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Frenze

A/N: Posting this on my birthday, which is an extra-special incentive to review :)?

By „eck, it‟s hard writing about springtime in Florence when it‟s brass monkeys weather here in Merry Olde
England. The snow‟s shin-deep, but do I get any snow days from work so I can stay home and write? No
chance...

I know every author says this, but every time I get an email alert to say I‟ve got a new review or someone has
added the story as a favourite, it makes my black little heart swell with joy. It‟s the best motivation I could
wish for to continue writing, and thank you all so much – I try to reply to all reviews but if I miss anyone,
I‟m sorry.

Someone pointed out that Edward and Bella getting it on so early could bring Reneesme Renessme
Renesmee forth a lot sooner than expected. In my story we‟re just going with the concept that vampires
can‟t reproduce, so there will be no babies. Mainly because I can‟t spell Renezme Renesmay thingy. It
reduces the possibilities for lemons and no-one wants that, do they?

Thanks to octoberlands for Beta reading this chapter – I know I overdo the commas and I promise I‟m
trying to cut down.

FYI, Firenze is the Italian name for Florence, but is almost sounds like the word „frenzy‟, which works with
the first part of the chapter... Some pictures are on my Photobucket account (link is in my profile).

I‟ll shut up now.


FIRENZE

Edward grabbed me, knocking me backwards onto the bed and landing above me on all fours. I shrieked,
but not through fear. His eyes were...wild...but it wasn‟t bloodlust ruling Edward, just plain old lust.

His lips attacked my neck, focusing on one spot below my ear; sucking, sucking, sucking. The movement of
his mouth seemed to have a direct connection to that spot between my legs; the pressure built up, but I
couldn‟t shift my thighs together because Edward‟s legs were between my knees, keeping me wide open.
One of his hands spread over my ribcage, just below my breast, and the other fisted in the sheets beside my
head. I bucked my hips, trying to meet his, but he ignored my undulations and gasped pleas.

“Edward…” I whimpered, and he left my neck to stare down at me, his expression dark and primal, the
vibrations of his growls passing from his skin to mine. He yanked the satin cup of my bra down, forcing my
breast up above it, and when I looked down I was framed by satin, displayed to him. The skin there
trembled with the force of my pants, pale but with a hesitant blush spreading outwards. He gave one
tentative, flat lick across my nipple, and I shrieked again, wanting so much more contact but pinned to the
bed by him. He freed my other breast in the same manner, and reached up to cup me, running his fingers
over my sensitive skin and all I could do was tense and beg for more.

One hand swept down my ribs, to the bow of ribbon at my hip. I felt him pull, and the fabric fall open. He
pushed it to one side, exposing me to him, and slid his fingers inside me. These were far from the hesitant
touches of this afternoon, but oh God it felt good. I writhed beneath him, feeling that familiar wave rising in
me, about to crash down and sweep me away.

Abruptly, his fingers were gone, and I was at the head of the bed, sat upright against a mound of pillows, my
back to the headboard. My breasts were still exposed, pushed up and held tight in place by the satin below
them, and the panties lay open, draped over one hip. He spread my legs wide and knelt between them,
suddenly naked. His skin was very, very white against the dark backdrop of the room, and he looked every
inch the mythical god carved from marble.

“Do you want this?” he rumbled, and it was the same question he‟d asked me in the courtyard, but the man
it came from wasn‟t the same at all. If I said no, would he be able to stop himself? But, of course, I wouldn‟t
say no.

“Please,” I breathed. “Yes please.”

He was in me before I‟d finished speaking, and I had a moment of discomfort as he stretched me just like
the first time, but I bit my lip and waited it out. He wasn‟t hesitant at all, moving so quickly I couldn‟t follow
it with my eyes, and instead I had to close them, and focused on the sensation of Edward filling me.

I could feel the power in him as he pounded into me, and I understood in that instant why he was always
afraid he would hurt me - his movements were just this side of painful as he crashed and withdrew, and he
wasn‟t using anything like the strength he was capable of. I didn‟t know where his hands were, but they
weren‟t on me. It let me concentrate entirely on the place where we were joined, and the sensations he
wrought within me.

The speed of him seemed to move my body on fast-forward, the wave inside me building up and crashing
down in seconds, catching me unawares and forcing screams from my throat as I writhed around him. The
sounds that ripped from his chest in that moment were, truthfully, frightening. I felt him tense and still, then
heard an almighty crack. In the next instant we were airborne, and I buried my face in his chest, keeping it
there until the world had stilled around us.

When I dared to open my eyes, it took a long moment to get my bearings, with my breathing still shallow
and my heart drumming a furious tattoo in my chest. We were on the floor between the beds, and I was in
Edward‟s lap, cradled to him. I opened my mouth to ask why we were there then closed it again when the
bed beside us caught my eye.

One of the posts that were supposed to hold the canopy up was a splintered ruin, and the magnificent
canopy itself was spread half across the bed, and half across the floor, the whole edifice hanging at a
dangerous angle.

