Dine&Dash Chap12 (Part 4)

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, quotes, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners and are simply used under 'fair use'. The original characters and plot are the property of the KittyTylz author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement intended. This story is written for the legally recognized adult population. 

Dine and Dash

*~*~* Chapter Twelve - "Echoes of Demons" *~*~*

‘With a fierce action of her hand, as if she sprinkled hatred on the ground, and with it devoted those who were standing there to destruction, she looked up once at the black sky, and strode out into the wild night.’ (Charles Dickens)

Too soon for my liking, a thunderclap breaks my sleep. I feel the drowsiness taking over again but I fight it when I feel him absentmindedly stroke my hair. I crack them open and notice the room is dark.

"Did I hurt you?"

I must be hearing things.

"What?" I ask incredulously, my voice full of sleep as I turn to look at him, but my eyes haven't adjusted to the darkness yet. I sit up a little, squinting to get a read on his face. My legs rejoice in the low humming between them. It's a little uncomfortable but not too bad. Sex is my new favorite exercise. Enjoyable as it is... Yes, it's exercise, it made me ridiculously tired so going back to sleep is a must for me.

"Before," he says, "did I hur—"

"I know what you're asking," I cut him off flabbergasted. He's crazy if he thinks he's taking this from me. "Edward, you didn't break me," I reaffirm. "I loved it… I love—ed  that with you, about you…" I'm sleepy and God, when I'm sleepy I apparently have no filter. I can hear his even breathing in the darkness and I thank every deity there is that I was getting too drowsy to speak, before I continued to tell him something huge that I wasn't ready for.

He kisses my temple tenderly. "You're bruised." His fingers touch my thigh where he held me.

Huh?  I straighten my legs and wince slightly at the pretty ache in my core. As I lick my lips, I can practically hear him frown and I know that he can see me easily in this lack of light.

Because the next thing he says is "Fuck." It's edged in a way that tells me he's pissed at himself.

Then it starts to make sense.

"Edward, I bruise easily!"

It's true too. That's why I'm so good at applying cover up, my skin bruises quick. And my wince was due to the pain in my cooter! Not my legs! Between them! My mind corrects, though I opt not to tell him that, because from the way he took me, I'm sure he wasn't looking to introduce me to that kind of sex right after I lost my V card. He seemed angry and it was as if he was trying to expel it by making sure I was real, it was almost like he was trying to  keep me  real. Like he thought I was going to disappear.

I'm too drowsy to be able to figure it out now. I trail my fingers up his jaw line, feeling the stubble scratching the pads deliciously. Nothing eases the tension, even though I feel his eyes close when I get to them. He lets out a heavy harsh breath through his nose, it tickles my inner wrist and I can't help but think that I'm missing something important.

"How long you been up?" I murmur into the darkness, knowing he can see me when he opens his eyes.

"Not long," he answers.

"Well, go back to sleep." I shove on his chest. "You didn't hurt me."

He lets me push him back fully, so I can crawl onto his chest and sleep on my side against the warm, hard, naked muscles of his body while he wraps his arms around my far tinier frame, holding me like I'm something profoundly precious. I nuzzle myself into him.

My lethargy in the driving seat, I  keep on talking. "I want a repeat performance tomorrow," I feel his chest vibrate, "and Wednesday." I mumble again, "and Labor Day... and Christmas Day... and every day..."

When I'm awake, I'm going to remind myself to  never  speak when I'm sleepy.

~.~.~D&D~.~.~

The next time I woke, it was at a far more reasonable hour. Edward was already up and remained all kinds of broody. Whatever had pissed him off earlier on still hadn't dissipated.

Maybe it had been because I didn't answer about Renee after the strange behavior I exhibited while having the nightmare. I mean, I can only imagine what I looked like when he woke me up this morning. I could still remember the burning in my eyes from the tears I'd unwittingly cried through my sleep.

