Breaking Dawn Edward's Pov
Breaking Dawn: Edward
29
3. BIG DAY
“I miss you already.” “I don’t need to leave. I can stay…” “Mmm.” It was the eve of our wedding and Bella and I were lying in her narrow bed together, as was our habit. Though it was August, she was wrapped in her usual swaddling blanket, a protection against the chill of my skin. The bulky afghan did not prevent Bella’s hands from wandering about, exploring the unclothed parts of my body. If she had her way, both of us would be even less clothed. I found shirtless to be challenge enough. With Bella’s fingers probing the outlines of each muscle and bone above my waistband, her lips on mine, I was both awash in pleasure and sinking into concern. Some might call it performance anxiety and I could not deny it. When one’s performance was a matter of life and death, there was no shame in that. Bella dragged her tongue across my top lip and a surge of desire shot through me. It was all I could do to remain still and let the sensation fade. If she were a vampire, I would have rolled on top of her, stripped off the bulky afghan and pressed my entire body into hers. I would have kissed her passionately, tasting her lips, her tongue, and pulling her as close to me as the laws of physics would allow. Ahhh… I groaned and retreated from her caressing hands and her delicious, warm tongue. “Wait,” Bella murmured, clutching my arms. I watched as she kicked her right leg free from the blanket and wrapped it around my waist. “Practice makes perfect.” I chuckled. I’d heard that one before. Numerous times. “Well, we should be fairly close to perfection by this point, then, shouldn’t we? Have you slept at all in the last month?” “But this is the dress rehearsal,” she protested, “and we’ve only practiced certain scenes. It’s no time for playing safe.” Playing safe. My body froze as I considered how easy it would be to break Bella’s arm, or tear out a handful of her beautiful hair, or snap her spine, or… “Bella…” “Don’t start this again. A
29
3. BIG DAY
“I miss you already.” “I don’t need to leave. I can stay…” “Mmm.” It was the eve of our wedding and Bella and I were lying in her narrow bed together, as was our habit. Though it was August, she was wrapped in her usual swaddling blanket, a protection against the chill of my skin. The bulky afghan did not prevent Bella’s hands from wandering about, exploring the unclothed parts of my body. If she had her way, both of us would be even less clothed. I found shirtless to be challenge enough. With Bella’s fingers probing the outlines of each muscle and bone above my waistband, her lips on mine, I was both awash in pleasure and sinking into concern. Some might call it performance anxiety and I could not deny it. When one’s performance was a matter of life and death, there was no shame in that. Bella dragged her tongue across my top lip and a surge of desire shot through me. It was all I could do to remain still and let the sensation fade. If she were a vampire, I would have rolled on top of her, stripped off the bulky afghan and pressed my entire body into hers. I would have kissed her passionately, tasting her lips, her tongue, and pulling her as close to me as the laws of physics would allow. Ahhh… I groaned and retreated from her caressing hands and her delicious, warm tongue. “Wait,” Bella murmured, clutching my arms. I watched as she kicked her right leg free from the blanket and wrapped it around my waist. “Practice makes perfect.” I chuckled. I’d heard that one before. Numerous times. “Well, we should be fairly close to perfection by this point, then, shouldn’t we? Have you slept at all in the last month?” “But this is the dress rehearsal,” she protested, “and we’ve only practiced certain scenes. It’s no time for playing safe.” Playing safe. My body froze as I considered how easy it would be to break Bella’s arm, or tear out a handful of her beautiful hair, or snap her spine, or… “Bella…” “Don’t start this again. A