“You did that?” I asked when I could. My voice was hoarse, presumably from screaming. Edward nodded
his jaw tight.

“You could have been injured,” came his bleak response.

Oh no. I could see where this was headed.

His hands moved over me, not sensually this time but clearly checking for injuries.

“Edward, I‟m okay. You got me out of the way in time.”

He wouldn‟t meet my eyes, and shook his head. “It was because of me. I was being so rough; it was just a
matter of luck that it was the bed and not you -”

I lifted a hand to his jaw, and used all my strength to make him face me. Even that only worked because he
complied. I took a deep, centering breath, and prayed my blush would keep away.

“Edward, I liked it. I liked that you were – like that.” I‟d almost said “rough” but my courage failed me at
the last moment.

I was telling the truth – it was so different to the first time, which had been an expression of desperation and
love, but this had been about desperation of a different kind. To make Edward lose control like that was
more than I‟d ever dared to hope for.

He blinked, astonished. “Do you mean that?” he asked, and this time it was me that couldn‟t meet his eyes.

I nodded, and the familiar blush ignored my prayers and invited itself into the conversation. “Couldn‟t you
tell that I...you know. Enjoyed it.”

His expression softened, all the self-loathing and anguish and feral desire sweeping away and being replaced
by the man I‟d seen this afternoon, when we lay together in the courtyard.

“Oh, Bella.” He swept my hair behind my shoulder and kissed my forehead, leaving his hand to rest at my
throat. “Sweet girl.” His voice held as much reverence as his eyes, and all the tension I‟d felt, waiting for
him to go running at the near-accident, melted away.
He kissed me, gently this time, and for long, sweet minutes it was just about his lips moving over mine, and
soft words spoken from his mouth. Eventually his tongue made an appearance, but even that was less
insistent than it had been all day, approaching and retreating with gentle strokes that gave me tingles.

He lifted me and set me down on the unbroken bed, laying me down in the centre and leaving me lost for
words as he stood beside me, the clean lines of his body backlit by the street lights.

My bra came off first, with gentle kisses and nibbles place on my breasts and down my ribcage, followed by
my panties, slid slowly down the one leg they still covered. That left me in the stockings and garters.

“I wish I could do this with my teeth,” he said as he unclasped one sliver of satin, stroking the skin it
uncovered. I gasped, and my belly clenched in anticipation. The stockings seemed to take forever in coming
off, since he kissed each new inch of skin that was revealed as he rolled them down, and when they were
gone he kissed his way back up my body until he was lying over me, nestled between my legs and resting up
on his elbows. His face was inches from mine. This was intimate.

He pushed into me again, and I let out a soft moan which he echoed, our gazes never leaving each other.

He moved slowly this time, so I could feel each individual thrust, every inch of him gliding inside me. I
could meet his thrusts for the first time, and after a few false starts we found a rhythm. His hands twined
with mine, up by my head. There were no words, but we didn‟t need any. This wasn‟t about reaching a
destination; it was just about being together.

After we were both sated, I lay curled around him, my head in the nook between his shoulder and neck,
and my leg splayed over his. He ran his fingers through my hair and hummed softly, our close contact
meaning the reverberations passed through me. That had possibilities...for another time.

“That was how our first time should have been,” Edward interrupted my thoughts. He lifted my left hand
from his stomach and kissed the ring finger. “Except we‟d be married.”

I gripped his hand in mine. “No, Edward, our first time should have been exactly what it was,” I replied
firmly. “I wouldn‟t change a thing. Tonight was wonderful, but what happened this afternoon was special. I
don‟t know a single girl who could say their first time was as unique as mine – as ours was. We didn‟t have a
chance to get nervous, or build it up to this big thing in our heads. It just happened, and we lived in the
moment, and felt.”

“You might be right,” he replied after a moment, kissing the pads of my fingers one by one.

“I know I‟m right,” I said, trying to swallow a yawn.

“Did I wear you out?” he teased, and I swatted at his chest. “I don‟t know whether to kill Alice or kiss her –
well, get Jasper to kiss her – for dressing you up tonight. She knew exactly what the sight of you in blue satin
would do to me. The color of it against you skin was enough to drive me out of my mind.”

“You‟re going to buy her a Porsche to say thanks.” This time the yawn escaped.

“Sleep now, my love. I‟ve got a lot planned for us tomorrow. It‟ll be a long day.” He hummed me to sleep,
to dreams full of Edward and I in the sunshine.

***
I was woken up by sunlight and something hard pressing insistently into my stomach. I cracked an eye open
and whined as sunshine flashed in making me burrow my head into the rock I was apparently sleeping on.

“Time to get up, Bella, love,” a soft voice murmured in my ear, and I stiffened. My less-than-comfortable
mattress suddenly made sense, along with the mouthwatering smell enveloping me, and the soreness
between my legs.

