“You’re upset because you want me to make love to you?” he asked, sitting on his knees in front of me.
I looked down at him, biting my lip and nodding. “I feel horrible,” I whispered, tears falling down my cheeks unabated.
“Bella, don’t feel bad,” he said as he took my face in his large, warm hands. “I am trying to change. However, it doesn’t negate the fact that I do want you. A lot. I don’t want our relationship to be something physical.”
“I know. That’s why I feel so horribly. I’m turning into the female version of what you were,” I grumbled.
“Yeah, how many people have you fucked since your ex-fiancé unceremoniously dumped you at the altar?” Edward asked.
“The physical act of fucking, none. Oral sex and the use of fingers, um, two and a half each?” I said, fussing with my hair.
He chuckled. “A half?”
“I kind of darted in the middle of something right now. That’s the ‘half,’” I shrugged. I scrubbed my face and dropped my gaze to Edward’s bare chest.
“Gorgeous girl, I want to make love to you. Just give me more time,” he said as he kissed my cheek. Then, the other cheek. He finally finished with brushing his lips across mine. “When I do make love to you, I want to be 100% certain that you will be the last woman I ever make love to. Let me rephrase that, you will be the last woman I ever make love to, but I want it to be special. I do not want to have a ‘quick fuck’ or have sex as a result of being drunk or horny. Make sense?”
“Yeah. I’m sorry, though, for making you uncomfortable,” I sighed. “I’ll behave. I promise.”