But still, I thought he'd decided to respect my privacy or something along those lines? In fact I was  certain  of it. I  knew  Edward  that  well, at least, right? Right. And for that reason, none of  this  made any sense. Why was he so angry?

It is with these 'happy' thoughts that I stand in his shower. The spraying hot water collects and cascades down my sated body, easing my muscles, however it's the new revelations that are actually washing over me. With warm steam surrounding me, I finally admit to my conscious self that a part of me missed Renee. A part of me reveled in the fact that I'd heard her voice and a part of my heart broke because this Renee was nothing but a dream. Part of me missed her even if she wanted to hurt me in it. It was the novelty of just having a mother, even if it was a nightmare.  How pathetic Bella. You had to dream up a mother.

I drag my hand across my face, swiping away the water and rubbing at my cheeks, as I take a deep breath, thinking. I analyze the changes in the dream and their possible triggers, such notable changes after so many years of this recurring nightmare.

Jake.  I'd heard Jake's words in the dream saying it was okay to miss her. That would explain  why  I actually dreamed her up so vividly. It was like I was given the green light that I had no idea I'd been waiting for all this time. Someone thought it was okay for me to miss her. I groan when something else occurs to me, why didn't the nightmare change on the actual day Jake spoke them to me at the beach? Why had it taken so long for it to come to pass in the dream?

I shudder at the assailing thoughts that question is met with.  Edward.  I opened my mind to it because he was with me last night.

Great!

I'm a crazy as fuck mess who needed someone to point out to me that I missed Renee and say it was okay to feel that way. Then  I needed someone physically anchoring me in reality so my subconscious could admit to myself for the first time that I missed her…

I'm a mess. Really, I'm a walking bloody mess. And I'm a selfish bitch who is taking everyone down with her. The closest contender is still my mother, but now I fear the biggest fucking demon in my life is me.

~.~.~D&D~.~.~

Getting out the shower before I start to wrinkle seems like a good idea so I quickly grab a towel and dry off. With my palms braced on the counter, I collect myself. My reflection gazes back at me, as I take a deep breath and put on my happy face. It works like a charm because I know Edward is somewhere in this very house. I lost my virginity today and I'm not going to kill my buzz by sulking over a mother who didn't want me in the first place. I'll mull things over when I'm alone but for now, that's it! Wrapping the large golden towel around my body, I step out the steamed bathroom and after a brief pause to clear my head, I'm crossing the hall.

When I get to his room I tighten the towel around me, trying to figure out where he is and if I can use his clothes. He had said he had something for me to wear when we came home, didn't he? There was a sealed toothbrush for me in the bathroom so I'm going to assume I'd heard right and I can freely ransack his closet for a shirt or something.

My eyes flit to the bed where he had been sitting, legs apart and feet firm to the floor when he told me the bathroom was down the hall. Edward was riled up a way I couldn't place. I could tell from the tension in his muscles, the hardness of his eyes and the stiffness of his jaw that there was something wrong with 'us'. He didn't smirk like I had expected when I walked to the bedroom door in the same shirt he'd taken off me earlier today. Instead, when I had looked back at him, he had been leaning his elbows on his knees and watching with his head lowered. He looked like he could cut a fucker.

I tilt my head against the door frame and hear an indistinct thumping sound somewhere behind me.

It's a  THUMP,  heavy and forceful, followed by a pause, then a double  THUMP!

Frowning, I turn and stare down the hallway, trying to decipher where it's coming from exactly.

With light steps, I cautiously make my way across the floor, looking at the three remaining doors to find the source. The thump is followed by a grunt this time and I know I'm getting closer so I pass the first door and track the sound to the second door that I stop outside off.

Tipping my head in, I fuck my mind over six ways to Sunday. It's a makeshift workout room. Much like the rest of the house, he hasn't bothered to do any actual decorating. From my peripheral vision, I see tags and symbols sprayed carelessly here and there on the bare walls. However, I keep focused on the heart of the room, where he moves immaculately, pounding a swaying punching bag like it fucked him over on the biggest deal of his life and then stole his favorite bitch.