Pieces of yesterday flickered through my head, and a light blush set in. I was lying on top of a naked
Edward. I was on my front, completely covering him and apparently using him as a giant teddy bear. That
was what was poking me in the belly.

I sheepishly relaxed my grasp and rolled off him, my blush deepening as I brushed against it and he
moaned.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, and he chuckled.

“Don‟t be. It‟s pretty much permanent when you‟re around. Although I did enjoy you squirming around as
you slept; you clung to me like a limpet.”

I peeked at him and his smile was teasing, but underneath it was the relaxed, joyful Edward that had
appeared yesterday. It was nice to know that he hadn‟t disappeared overnight, despite our little hiccup.

Speaking of which...the damage to the other bed was even worse in full light. Edward followed my eye-line
and grimaced. “I‟ll pay for them to buy a new bed.”

I nodded then buried my face into the nearest pillow. “Why am I awake again?”

He trailed his fingers down my back, and I shivered at his touch. “Because the breakfast buffet is only open
for another hour, and you need to eat.”

The mention of food made that, and other human needs, come rushing to the forefront of my mind, and I
couldn‟t ignore them when they made their presence known. “Alright, I‟ll get up,” I grumbled. I almost sat
up then realized that I wasn‟t wearing a stitch of clothing; my undergarments from last night were pooled
beside the bed in a puddle of blue and black. There was no way I was walking to the bathroom in my
birthday suit, even if it was all of six feet away.

Edward obviously sensed my deliberations and rolled his eyes at me. “I‟ve seen all of you already. Why are
you balking now?”

“Because it‟s...different,” I said, and it didn‟t even make sense to me, but it was.

He gave me an indulgent smile and leaned in to press a kiss to my cheek. “Alright. But just so you know,
you are my favorite thing to look at in the whole world. I‟m going to have you naked as often as I can
manage it.”

He climbed out of the bed, and the robe he retrieved was as red as my cheeks. Evidently, he had no
problem walking around as nature intended, because he handed it to me rather than putting it on himself.
Edward standing proudly naked in the morning had me gaping, especially as my gaze came to rest
on...lower things. I had a tumble of memories and future ideas of exactly what I wanted to do with him, but
I crushed them all down. It was easy to act on them in the night, much less so in bright daylight. Apparently,
my cowardice was afraid of the dark and departed with the sunset, but crept back in with the dawn.

I donned the robe and crept to the bathroom. The lock was busted from Edward breaking in last night, and
I turned to look at him archly.

“I‟ll pay for that, too,” he said, grinning.

“You stay out this time,” I said. “I mean it.”

He waited until I‟d got all my more embarrassing tasks out of the way and I was in the shower again. I was
expecting him this time, so I didn‟t scold him when he appeared before me.

“Miss me?” he asked, pulling me into his chest tightly.

“Mmm.”

He was excited again, but I took him at this word and ignored it. I was sore all over, having worked muscles
yesterday I didn‟t know I had, and followed that up by sleeping on a rock. We washed each other, and
when it came to my tender parts, he used a warm washcloth to wipe away the remnants of last night. It
soothed the aches, and the whole shower made me feel more human.

The sunlight wouldn‟t last beyond breakfast, he informed me, and I dressed simply in jeans and a t-shirt.
He was very interested in my choice of underwear, even though I was embarrassed by it – I had chosen a
simple white cotton set, because I had little else, but he assured me that he wanted to see me in it. I got
changed in the bathroom, with him on the outside, to prevent a repeat of last night.

Breakfast was a simple affair, with a mixture of pastries and cereals laid out as a buffet, and I picked at it,
having eaten so much last night. The breakfast room opened onto an inner courtyard, with French doors
letting the light stream in. That confined Edward to the bedroom until the cloud cover rolled in. I suspected
he was taking care of „things‟ in my absence. I ate alone, at a table that looked out onto the mossy flagstones,
and daydreamed of a different courtyard.

When I returned to our room, he was dressed, his outfit matching mine for casualness, although he looked
like he‟d stepped out of a commercial for designer jeans. His t-shirt clung to the planes of his torso, and I
ached to run my hands under the fabric.

“We‟ve got ten minutes before we can leave,” he told me as I pushed the door closed, and I walked over to
sit next to him at the end of the bed. “Alice gave me a detailed weather forecast before she left us.”

“So, what do you have planned for us today?”

“Sightseeing,” he replied, smiling broadly. “I‟ve not been to Florence for a few decades, so I‟m interested to
see if it‟s changed much, and there are a few things I want to share with you...” He rambled on about our
itinerary, and I barely listened. All I focus on was the line made by our touching thighs, and the way his
fingers were linked with mine. To be this close to Edward again was wonderful, and every nerve in my body
sang its happiness. Would this wane? Once we were back in Forks, and back to our routine, would I grow
used to being close to him? Had I ever grown used to being around Edward?
“What are you thinking?” he asked, and I smirked. That was something I‟d have to get used to again – his
constant pestering about my thoughts.

