Remember
Finally some more writing. First attempt at an explicit (of sorts) scene. :D
It was so much fun, it totally tickles my pickle.
They sat miles apart, only connected by the same train of thought in a place where they could be alone, if only for a while.
It was only now the impact of what had happened had hit them. After that first kiss, they both understood what they were getting themselves into, that there could well be dire consequences, but they couldn’t bring themselves to care. Their senses were alive and buzzing as they replayed each touch, smell and caress with great clarity, they let the images roll for what could be the only time they had a chance to.
It was there that Bella saw something other than the compassion that Carlisle was most famous for, she saw an animalistic yearning and an intense determination in his eyes. It was there that Bella was no longer considered a porcelain doll, the fragile human; she was considered equal with a desire being quenched without mercy.
Carlisle used the rare time alone to focus on the time he spent with the brunette beauty. He thought of how her heavy breathing brushed under his ear, how the scent of freesia intensified as her heart leapt into fifth gear, how she shuddered as he used the tip of his tongue to sweep away a bead of sweat that had rolled into the valley between her breasts. He placed a hand flat against his chest, just above his heart, feeling where Bella had pressed her body up against him as she arched into him. His cool hand felt nothing like the warmth of her petite body and with the absence of that warmth, he was lonely.
Bella looked up at the plain white ceiling, a blank canvas. Her imagination turned the blank canvas into her own masterpiece; a masterpiece with blonde hair and loving eyes, who smiled when he walked past. An entire scene was painted onto the ceiling with the images burned in her memory.
She thought of how his hair that was usually casually combed back, in complete disarray from her slender fingers tangling in his short locks, how the feather light touches along the inside of her thigh left a raging fire in its wake, how she could feel the ghost of his torso in between her legs from when she had wrapped herself around him. She ran the pad of her thumb over the broken fingernails on the same hand from scraping them down his marble back.
“This can’t be real,” she’d said. Above breathy moans and the sound of skin on granite, other than those four words there was silence. His only answer was to push himself deeper, telling her that it was as real as it could possibly get.
Though they were alone, the image of tangling limbs kept them company. Everything about the family dynamic would change if they found out; The time alone made all the more important and special by the knowledge that after tomorrow, they would remain forever forbidden to remember, terrified to forget.
Perhaps... that was the worst consequence of all.
It was so much fun, it totally tickles my pickle.
They sat miles apart, only connected by the same train of thought in a place where they could be alone, if only for a while.
It was only now the impact of what had happened had hit them. After that first kiss, they both understood what they were getting themselves into, that there could well be dire consequences, but they couldn’t bring themselves to care. Their senses were alive and buzzing as they replayed each touch, smell and caress with great clarity, they let the images roll for what could be the only time they had a chance to.
It was there that Bella saw something other than the compassion that Carlisle was most famous for, she saw an animalistic yearning and an intense determination in his eyes. It was there that Bella was no longer considered a porcelain doll, the fragile human; she was considered equal with a desire being quenched without mercy.
Carlisle used the rare time alone to focus on the time he spent with the brunette beauty. He thought of how her heavy breathing brushed under his ear, how the scent of freesia intensified as her heart leapt into fifth gear, how she shuddered as he used the tip of his tongue to sweep away a bead of sweat that had rolled into the valley between her breasts. He placed a hand flat against his chest, just above his heart, feeling where Bella had pressed her body up against him as she arched into him. His cool hand felt nothing like the warmth of her petite body and with the absence of that warmth, he was lonely.
Bella looked up at the plain white ceiling, a blank canvas. Her imagination turned the blank canvas into her own masterpiece; a masterpiece with blonde hair and loving eyes, who smiled when he walked past. An entire scene was painted onto the ceiling with the images burned in her memory.
She thought of how his hair that was usually casually combed back, in complete disarray from her slender fingers tangling in his short locks, how the feather light touches along the inside of her thigh left a raging fire in its wake, how she could feel the ghost of his torso in between her legs from when she had wrapped herself around him. She ran the pad of her thumb over the broken fingernails on the same hand from scraping them down his marble back.
“This can’t be real,” she’d said. Above breathy moans and the sound of skin on granite, other than those four words there was silence. His only answer was to push himself deeper, telling her that it was as real as it could possibly get.
Though they were alone, the image of tangling limbs kept them company. Everything about the family dynamic would change if they found out; The time alone made all the more important and special by the knowledge that after tomorrow, they would remain forever forbidden to remember, terrified to forget.
Perhaps... that was the worst consequence of all.