Whoa, I've seriously spent too much time with Seth in my lifetime.

Shaking my head at the Sailor Bella residing in it, I walk in slowly navigating between the strewn weight disks and equipment lying around.

Despite my natural stealth, I know he's aware I'm there because his head tilts backwards fractionally before he stops himself from turning. He continues going at the bag as if I'm not there. If I don't move on my own, he will not call out me.

I don't know what's going on but on impulse I halt my steps at the workout bench, keeping it between us. I place my palms on the cool metal of the barbell suspended by its frame above it, watching him, transfixed, as he moves. His movements are powerfully precise and filled with extravagant ferocity. He's wearing fingerless padded boxing gloves and I know that can't be too healthy, but he seems completely unfazed by it as he goes at the bag. I don't want to draw attention to myself in the mood he's in, so I say nothing to question it.

Sweat pours down his body and the muscles of his back and arms flex with every punch he throws. The sight is so familiar, that if it weren't for the ink covering most of the tissue of his back, I'd be transported to La Push where I'd grown accustomed to the vigorous workouts the Wolves indulged in daily. The next resounding  thwack  pulls me from my musings and I watch him quietly as he belts out his anger at the bag with his fists. Part of me is afraid, because I've never seen him like this and I have no idea what's going on. Unsure of what to do, I remain standing where I am, wondering what's happened to get him so angry that he's pushing himself to the point where  I  can practically feel the burn of his muscles in my own body.

My body, of its own volition, moves in a slow circle around the bench, ignoring the jackhammering of my heart behind my ribcage, until I'm able to see his face. My steps falter and his eyes dart to me malevolently when he sees me keep the bench between us. His face is expressionless; he smirks coldly at my wariness. I swallow back the lump that forms in my throat when he turns his attention back to the bag, seamlessly keeping himself aloof. His face stayed stone hard and his veins pulsed wildly throughout his exposed body, creeping like thorny vines up his arm, throbbing with each flex of his bicep at each punch he threw. Furious and fierce, he went at the bag. Grunt and punch after grunt and punch, satisfying crunches of the bag under his violent fist. Sweat dripped down his face, streaking his body and dripping towards his low hanging pants. His dog tags bounce aggressively with each movement of his body and glint when it catches the light.

"Edward?" I called softly, watching stray sprays of his salt as they dropped to the floor as he braced his hands to halt the bag.

He stood still but remained unsettled behind his calm farce. He didn't look at me. Instead, he continued to stare straight ahead and wiped the back of his wrist across his mouth, waiting for me to speak. He was keeping himself at arm's length, like I was used to him doing with everyone else. It stung bad, and I suddenly felt myself doubting everything.

Maybe I'd got it wrong?

Was  it because I didn't answer him? What if what he'd seen on my face after my nightmare had made him decide I  wasn't  worth it? Was it because he felt stronger about my connection to the Wolves now that we  had  sex? Maybe this was  about sex?  Had he gotten what he wanted and now wanted to cut me loose?

Dread filled me harder and faster than I could ever imagine anything besides that wretched dream being able to accomplish. From the pit of my stomach, the nausea bubbled up to my throat as an endless pool of maybes continued to fill my head. Blood pounded wildly in my ears and before I knew it, the words started to fall from my lips. "Is it because you got me to give it up?" I ask, surprised how composed I sounded, even though my voice came out softer than a breath.

"What?" his head snapped to me sharply. I flinched from the look on his face. He was  pissed. He was looking at me like I'd grown a second head, only he was really angry about it. "What the fuck are you on about?"

My heart plummeted to the pit of my stomach. His head cocked to the side and he watched me curiously. My eyes stung and it must've shown because that's when something dawned on him and his face drastically switched. His hand moved towards me and I took a step away despite the fact that he couldn't actually reach me with the bench between us.