“I was wondering if it‟ll always feel like this,” I admitted. He looked down to our entwined fingers.

“You know that you talk in you sleep, and I love hearing it, because it means you can‟t censor what I get to
hear?” I nodded, indicating he should continue. There was little I could be embarrassed about him hearing
during my somniloquism anymore. “Last night, you couldn‟t get close enough to me – I wasn‟t joking when
I said you were like a limpet. But you kept murmuring.”

His crestfallen expression made me nervous. What had I said?

“You kept whimpering: „Don‟t leave me. Don‟t go, Edward‟.” He looked at me full on, eyes blazing and
intense. “You know I‟m not going to leave you again, don‟t you? I‟m not going anywhere.”

“I do,” I replied, nodding fervently. “I really do.”

His whole body relaxed, and he pulled me into him, halfway onto his lap, so he could kiss me: softly at first,
but growing in urgency. He pulled away before I was ready for him to. “Come on, love. We should go.”

I didn‟t understand the curious expression of the receptionist as we passed through on our way outside,
until we were on the street and Edward bent to whisper in my ear. “They heard us last night. When you
were screaming, they thought that maybe I was killing you.”

I looked up at him to check if he was serious, and apparently he thought it was funnier than I did, because I
was beyond mortified. No wonder my throat was still sore this morning. I hadn‟t been able to control the
sounds I was making, but to know that we‟d been overheard made me want to beg Edward to go get our
bags and check us in somewhere else. Eventually, he would have to explain to them about the broken bed
and bathroom lock, and I had no idea how we would do that. Probably with lots and lots of Euros.

We walked through crooked streets lined with beautiful buildings, and passed through elegant Piazzas.
Every structure was a wonder in its own right, and the amount of work that had gone into minor details like
drains and doorways was astounding. There were dozens of fountains and equal number of grand palazzos,
fighting it out with each other to dominate the streets they stood on. Even where stone was crumbling, it
added to the sense of grandeur. The weather was warm again, despite the clouds, and Edward held my
hand all the way.

Our first stop was IL Duomo, the cathedral, where we spent an hour or more taking in the scale of the
place, and the paintings on the inside of the dome itself. We climbed up dozens of spiral staircases, Edward
carrying me when I started to flag, running up them when he could sense that there was no-one else around.
At the very top of the dome, we stood and looked out of over the panorama of Florence, a tapestry of red
roofs and ragged streets below us.

Edward had to carry me all the way back down, and I was glad when we got out of the narrow confines of
the stairways and into the open air again. Our next stop was the Palazzo Vecchio, which was once the home
of the Medicis, the family that ruled Florence for centuries.

I‟d been right, though, when I thought Edward would distract me. The whole morning, my attention was on
him – the way his muscles and tendons moved when he shifted even a fraction of an inch, the way his hair
flashed like strands of copper whenever light hit it, the familiar way electricity crackled between us when we
touched. It became harder and harder to take notice of the wonders we passed by.

Lunchtime found us at a small cafe, and Edward ordered me a Panini and hot chocolate. It wasn‟t really hot
chocolate weather but I suspected this was another thing he wanted me to try while I could. The liquid was
so viscous you could almost stand a spoon up in it, and it could serve as a meal in itself. He also ordered
me a shot of amaretto to go with it, which was a liqueur that tasted like marzipan, and I shuddered as I
gulped it down, sweet but a shock to the system.

Afterwards, he bought me an ice-cream from a gelateria: a chocolate-dipped cone with three different types
of gelato scooped on. It ruined all other ice-cream for me: the texture was smooth, the taste was
phenomenal, and I moaned in pleasure with every lick I took. I knew from the dark glances he kept
throwing my way that Edward was enjoying my pleasure, and with a jolt I realized exactly what my moans
reminded him of. I tried to silence them, but the ice-cream was so good they were difficult to contain.

He led me down an open-air corridor between buildings, where a long line of people snaked between
pillars. “That‟s the Uffizi,” he said, motioning to the majestic building on our left, imposing in dark stone.
“It‟s the oldest art gallery in the world; full of work by Botticelli, Michelangelo, Da Vinci – all the great
works of the Renaissance masters. I‟ve got us tickets for this afternoon, so we won‟t have to wait in line.” I
smiled in relief – the line was not moving, and it looked people would be standing in it for hours.

Then we were at the end of one of the bridges spanning the River Arno, and a sign to my left told us it was
the Ponte Vecchio. It was as wide as any other street, the paving cracked and worn, and on each side was
one long saffron-colored building, rising two stories high and enclosing the bridge. From where we stood we
could see the straight length of the bridge descending into the typical chaos of Florentine streets on the
other side of the river. It also meant I could see over the side of the bridge: other structures jutted out from
the main building, hanging at haphazard angles and with little support over the water, so each shop could get
a little bit more room.

“It‟s called the „Old Bridge.‟” Edward translated. “It‟s stood in one form or other for centuries, and for
most of those, it‟s been home to Florence‟s jewelers.”

