This is the last chapter, sorry but there is a lemon for you all!! Hope you enjoy, it is my first one so please be kind! I love any and all reviews!!

I don't own Twilight!! :(

Bella's POV:

"Rose, I have to wear a bra!" I exclaimed for what felt like the thousandth time.

"But you can see it under the silk. It looks weird. Take it off." Rosalie said, snapping her fingers at me.

"What if it's really cold in there and I…get, you know…poppers?" I emphasized the last word by sticking my pointer fingers straight out in front of my boobs. Rosalie held out a roll of duct tape in response.

Oh, hell no. "Alice!" I screamed, batting away Rosalie's hand when she tried to get at my bra hook.

"What?" Alice yelled from the bathroom down the hall.

"Rose is trying to take off my bra!" I screamed back, clutching my chest protectively.

"Good, you don't want to be fiddling with it all night." Alice said dispassionately.

"Are you serious?" I whined.

Alice threw open the door with a sharp whack. "Bella, you can either do this the easy way, or we'll do it for you the hard way." The sound of Rosalie pulling on the duct tape made me jump. Alice folded her arms and tapped her foot impatiently until I sighed in defeat.

An hour later, feeling sufficiently unsupported, I allowed Alice to apply a pound of hairspray to the curls falling down my back.

"Perfect!" She declared. "Now try not to sweat too much or your hair is going to lose all of this wonderful body that was only accomplished after forty-five minutes of tedious curling done by yours truly."

"No problem, Alice, I'll just turn off my sweat glands." I stood up and swayed slightly on the plush carpet of Alice's room in my four-inch heels. "You know, it won't matter how much I'm sweating if I fall and break my neck before we even get there."

"You look fabulous, Bells." Alice alleged and I smiled at her.

"I just hope Edward doesn't molest you in the back of the limo." Rosalie said from her perch on Alice's bed.

Rosalie had been tougher in forgiving me than Alice. Alice's natural nurturing side took over, whereas Rosalie's unrelenting tendency to dig her heels in held firm in the face of my confession. Not until the excitement associated with the prospect of the perfect prom night fell upon us did she at last return to the old, sarcastically brutal Rosie that I knew and loved.

"That doesn't sound so bad to me." I said with a devilish smile at both of them.

"So it's true then?" Alice asked, instead of making the gag face I had been provoking for.

"What's true?" I asked while Rosalie threw her head back in senseless laughter.

"That you and Edward have yet to consummate your passion for each other." I gaped at Alice's words, hanging in the air between the three of us like a challenge. The two of them ogled at me with shameless curiosity.

"No way are we talking about this right now. We are three beautiful, mature women who are dressed to the nines for the approaching evening. It is completely inappropriate to speak of such smutty things right now." I told them firmly with a decisive nod.

"All that means is that you have nothing exciting to tell us." Rosalie was officially more interested in her manicure. Mission accomplished.

"I bet you'll have something to tell us tomorrow." Alice said, winking at me wickedly.

"Well I won't if we don't leave soon. I bet Emmet's already asleep downstairs."

"Please, I'm sure he's already plastered and couldn't care less if we ever make it to prom." Rosalie said while she gathered up the red dress with the plunging neck-line that was doing a remarkable job of making me and Alice feel insignificant to stand next to her.

"Some things never change." I sympathized to Alice when she gave herself a pitying inspection after Rosalie stood to her full height and positively towered over us.

"What?" Rosalie fathomed, swinging her silky blonde tresses over her shoulder.

"You look hot." I told her flatly.

"Thanks, I think we'll all turn heads tonight."

"Let's go get our guys before they give themselves alcohol poisoning." Alice said, leading the way to the door and I fell into step behind Rosalie.

We made our way to the staircase, in horrible debutante, coming-out fashion. I felt somewhat ridiculous in the dress Alice had approved of, but I had to admit she had done well. The black satin didn't wash me out, the neck-line gave an impressive allusion of cleavage, and the silt that reached up to my mid-thigh made my legs look miles long. My make-up was understated, and yet my eyes were smoky, my lips pouty and skin glowing. I was the image of Meredith Grey a la second season finale.

Not that any of this mattered much; I didn't need make-up or an overly designed dress for Edward to think I looked beautiful. And after all, that night was all for Edward's benefit. I would have been happy to spend that Saturday night curled up on the couch with Edward and a bowl of popcorn for the NCIS marathon. But after all I had put him through a night of dancing in painful heels that squeezed my toes together was hardly a lot for him to ask of me.