"Fuck, babe. No!" he said, frustrated, coming after me, his strides lengthening significantly when I backed away again.

"Bella," My movements are halted by his gloved hand locking around my forearm. "Don't," he warns almost with a hint of desperation when I try to break his hold and step away. "It's not that," he says exasperatedly. Then slips back into his initial annoyance, "are you crazy? Why would you think that?"

I recoil and he steps closer, dropping both his voice and gaze at my reaction. "Fuck." He runs a hand through his hair haphazardly, expelling his frustration on the soft, copper spikes. Sweat flicks off the tips. "Piccola— Look— I'm sorry— Fuck—" he growls. It goes deadly quiet for a moment before he gets his shit together with visible effort. "Why would you think that?" he asks quietly, looking at me.

I don't answer, because I have no idea what his behavior's about, if not that. I can't bring myself to ask if it's because of this morning. Him waking up to me crying in my sleep is both painful and embarrassing, that shit would burn so bad.

"This isn't about sex Bella." There's a controlling firmness in his voice that screams to me it's the truth. "You're mine. I'm not going anywhere," he reassures and my breath catches. I don't miss that he kept his eyes locked to mine emphatically when he said that. It's like he knows something without me having to say it. "And you're not going anywhere either." His fingers tighten on my arm pulling me closer.

I say nothing. I wasn't able to at this point. I really,  really,  wanted to believe him but my own demons kept grating my brains to sawdust. I had no idea what his anger could be due to if it wasn't him rejecting me or about sex?

His eyes burn down on my face.

"The shit you—  Cazzo! (Fuck)" He was having a hard time wording everything properly through his fury, but I could see the effort he was making and it made me relax into his hold. Edward saw something in me he was willing to try for and I'd be damned if I let him do it alone, because let's face it, as of this morning, I realized I required some work.

"I don't do this. But I l—" he exhales sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I keep it fucking straight with you." His stance holds me in place more than his close-to-painful grip as he continues, "Why the fuck won't you?" His fingers traced my inner wrist, trailing my burn expertly without removing his gaze from my face. "Patience isn't a trait I'm known for Bella."

Then  it clicks.

Why he was so angry and annoyed.

He'd seen the burn when I pulled my hair back.

Reflexively, I try to snatch my hand back but he doesn't let go.

His eyes narrow to cold slits and he effortlessly fights my struggling. "What's going on?" he demanded low. His voice alone told me not answering this one  wasn't  an option.

"I didn't—" Mean to. I complete the thought in my head and don't voice it. Best morning of my life followed by the shittiest fucking day ever. I was too mind-screwed right now. All I wanted to do was pull a Bella and run.

He kept his eyes trained on me. They were burning me with compulsive protectiveness. He didn't want to wait. He wanted to demand. I could see the battle warring in him. I pull harder, trying to free myself, but it just makes him tighten his grip.

"You said you'd stop," he hisses through his teeth. This time he was apparently deciding to call me on my bullshit.

"I know." My voice is weak and all kinds of pathetic to my ears. I need to get out of here…now. "I just- Edward- It's just-" my head throbbed. I swear to God, forming a sentence wasn't usually difficult for me but bloody hell, if I didn't feel retarded right now!

I didn't know what I was doing when I was doing it. It was like a trance. But how did I explain this to him? How do I explain that I was terrified by everything that was happening? Because this scared me shitless, and yet somehow it also admittedly sustained me. "I don't know what I'm doing, Edward."

"Really?" he asks. His condescending tone makes me flinch. He ignores it this time. "Cause I have pretty fucking great idea."

His tone is biting, matching his stare. I inhaled sharply and look away. Dying in my embarrassment. He remains firm even though he tries to expel the fierceness with a heavy breath down his nose. He didn't back down anymore than that. He  wanted  answers.

"I tried the patience shit Bella," he says seriously, "I want to know what's wrong. Now."

"It's—" I'm abruptly cut off.