Alice‟s prediction in Volterra floated back to me. This bridge had been our destination all day, even if
Edward had tried to wrap it in a day of sightseeing. He was tense beside me, but he wasn‟t fearing what was
going to happen. He was anticipating it.

“Do you know what it looks like?” I asked.

He knew what I was talking about. “No, I didn‟t see it in Alice‟s vision, she was very careful to keep that
from me. I don‟t know where we‟ll find it either, just that it‟ll be in one of the shops along here.” The bridge
seemed to stretch on forever in front of us, lined with near identical window displays. “I just saw the look on
your face when I slid it onto your finger.” His gaze was far away, but the longing in it made me parcel away
my own apprehension. This was important to him. For once, I would let Edward buy me a gift without
ruining his joy.

I screwed up the napkin that came with the ice-cream, and chucked it into a nearby trashcan. “Shall we?” I
said, offering my hand to him.
He bent from the waist, a courtly gesture that should have been ridiculous coming from a man in jeans, but
he was able to carry it off with style. He kissed the back of my hand, then straightened and slung his arm
around my waist, pulling me to him and leading me into the flow of human traffic.

I‟d been expecting that the window displays would be like gazing into Tiffany‟s on performance-enhancing
drugs, but I was disappointed. Most were piled high with gold - yellow gold, rose gold, green gold - much of
it molded into thick chains. In fact, it was quite...garish. Maybe it was just the effect of it all being heaped
together, but instead of the dazzling displays I‟d expected, where I‟d be unable to choose between one piece
and another, I found myself unable to find one thing I did like. It was all very over-the-top, and not my style
at all.

Edward‟s fingers clasped mine tightly, and when I looked at him, his face reflected my own disappointment.
“I‟ve not been to Florence for a while, but I‟d hoped that that the taste of the jewelers‟ would have
improved. Apparently not,” he sighed. His tension increased, but I relaxed. I‟d thought it would be
impossible to find the perfect ring with an abundance of choice, but the lack of desirable pieces made the
task much less daunting. Anything I did like would stand out a mile.

“Maybe we should check all of the windows then start looking inside the stores?” I suggested. Edward
huffed out a breath.

“That could take all afternoon.”

“It could. But Alice said the ring is on this bridge, and I trust in her.”

He relaxed as well. “So do I.” He kissed my knuckles again, and we kept moving, covering the length of the
bridge in half an hour. Some of the displays were more appealing than others, but there was still so little that
I liked. There was certainly nothing that caught Edward‟s eye, and I was sure he had a very definite idea of
what he wanted.

At the other end of the bridge, we stopped to get a soda for me, and I suggested we take a break to do a
little souvenir shopping. There were stalls clustered around, overflowing with Florence-themed
memorabilia.

“It‟s that,” Edward said, eager to get back to ring-hunting.

“It is, but I‟ve never been outside the U.S. before. I want something to mark the occasion.” I picked out
some fridge magnets, pens and postcards. The last thing to catch my eye was a blue t-shirt with a white
slogan emblazoned on it. Even Edward smirked as he read the words: Ciao Bella.

“I should get an XXL, so I can wear it to bed,” I said as I held it up against me.

Edward whipped it from my hand and replaced it with a Small. “You won‟t be wearing it to bed,” he
growled into my ear. “The only thing you‟ll be wearing to bed from now on is Alice-approved lingerie or
nothing at all.” He paid for my selections as I tried to discreetly fan away my all-over flush.

We were back on the bridge before I knew it, staring down its length to our original starting point. “Do you
think we‟ll have to look in every store?” I asked.

He groaned. “Maybe it would just be easier to commission my own design at Tiffany‟s when we get
home...”
I gripped his hand tighter. “Trust in Alice.”

I picked a little shop on our right at random; the display was less obnoxious than some, and the inside of
the store was petite and cool. We looked in every single glass case, and Edward even had a brief, rapid
conversation in Italian with the woman behind the counter, but we left empty-handed. The next two shops
were much the same. There were a couple of pretty rings – solitaire diamonds on gold bands – but nothing
that I could picture myself wearing for eternity. Every time one caught my eye, I would look to Edward, but
as our gazes met we would simultaneously shake our heads.

Maybe the joy Alice had seen was just down to the fact that we‟d picked a ring and could get off this damn
bridge.

We left the third shop with low spirits, although Edward seemed to be compensating by getting more
physical. I sighed as he scooped my hair into one hand, kissing down my neck as I rested my back against
his chest. Despite the cloud cover, the heat was thick, leaving me gently „glowing‟, as Alice would have put it.
His cool flesh was the perfect antidote.

“That thing is ugly,” I murmured after a moment, bobbing my head in the direction of a thick plait of three
types of gold. I think it was supposed to be a necklace, but could easily have served as industrial chain. It
was nestled between a brooch the size of my fist, and a ring that wasn‟t much smaller. Emblazoned above it
in the window was the word “Antiquariato”, which I presumed meant the shop sold antiques, but the age of
the pieces did not make them any more desirable.