Hence the embarrassing parade of our assets to the gentlemen below. Amid the catcalls and whistles, I was met with glowing awe from Edward's eyes. I slinked down the stairs, made vague references to how handsome Jasper and Emmet looked in their tuxes, and finally reached Edward, leaning languidly against the mantle of the glowing fireplace. He looked better than James Bond, black vest clad over traditional white shirt, no tie and dirty old converse shoes; the most conventional he was willing to look at the grandest of high school traditions. I twirled slowly around in front of him, silently asking for approval and hopefully bountiful compliments.

"Well, what do you think?" I asked when he did nothing but smile at me.

"Come here." He said in the softest whisper, beckoning me forward with his finger. I inched closer and he put a very firm grip on my waist. "You're sexy." He slurred. The smell of vodka on his breath was overwhelming.

"You're drunk." I said in mock annoyance.

"Nope." He shook his head wobbly from side to side and plastered a lazy grin on his face. All I could do was laugh; he looked cute all sluggish.

"Let's go before you all pass out." I said, tugging him to the front door. Alice and Rosalie were already dragging their boyfriends out to the limo that was waiting. We piled them inside, where more drinking soon began to commence.

By the time we were dropped off in front of the Rose, the finest hotel in all of Forks, we were all perfectly smashed. No one was throwing up and we were all warm and fuzzy around the edges, which could only help my dancing skills.

"I can't believe how well you're doing." Edward drawled in my ear during a particularly gooey slow-dance. His hands had found a permanent resting place on my very lower back, my fingers folded themselves in and out of his tresses and we gazed dreamily into each other's eyes. Yes, we had become that couple; the one everyone hates based on the 'they're-cuter-than-everyone-else-on-the-planet' principle. Judging from the many awed stares and whisperings we were attracting, we would most certainly rank among Fork's hottest in the after-prom debriefings.

"I think that last tequila shooter actually improved my footwork." I said while nearly stumbling over Edward's shoe.

"That doesn't really make sense, but you look so pleased with yourself that I won't press the issue." He said before dipping his mouth to my neck.

Edward was nothing but smiles and kisses that night. Whenever we weren't speaking, his lips ended up somewhere on my bare skin. I kept silently yearning to end the night early and head upstairs to the extremely empty suite for two that waited patiently for us. But I wouldn't go until Edward was ready; if he wanted to dance with me until my toes were black, blue, and protesting for amputation I would certainly oblige.

We watched in dutiful pride as Emmet and Rosalie were crowned Prom King and Queen. Rose appeared merely annoyed by all the bright lights of the stage while Emmet thrived in front of a live and admiring audience. He was, to the immense disapproval of every student, removed forcibly from the stage after mooning the clump of teachers gathered off to the side. He grumbled about no one in this town having a decent sense of humor, spiked the punch, then threw Rose over his shoulder and carried her up the stairs in pursuit of their own private room. Alice and Jasper seemed eager to follow their lead and I wholeheartedly agreed in the direction the night was pursuing. We parted ways at the elevator, vowing to see everyone in the morning for the complimentary free breakfast the hotel offered. Emmet seemed more thrilled about that than being crowned King.

Edward and I walked leisurely to our room, hand in hand, cheap party favor bags in tow. The anticipation of what would surely transpire behind the rapidly approaching soon-to-be closed doors had me reeling for a moment. All declarations of love had been made, all hurtful actions, statements apologized for and forgiven. One thing remained unresolved; sexual chemistry we certainly had, but the actual physical act was something else entirely.

After the cliff-jumping-incident, we had spent countless, sometimes most unpleasing, hours delving into each other's past. Neither of us were strangers to sex, which I was totally cool with; I was more worried about the unavoidable comparison of sex with me verses sex with sexy models from L.A., the land of the beautiful. I had never been one for stereotypes, but I'd seen enough magazines to know that I didn't want to compete against anyone that came from the pages of Vogue. Edward had told me, and been decent enough to not look pleased with himself, that two of his previous sexual partners had in fact been models, not those tacky ones that do ads for JC Penny either; real models with agents and runway shows and portfolios and high cheekbones. I wasn't overly thrilled by that information, but hadn't been shocked by it either. I was well aware of how desired my boyfriend was by other women.

I knew sex was supposed to be different when love was involved and Edward had convinced me thoroughly that he had not been in love with anyone before me. Never the less, I still wanted to be good in the sack and finally, the test was upon me.

When the weak morning light seeped into the room and I looked up into Edward's sleepy bedroom eyes and his elated smile, I silently gave myself an A++ for the night's performance.

Edward's POV:

The room basically begged for sex. The huge silk-covered bed beckoned us further inside, promising to provide support for all of the erotic situations that were running rampant in my extremely horny brain. There were candles, of course, and the roses and champagne that I had requested. Bella gave a giggle and made a beeline for the champagne.