"I know  what  it is, Bella. I recognize the  what  part," he snarls with absolute surety. His eyes flash. "What I want to know is the  why."

Swallowing against equal parts fear and shame I make myself look him in the eye. "I'll tell you, Shadow," I promise, because I'd decided that this morning already. I'd be honest with him about Renee and anything else dealing with it. "I-" Pausing to clear my throat of the defeat clogging it, I try to collect my thoughts as fast as possible. It doesn't work. "I just need time."

I hold my breath and wait. Seconds tick on. I feel my skin prickling. This may be it. That's the honest to God best I can offer right now, without me completely losing my sanity. But my honesty and call for time before I'd answer him may also not be the best he's looking for.

I can feel him searching my face. For answers or truthfulness, I'm sure. But when he nods his head once, though it was stiff and sharp, I let out a huge breath in relief that I hadn't known I was holding. Even if his scowl never died, at least I had some time to get my head right before having to go down this road.

More importantly, though, we were still here, together.

The frown almost joining his brows at the middle never fades and when I burrowed into his chest after I threw my body into his, I feel mine pull together too. I couldn't honestly believe it. He'd let me have time even though he knew what I was doing. In the back of my mind, I wondered if my nagging suspicion that Edward  knew  how to handle my situation was true, because the uncharacteristic patience and care he was treating this with since seeing my cut when he'd kidnapped me from La Push, was hard to ignore. If he'd seen it before, who was it with?

Shutting my eyes tight, I comprehend that I completely lucked out landing him… he simply was more than I deserved. I kissed him above his heart and I felt him lower his head to my hair.

"Not a lot of time Bella," he whispered seriously, clarifying that he wasn't letting this go for long.

I know he's not patient, so this was really more than I could ask for. I didn't argue, because as he said it, he finally wrapped his arms around me too. I felt easiness seep into my bones and relax me. We were okay. I nodded in agreement. I'd agree to anything right now, I was that grateful.

"One more mark on your body..." It's a warning and I don't miss it as he lets it hang in the air, incomplete.

"I don't mean to." My unconscious whisper is buried into his sweaty chest where I hid myself from him, but he hears it anyway.

"I know," his velvet voice is deep and firm.

It's the simplicity of those two words and the outside understanding it implies that has me craning my neck to look at him. I tilt my head up to catch his lips, pouring out my insecurities, questions and gratitude into it. He stood still momentarily, before responding and letting me kiss him. It's searing and possessive on both sides. With his head bowed, I can easily rest my forehead against his when I finally pull away.

"You keep me above the water." I offer him what little assurance my current state of mind-fuckery allows me, after the strange dream that filled my tummy with foreboding that something bad was coming…

"Just keep my head above water, Edward," I whisper with lowered walls, allowing my eyes to show my internal turmoil and fears. I let him see the plea for help and all the answers he craved that I can't yet voice, giving him something sincere in return for him being more than I deserved.

His eyes burned brilliantly as he looked down at me, seeing it all. No words escaped his lips. I knew he wouldn't speak. I didn't need him to. I knew him. I saw what I needed to in the blazing hard windows to his soul that stayed connected to mine, darker and more furious than I'd ever seen before. I saw the promise he wouldn't speak.

Jesus Christ, I wish I could see myself through his eyes. See why he's sticking with me when there are far less complicated girls vying for his attention. But for now I've gone so far past the seriousness of this morning I just want my bubble back. "I'm sorry," I say into his mouth. Taking his lips between mine and sucking softly I lose myself in the moment completely, holding on to the normal pleasures for dear life. Edward. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me," he hisses angry in a whole new wanton way, as I clutch him tighter. Gooseflesh runs down my body, an insatiable burn started between my legs and I wrap my arms around his neck to pull him closer. He responds by pressing his body protectively into mine, clutching me painfully against him as he speaks into my lips, "I told you I'd protect you from everything. You better fucking believe I'll do it even if it's up against you, Bella," he promises darkly.