“If this is what they have on display, how bad to do you think it is inside?” Edward asked.

I turned to smile up at him. “Only one way to find out.”

I led him inside the cramped space, which was stuffier than the others, and had the twin scents of incense
and cigar smoke battling it out to inspire nausea. The glass cases rose to the ceiling, crammed with gaudy
items, and an old lady sat on a stool in the corner, giving us the evil eye. I wondered how often people came
in here just to poke fun at the stock.

Edward offered her a warm smile and she visibly softened, although there was still a tense line across her
shoulders, instinctively wary in his presence.

“Look at this,” I whispered, pointing at a carriage clock that was plated in gold an inch thick, with a bulbous
design of leaves and vines covering its surface. Edward grimaced, his back safely to the lady.

“Or this - ” he offered, leading to me another case, where a mishmash of chains and brooches lay tangled
together, the gold so thick it looks like a nest of snakes ready to come alive.

“How about -” I turned to a tray of pendants, but was stopped by Edward tugging me into his side.

“How about this,” he breathed into my ear, one tapered finger indicating what he‟d found.

It stood out because, unlike the rest of the metal around it, it was silver in hue, although the card below it
said that it was, in fact, platinum. The card also gave the date of provenance as circa 1915 – the Edwardian
era.
The band was thin and delicate, until it laced around the circular diamond at the front, intricately set with a
few tiny stones. Light sparkled from the facets on the stone, sending a trail of glitter across the skin of the
hand Edward had pressed against the glass.

It was, of course, perfect.

I was spun, still encased in his arms, so he could have a rapid conversation with the old woman, and in
moments the ring was out of the case and in a velvet box. Edward paid by card and I couldn‟t help wincing
at the number of zeros on the bill. As soon as the box was in his hand, he flashed the woman another
melting smile, and proceeded to whip the ring straight out.

“I know I should probably ask you again, on bended knee, somewhere private and memorable. But I can‟t
wait to see you wear this, love.” He lifted my left hand and kissed each of my fingers, then slid the ring onto
the third finger.

It fit, which shouldn‟t have surprised me, and I stared at my hand for a long moment. It didn‟t seem out of
place: in fact, it seemed very right. This ring would be there for eternity. As long as Edward and I existed, I
would wear this band of metal.

I looked up at him, and he was wearing that same expression of open exultation as he had when he first
proposed.

“I love that you are wearing my ring,” he said huskily. His fingers stroked circles on my lower back. “I love
it. It‟s...” He debated for a moment, and I waited, holding my breath. “It‟s sexy,” he finished finally, and
knocked the breath out of me with a brief but passionate kiss. I panted against him after he pulled away.
“You have no idea -” I gazed up at him, and that familiar cloud had descended, darkening his eyes and
sending lava pulsing through my veins. He bent to whisper directly into my ear.

“We need to get back to the hotel. Now.”

Edward led me off the bridge and through a maze of twisty streets at breakneck pace, muttering under his
breath when we had to stop for traffic, or the crush of people slowed us down. As we passed the line outside
the Uffizi, I realized our tickets would probably go to waste. But if I had the choice: Renaissance masters, or
Edward? I would choose Edward every time.

As the hotel room door was shut and locked behind me, I expected him to pounce as he had last night, but
instead he released my hand and took a step back, while I leaned against the wall and caught my breath. I
could see the wheels turning in his head; knew he was planning whatever would come next in exquisite
detail.

Despite the way that thought made my heart pound, despite everything we‟d done yesterday, I was suddenly
shy. It was easy to act on instinct when adrenaline was high. It was easy to act seductive when the lights were
low. But in the middle of the afternoon, without the threat of imminent danger, I was self-conscious and
awkward. I really didn‟t know what I was doing, and although I knew Edward only had the same amount of
experience as me, he seemed so confident in his actions.

“Hey.” His hands were suddenly cupping my face, his forehead against mine and his breath whispering over
my skin. “What are you thinking that‟s making you so pensive?”

I shrugged and looked down. “Nothing. It‟s not important.”


He lifted my chin to face him again. “Bella, whatever you‟re thinking is always important to me.”

I tucked my lower lip between my teeth, but he bent to kiss me, sucking softly until my lip was between his.
“Please, tell me.”

“It‟s not fair when you do that,” I muttered.

“Bella,” he warned, catching my gaze and holding it.

“Fine.” I let out a sigh. “I was just thinking how...comfortable you are with all of this. You seem to know
what you‟re doing, which I guess is down to ninety years of listening to people‟s thoughts, and you have
absolutely no problem with any of it. But I‟m not quite so easy with it all. I‟m worried that maybe I‟ll do
something wrong, or something you won‟t like, and I‟m nervous about being naked in front of you again.
I‟m not in satin, it‟s just cotton, and I feel so unglamorous and plain next to you and...” I trailed off, and he
paused to make sure I‟d finished rambling before he responded.