"You certainly know how to treat your lady friends." She filled her glass to the top and turned to me. "Have a drink with me." It wasn't a request. I moved toward her and took the glass that she had filled for me.

"I wouldn't exactly call you a friend, Belle." I drained my glass in one gulp and she sipped on hers, holding it delicately between her slender fingers.

"What would you call me?" Her eyes were smoldering as she licked her lips.

"Love of my life." I said with my best impish grin.

"Hmm, good answer." She bit her lip.

"Yeah…?"

"Yes." She nodded.

"I have something for you." I set my drink down and put my hands in my pockets.

"Don't you think the room and…you…are enough?" She asked, smirking.

"Hardly." I pulled out a velvet box. Her eyes popped and mouth fell slack.

"If you propose to me at the Forks high school prom, I'll say no." She warned me harshly and set down her glass.

"Just fucking open it." I ordered playfully.

"Aww, that's so romantic." She deadpanned then took the box from me and when she opened it, her eyes popped again. "It's beautiful." She whispered breathily.

"See that's my birthstone and your birthstone." I explained while pointing out first the diamond stones that sat on either side of the square-cut emerald on a delicate white-gold band. "But don't be concerned, I'm not proposing." I said with a wink.

"I love it." She professed as I slipped it on the ring finger of her right hand. "Did you have this made?"

"Yeah, but uh…it's no big deal." She gazed at the ring adoringly before looking up at me.

"You didn't have to do this. You were already going to get laid." She pulled me toward her and started to unbutton my vest.

"I just wanted to cover my bases in case it wasn't a slam dunk." I pushed her hair over her shoulder.

"No sports references before sex." She threw the vest to the floor carelessly.

"Sorry, won't happen again." She kissed me, tugging gently on the buttons of my shirt.

I ran my hands down her back and slipped one under the fabric of her dress. I gave a mental shout-out of thanks to Alice and Rosalie when I discovered that she was in fact, bra-less. I slipped the straps off of her shoulders and the dress fell like water to the floor. I led her to the bed and she followed eagerly, laying down first before I discarded my shirt to the floor with the vest, crawled over her and kissed her again. The luscious taste of her skin spurred me on as I licked and sucked fervently over her neck, collarbones, breasts…

She gasped wildly and thrust her hips into me when I took her breasts into my hands and mouth, sucking and pinching gently on her hardened nipples. She spread her legs and I dropped my hand to her panties, already wet from her arousal. I stroked her lightly, listening to her breathing become labored before pulling the intrusive fabric away and sliding a finger inside. She was so hot and wet; my dick twitched painfully in the anticipation. Her hands were at my belt then and soon my pants and boxers joined the rest of the forgotten clothes on the floor.

Her legs trembled as I began to kiss her inner thigh. She sighed angrily when I barely grazed my tongue over her clit. I held her writhing hips in place before I dipped my tongue completely between her slick folds. I sucked on her heatedly, bathing in the sound of her desperate moans. I peeked at her face, head thrown back in ecstasy, hair splayed wildly over the pillows. I swallowed and licked my lips, the best fucking thing I'd ever tasted. I slid back up her body, licking between her breasts, plunging my tongue into her open mouth, letting her taste herself on me.

Everything had turned sweaty and fucking dreamy. Every move we made was so natural and right; we fit together flawlessly. When I finally slid into her completely, she panted breathlessly something that sounded like "fuck" and "Edward" combined: Fuckward. I drove into her harder, faster, so good, push pull, bringing us both closer, harder, close, faster, very close.

I came deep inside of her once she fell over the edge. She milked my cock and I collapsed on top of her, both of us heaving in the after throes of sexual ecstasy. I pulled out and rolled off of her, exhausted and fucking sweaty. So was she; her hair was in total disarray, a few stray strands stuck to her glistening neck and chest. I brushed gentle fingers over her forehead and she closed her eyes, a glorified smile sweeping across her face.

I pulled Bella to my side, encircling her in my arms. She snuggled onto my chest, placing gentle kisses over my scorching skin. I pulled my fingers through her hair, caressed her lower back gently. She let out a relieved, satisfied sigh.

"We should do that again." She implored.

In the morning I couldn't move. I was fucking dehydrated, completely spent. Bella stirred and looked up at me, all sleepy and happy. I looked into her eyes and saw our lives stretch out in front of us. I know, how fucking sappy of me but I couldn't help it. I was one blissful bastard. I saw thousands of mornings, waking up next to her, worn-out from the night before. Our futures tangled together, intrinsically linked to each other.

Bella raised her hand and cupped my cheek. "What is it?" She asked me, her voice husky from fatigue.

I smiled and shrugged. "I love you."

"I love you, too."