His words wrap around me in feral, possessive fury. A protective coating that locks me to him. This kiss is a crazy, angered need to be closer. I'm growing needy too, and fast. I need him closer and I can feel him demanding it too. His tongue slams against mine, curling and sucking, forcing it into his. My body reacts instinctively and I go back at him with everything I have. A low moan erupts from my chest as his scent, salt mixing with the smoke, spice and soap, fills my nostrils, making me heady. "Edward."

"Yeah, anima gemella?" He growls low, smacking his lips to mine between every word and backing me up till my spines pushed against the barbell.

"Ahh,"  Holy!  "Oh my,  Gah—" I gasp into his upper lip, when he bites down on my lower one. My legs rub together and my body instinctively recalls how good sex feels. The burning coil in my stomach eagerly fires up again.

"Shit," he hisses like he's in pain, when he feels my legs moving against each other. "I can smell you, Bella." I feel his throbbing cock against my stomach. His voice is husky and wickedly low, "you want it again Cappuccinetto? Me inside you?" He asks, lustful.

God yes!  I scream in my head throwing it back in pleasure when he sucks down my neck to my collar bone then back to my ear. I can't answer him, I'm breathing too heavily for the words to form on my lips.

"How are you feeling?" I hear him ask between my rapid panting.

"Awesome," I answer. Confused and high on lust, it comes out as a strained, breathless growl.

I hear Edward snigger, his breath fanning out on my overheated skin. I don't have a chance to react because, suddenly, he grips the towel roughly, pulling it apart and exposing me milliseconds before pulling me flush against his hard body again. " Here," he practically fucking coos, his voice unmistakably raspy. He rubs the glove against my lips, pressing them lightly to part the wet flesh.

"Oh! Fuck— Edward—" It's a half moan, half wail. He smiles into my hair when he runs his finger through my lips, catching my clit in one hard stroke and feels how rapidly I'm growing wetter.

He chuckles condescendingly. It's cute in my head as I see the familiar wicked playfulness in his lopsided grin. "Yeah baby, we'll fuck," I pouted but he ignored me, lowering his head to whisper straight in my ear, "but how are you feeling, Cappuccinetto?" His breath ghosts seductively across the shell of my ear and down my neck, making me shiver, while the gloved knuckles rub slower, and he curls his wrist so he can push the tips of two fingers into me, emphasizing that he's talking about my tight, wet,  tender  heat.

I gasp in discomfort, then immediately regret it the second I feel him pull away from me. "I'm fine," I lie, my hands brazenly grasping his forearm trying to keep him in place.

He laughs lightly and fucking cockily, amused in a way that makes my nipples harden. I pout, because, what the fuck? He pulls his arm free of my hold easily.

Technically, this was his fucking fault. Shouldn't he take care of it! "Edward!" I huff at him and he comes back fractionally, letting me have my way.

"Bella," he says back.

"Hmm," I hum up at him.

He catches my look and laughs under his breath. "No."

I growl, "Yes!" then I blush from the roots of my hair to the tips of my toes.

He follows the blood staining my skin with entertained eyes. His head lowered, "fucking gorgeous," he says and I blush deeper, my mouth forming a small 'o'. "Keep doing that and I will fuck you."

Then why don't you!

My face must say it all, because he has this look between his eyes that seems to be utter shock mixed with amusement. "Insatiable baby," he smirks, rubbing his nose against the tip of mine, "we'll have so much fun with you," a husky, soft laugh escapes him, despite the effort he's put into keeping his face straight, "but there's no rush, anima gemella. I'm gonna hurt you like fuck if we do this right now." The tender way he's been speaking fades out in the end, in a way that says:  end of discussion.

"I'm grown! I can make my own decisions," I say, folding my arms, unsuccessfully trying to keep the towel around me.

He sniggers, helping me tuck it properly, before turning away to get his gloves off. "Bella, you're sixteen."

Oh, no he didn't!