“Bella, it‟s true that I‟m quite comfortable with this. I have no problem with being naked around you
because I know you like seeing me that way, and I also know that, so far, when I‟ve touched you, you‟ve
liked that too. But I understand that you feel the way you do. You have insecurities, and believe me when I
say that I have plenty of my own. I have to ask though: when you‟ve touched me, or been undressed in front
of me, have I shown anything less than utter delight?”

“No,” I replied, trying not to sound petulant.

“Exactly. Because that‟s what I feel when I have you in my arms. I believe this is an extension of what you‟re
always telling me – that you feel inferior next to me, and that you don‟t deserve me. All I can tell you is that
you have it so wrong, Bella. You are too good for me. I will spend the rest of eternity showing you that, in
every way I can, and my plans for that include thoroughly worshipping your body.

“I have just one thing that I have to ask you, love.” I nodded for him to continue, as his smoldering
expression gave way to a hint of vulnerability. “Do you want to do this? Because if you don‟t, then we
won‟t.”

I gasped, and wrapped my arms around his neck. “I do. I really do,” I assured him, trying to pour all my
want into my expression.

The familiar shadow slid across his eyes. “Then I shall start that worship now.”

His kiss was intense but lingering, a slow burn that made me whimper and tremble against him, held tight by
his arms around me, his fingers splayed across my skin. I was aware of each one, the nerves under them
singing with anticipation.

He broke the kiss to lead me to the unbroken bed, sliding one hand beneath the fabric of my t-shirt to
stroke my back, trailing up my spine and down, causing me to shiver and falter. The t-shirt was over my
head and on the floor in an instant, leaving me in only the bra from the waist up. He leaned back so he
could look at me properly, and his expression sent a rush of wetness between my legs. He took a deep
breath, scenting me, and moved close again.

“No matter what you are wearing, never doubt that you are lovely. Never doubt the effect you have on me.”
I could feel that effect, pressing hard against my thigh.
My jeans were quickly discarded, and I found myself propped up on my elbows at the end of the bed, with
my legs dangling over the edge. Edward stood before me, still fully clothed. I wanted to tell him how unfair
that was, but he leaned down to cover me, resting on his own elbows, his face before mine. We almost
touched everywhere, with scant space between us that electricity flickered through.

“You might want to lie back,” he said, smiling devilishly. “This will take a while.” And indeed it did: he took
his time kissing me as I lay prone, while his hands wandered down my arms, stroking across my belly and
hips, brushing across my breasts but not quite touching, ghosting over the bare skin of my thighs but not
going as high as I needed him to.

Every time I broke the kiss the gasp for air, he would give me mere moments to breathe before he
reclaimed my lips. I was left a writhing, panting, moaning creature on the bed beneath him.

Finally, he pulled away from the kiss of his own accord. “Are you still thinking about how uncomfortable
you feel?”

“No,” I moaned between pants. “I‟m…not…thinking…at all.”

“Good.” He reached beneath me to unclasp my bra and rather than whipping the fabric away, he slid the
straps down my arms unearthly slow, his gaze never leaving mine. White flashed over the edge of the bed as
he discarded it, then he looked down very deliberately, and let me see in his face how much my body
excited him.

He took hold of my hands, interlacing our fingers then moved one pair of clasped hands to my left breast,
sliding up from my hip, across my ribs to the fullness, so we both cupped me. He massaged me, controlling
our twin movements, occasionally ghosting a thumb over my nipple.

He let go of my other hand for a moment, just long enough to rip the cloth from my hips, and then I was
bare to him. He lifted my right leg so it came to rest on the bed, foot flat on the sheets, and that left him
cradled between my legs. Then he re-clasped our hands, and again moved them very deliberately down my
stomach, over hip, over my thigh, and then both of our index fingers touched me.

The contrast of our skin – his cold and smooth, mine warm and pliant, made me jerk, but he very
deliberately controlled the movement of our hands. I‟d never touched myself in this way, and the thought
that it was Edward making me do this made my head spin. Our fingers slid through my wetness to the little
bundle of nerves he‟d so expertly touched yesterday, circling round and round with the gentlest pressure.
All the while, our hands kept moving on my breast.

My climax was unexpected – I hadn‟t felt the pressure building, I was just suddenly tumbling into pleasure,
the world rippling around me, blowing apart and settling back together.

Edward released both of my hands and removed the pressure, which for the moment was a little too
intense. Instead, he slowly slid a finger into me, so slowly I felt every millimeter along my front wall. At
every place that made me squirm, he stopped to explore, adjusting the pressure and rhythm to find the
exact combination to bring me to the edge, before he would pull back to continue on his exploration.

If he‟d been human I‟d have scratched his back to bloody ribbons, but as it was, he was unscathed, and
continued single-minded in his task.
He brought me to climax a second and third time before shucking his own clothes and climbing off the bed,
returning to a standing position between my legs.

