by his unyielding strength, I catalogue everything — every shift of muscle, every low moan, every breathless praise.

"So perfect."

"Take it. Take all of me."

"You're everything."

I pull at his shoulders, needing to feel him in my arms. He gives me most of his weight, sliding his arms beneath me and dropping his head to my shoulder. I wrap my legs around his waist, and the shift in position sends him even deeper — I feel him everywhere at once. I am fire and he is ice, and we're both disappearing in a volatile flash of steam.

That slow, steady pace accelerates, becomes less steady as his control frays at the edges. He changes the angle, and the base of his cock slides right over my clit with every pass. The friction, the burn, the unbelievable depth of his strokes, it all overloads my senses. They all scream one word.

Edward.

Now I'm the one moaning, panting encouragements and compliments. He clutches me tighter, thrusts harder, until I'm almost screaming his name. I try to meet his thrusts with my own, chasing an orgasm I never dreamed to catch. I rake my fingers through his hair and pull, needing to kiss him more than I want to breathe. I want to drink up his words, share his breath. His mouth comes down on mine with a groan as he slides a hand down to grip my thigh, pulling it higher on his side.

"Bella… Fuck," he growls, ripping his mouth away from mine. He shoves his face into the pillow next to my head and gives one last, punishing thrust. His big body freezes and then slumps onto my chest.

My entire body is screaming for more, but I push it away in favor of comforting my mate. He's made this experience better than I could've ever dreamed, and want to repay him in kind. I gently comb my fingers through his hair, run soothing hands down his back. He finally lifts his head… and spits out a mouthful of feathers.

He looks like it might as well have been a steaming pile of wolf shit. I'm an awesome wife, so I laugh at him.

The laughter stops when he pulls out. Though he's gentle, there's no easy way to pull your giant dick out of your newly de-virginized wife that won't hurt at least a little. But he comes back a few minutes later with a warm cloth and a feather free mouth.

Edward cleans up the bed as best he can, but when we settle in among the sheets, a few stray feathers fly. I take my place against his chest, just like I always did back in Forks. He tucks me in under his chin and takes a deep breath. He seems more relaxed than I've ever seen him, but then he tenses up.

I pick up my head to meet his eyes. "What?"

"You didn't come," he says, looking disappointed.

"I came twice," I remind him, but I know what he means. "In the beginning, you told me you weren't a superhero, do you remember?"

He laughs a little, like he doesn't get it but wants to humor me. "Yes… but?"

"I'm pretty sure you'd have to be a superhero to give me an orgasm the first time. And that's not taking into account the size of your hymen hammer."

Yep. I said it. And the look on his face is worth it.

"Did you Google penis euphemisms?"

He's having trouble controlling his laughter, which is just what I want. It's what I always want. To make him happy.

I look away but can't stop my smirk. "I plead the Fifth."

"I have ways of making you talk."

"I'd love to see you try."

Those eyes glint and his smile goes wicked. "That's exactly what I wanted to hear."

He pins my arms at my sides and kisses a line all the way down my torso. The last thing I see before I'm blinded by pleasure is his copper bright hair buried between my legs.

After that, there's only one thing—he was worth the wait.

THE END

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Thanks for reading!

Thanks to the hosts and judges of The Biggest Dick Ever Contest for putting on such a great one. Writing for such a monster of a contest has been fun.