In my head, I've just slipped on gloves of my own!

I guess in a dumbass way, our usual arguments help me get off the lust,  fractionally. But then, I'm instantly all for this, because I know he's trying to distract me, and lord help me if it isn't working.

"Didn't stop you this morning huh,  adult?" I shoot back with a smug grin. Charlie would be a proud man if he knew how much I absorbed from his job. Well, minus the whole deal about me losing my V card, but details, details.

Edward does a double take at my insinuation. His eyes widen and his brow cocked saying,  the fuck?

1 point for Bella!

I mentally pat myself on the back, and then stop abruptly when I see the smirk he sports when he sees my challenging bitch brow arched at him.

"Whoa, hold up," he looks at me incredulously, folding his arms and standing at his full height, bowing his head to look at me, "I raped you?"

I shrug, in a very Edward-like manner. He doesn't miss it. It makes him cock his own brow with playfulness dancing in his eyes.

"Statutory  rape," I clarify just to annoy him, "since I'm a  minor  and shit."

The last part I throw back at him with narrowed eyes in my mind, because he may not know it, but it pisses me off that Kate and the other bitches are older than me… In a way, it makes me feel kinda inadequate.

Uncaringly, he lowers himself to the bench and leans back lazily, smirking as he starts his bench presses. "Bella, legalities are the least of my fucking worries," he chuckles, bar extended high above him, arms taut, "you're forgetting who I am,  what  I am," he wiggles an incredulous brow at me, "the law can go fuck itself," My pulse responds to his smirk as it turns devilishly wicked, his sharp teeth gleaming at me, "or it can watch me. Fuck. You. Repeatedly.  Minor."

My jaw drops open a little, and I feel my heart pounding. I bite my tongue, but a low moan bubbles in my throat anyway, and I can feel how my eyes dilate.

His face turns darker, hungry again and he starts working faster to quell his frustration and rein in the lust until he just gives up and gets off the bench, barbell forgotten on the floor. He steps towards me, running his eyes slowly up my body to meet my lustful eyes with his blackened ones. Dropping his voice, he speaks deep and huskily, "you were begging for my cock, piccola."

"I did not!" I exclaimed, blushing super hard.

He follows the deep red that covers my face and disappears into my towel with a crooked smirk. Bringing his eyes back to mine, I can see I'm in deep shit in the mischievous depths of glinting green. He presses his body to mine, holding me effortlessly still when I try to squirm free and bolt. I can feel the hard length of him against my spine. He breathes down his nose, right at my ear, "Do you know how hot you are right now?" His fingertips dance, light as feathers, up and down my arms, "and naked on my bed?" He continues lewdly. My body presses back into him impulsively. "Innocent and corruptible," he runs his nose possessively loving along my jaw, breathing in deep until he's back at my ear. "Fuck, baby the way you look all wet and blushing and cumming all over my dick." The low moan I elicit causes a primitive growl to erupt from his chest. "I wanna pound you so hard right now. Can you feel it?" He whispers into my ear, "how crazy you drive me?" He thrusts his dick into me and I grind against him, unconsciously rubbing my thighs together.

"Edward, please," I whisper, eyes shut tight and my hands fisted into his hair.

He sucks on the skin of my neck harder, reddening the mark from this morning and it does nothing but make me hotter for him. My eyes roll back into my head when he blows on it, leaving a tingling, insatiable feeling growing in my belly.

"Yeah, that's how it sounded." He smacks my ass and pulls back.

My eyes fly open. What, what, what? No!

My heels dig into the floor making a squeaking sound that's! how fast I pivot in his direction with my mouth opening and closing a couple of times in a fish movement. There's no two ways about it. Edward Cullen is a cruel son of bitch who just played me at my own game!

"I hate you!" I yell at him. He doesn't even bother fighting against his laughter this time.

"Liar," he bends down to peck my lips quickly then he's out of my reach before I can clobber him.

~.~.~D&D chap12 cont~.~.~