A/N: This is for my sister, izzzyy here on FFn. ILY babe, and HAPPY BIRTHDAY! This is your present :)

(warning: beta-less.)

Ooh, I can feel in your fingertips
Ooh, that your grip is for real
Come find yourself lost within these hips
Yeah, let me see how you feel

"Honey?" I say softly, my voice echoing through the mansion.

I can hear her light, graceful footsteps as she comes to me. Descending the stairs is my perfect wife. Small, but plump lips and her eternally golden brown eyes, shining from the faint light coming from the large windows next to the staircase.

"What is it, Carlisle?" she says in her debonair, husky voice.

Well, thank God the kids aren't around to hear this one.

"You know what I was thinking today?" I try to stay indifferent as she wraps her hands around my neck, lifting one leg in the air and kisses me sweetly. The same kiss for the last 300 years, and it always makes me feel the same. Tiny butterflies waltzing where my stomach is supposed to be; a sudden gasp of air; a strange feeling to the left side of my chest, where my heart is supposed to beat.

"Mmm, I can taste the elk on your lips." Esme glances down at my lips, licking her own slowly, as if she was trying to tease me.

I take a moment, even if that is a sixteenth of a second, to collect my thoughts and get straight to my point. I have a plan, and I am definitely going to put that into action.

"Happy Birthday, my love. How old are you today, anyway?" A smile plays on the corner of her mouth as she hears my question carefully. Her eyes dance from one of my own to another, probably thinking about the wittiest reply.

"Are you scared I'm getting old and losing my…appetite?"

And I know she didn't mean her eating appetite.

"There is a theory to women getting older and good sex, Carlisle." she says, kissing me again.

"Oh, there is?"

Her smile finally shows up. Devilish and sexy – only she could have this effect on me.

"You see, women get better with age. Just like a good glass of whisky –"

I cut her with a swift kiss, yet tender and loving.

"I don't drink whiskey."

She simply smirks.

"My point is – the older, the better. And you should be listening to what I say, since I'm older than you by three physical years."

I narrow my eyes at her as she bites her lip gently, then touching it with her tongue.

It's time for my punch line. "Well, that means I'm at my sexual peak, since I'm twenty-three."

She eyes me one last time before giving me the phrase that made me pick her up and go straight to our master bedroom.

"Well, then I should just show you how experienced I am."

Touché, my love, touché.