“You don‟t know what a sight you are, laying there like that,” he told me. “I love seeing you laid out beneath
me...” My breath hitched as he lifted my legs, spreading them out wide so they formed a deep „v‟,
perpendicular to my torso, his arms cradled beneath my thighs to keep them in place. He brushed against
me, firm and unyielding. If I answered him, it was nonsensical, but if I had the words I‟d have told him how
beautiful he was above, every tendon taut and every inch of skin enticing.

He sank into me as slowly as he had with his finger, and even though this was now the fourth time we‟d
been together, the sensation of him stretching me was still a little overwhelming. He waited for me, and
leaned down to kiss me softly before moving. Lying as I was, he had complete control, but I didn‟t feel
powerless; not with the way his eyes roamed over me and the tenderness he wore. Each thrust of his hips
was insistent but he was keeping his full power leashed: this was only a fraction of what he was capable of. It
was merely a prelude.

“Bella, love,” he said, his voice gritty with tension. “Turn your head.”

I raised an eyebrow in question but he broke his languorous rhythm to give several sharp, fast thrusts, and
when I‟d finished writhing, I complied.

The mirror. I‟d completely forgotten about its presence, since I‟d seen myself in it last night as I stripped for
him. It was opposite the bed, and large enough that it reflected us in our entirety, showing Edward as his
hips flexed into...well, was that me? The girl on the bed looked sort of like me, but I‟d never seen that
languid desire on my face. Her hair pooled behind her in a dark wing across the covers, her lips were red
and full, and a thin sheen covered her skin. She...I...looked seductive. Tempting.

Our gazes caught in the mirror, and he raised his eyebrows at me. I nodded to answer him. Yes, I get it
now.

He shifted my legs suddenly, so my ankles met behind his neck, my calves over his shoulders, and
he bent at the waist to make the angle easier. Oh, this was...deep. Very deep. It felt like I should be
able to taste him, but it was far from uncomfortable. I started moving, lifting my hips to meet his,
grinding against him. He‟d loosened the reins on his strength a little, and with each thrust a sound
SMACK reverberated through the room.

My fourth climax wasn‟t as unexpected as the first, but it caused Edward to very suddenly pick up the pace,
and I could no longer keep up with him. He moved me once again, unwrapping my legs and pulling my feet
so they rested flat on his chest, my knees bent together and pulled towards my own chest. I fisted the sheets
beside me and looked back at the mirror, where our gazes locked again, his expression almost feral. He was
chanting “Bella” over and over under his breath.

“Please tell me you‟re ready,” he pleaded. “I‟m - not much longer – now...”

“Yes,” I hissed. “Just keep...oh!”

I exploded around him, bucking and clenching violently, and screaming loud enough to scare the other
guests again. He followed quickly, uttering a guttural rendition of my name before collapsing onto the bed
over me, resting on his elbows and knees, still within me.
Although he didn‟t really need to rest or catch his breath, physically, it still took him several minutes to
move again. I relaxed beneath him, seemingly boneless.

“That was...” he mumbled against my collarbone, where his head had come to rest.

“Yeah,” was my stellar response. I was still waiting for my vocabulary to return, along with the rest of my
faculties.

He shifted us to the head of the bed, wrapping the sheet around us and me around him, so I was in much
the same position as when I woke this morning.

“So, do you get it now? Do you understand how much I love you; how much I desire you?”

“I do.” I thought of the way our eyes met in the mirror and my stomach clenched. It was a shame that I
didn‟t have the energy for another round, not just yet.

“I‟m buying a mirror for my room in Forks,” he informed me. “I have lots of plans that involve mirrors
now.”

“S‟good,” I muttered thickly. “Five times. Wow.”

“Mmm.” His smile was very, very smug.

Another thought occurred to me. “But you only – you know – once. That doesn‟t seem fair.”

He cocked an eyebrow at me. “It‟s about quality, not quantity.”

“Well, I didn‟t have any problems with either, so that still doesn‟t make it fair.”

He bent his head to kiss me, our lips barely brushing and tongues barely grazing. “Believe me, Bella, I don‟t
feel cheated at all. I would gladly keep you here all day, proving to you just how many times I am capable of
climaxing, but you need feeding, and you need to rest.”

I pouted at him, especially since he was hard again and it seemed such a shame for it to go to waste. He
never got tired, so if he did all the work…

“Bella, love, when you‟ve eaten, believe me that I will drag you back and ravish you...again.”

“Do you think the bed will last the night this time?”

He looked thoughtful for a moment. “I think so. Not all of my plans involve the bed.”

And he left me hanging to get dressed.

When I stayed in that hotel room, I did not a) break a bed or b) christen the shower. Although one day I
hope to attempt both of those things with Rob.
I have queued to get into the Uffizi for three hours, but I brought a book because I knew there‟d be a long
wait, and it was free entry on that day (hence the long line!). And Italian ice-cream will ruin all other kinds for you – yes, even Ben &
Jerry‟s.

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