**Disclaimer: The characters and situations of the Twilight Saga depicted in this story are the legal property of Stephenie Meyer, Summit Entertainment, and Little, Brown & Company, and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended, and no profit is being made.

Chapter 5: Port Angeles

I felt Bella's hand slip down from where it had been resting on my chest to my abs, pulling at the cotton of my button-down shirt as it went. Alarmed, I caught her wrist before she could go any lower. Not only were we in public, if a sparsely populated movie theater in Port Angeles on a Saturday night qualified, but we were on a triple date of sorts. Her body was tucked into my side with my arm around her, in spite of the armrest between us, her head on my shoulder. Her face was lit up by the giant screen in front of us, and I realized that she was on the verge of laughter. She was messing with me. For one wild moment, I thought of calling her bluff and dropping her hand into my lap, but sanity slapped me in the face.

What was I even thinking?

Bella and I had our sexual baseline for a regular day. It was perhaps high, but we were responsible adults who still managed to be appropriate in company, meet our obligations to friends and family, and even spent plenty of hours alone together doing completely non-sexual activities. Besides, Bella was new to vampire stamina and constitution, and we were both relatively new to sex. It was totally normal for newly mated vampires to have sex four to six times a night and once or twice during the day. But…every couple of months, there would be an instance where things got out of hand, where we ended up in a feedback loop where we just couldn't stop. Usually, not always, but usually, Bella started it by being particularly insatiable, and then, at some point…a switch in me would flip. I became possessed, relentless in my drive to see just how long I could keep her saying "more," "again," and "Edward, please." When it was just Bella, everything would blow over in a handful orgasms. If I got going, we had no hope of stopping for at least nine hours. At least, that was the minimum amount of time it had taken so far for her to reach a point of overload and say, "Stop! I can't take anymore."

Today was one of those days, and a particularly extreme example of the phenomenon. Last night, Bella had dragged me to bed early and before I knew it, I had spent ten straight hours inside her pussy without ceasing. It still hadn't been enough. We had tried to taper it off, to come down from the high, and failed. Instead stealing a quickie in the pantry of the big house, then a rowdy finger-bang while Bella was on hold with the cable company, a rut against a tree when we should have been hunting, a blowjob in the car on the drive to Port Angeles—and impossibly, I was still only the merest suggestion away from getting hard.

Usually, when these frenzies would hit, we didn't venture out of our bedroom, let alone in public. It was just bad manners to inflict ourselves on other people when we were like this. But tonight, we were keeping some long-standing plans Bella hadn't wanted to break.

Maybe we should have. With Bella's little tease, I was now fully erect and ready to go. From the smug glint in her eyes, that had been intentional.

Are you kidding me? Again? Jasper's thoughts cut through the low chatter of minds in the theater that I had been tuning out.

He was on edge tonight. He had ended up missing his hunting trip too, though for entirely different reasons than Bella and I had, and the scattered five humans in this late night showing of a dance movie were getting to him. Even Peter and Charlotte were having an easier time than he was.

I met his eyes over the heads of Bella and Alice in the seats between us on our row. I tried to look apologetic, but he could probably tell I wasn't quite sorry. I was too delirious enjoying Bella's lust for me to feel properly ashamed.

Of course, no one was affected by our periodic descents into carnal madness quite the same way Jasper was. Sometimes that embarrassed me or made me feel guilty, but the shoe had been on the other foot often enough in the past, with me able to hear his thoughts about Alice, that my sympathy only went so far.

He rolled his eyes, and then turned his attention back to the movie. At least it's both of you now. So much better than when you kept the poor girl starving.

I bristled. Jasper compared the image of human Bella in his head to a cat in heat—just to rile me. He knew I wouldn't like that characterization or that word. Starving. I wasn't sure if it was a fair assessment or not, just that Bella would be mortified if she knew how much of her desire Jasper had experienced second-hand, and that I didn't like the reminder that Bella had suffered for my lack of availability. I reminded myself that waiting until I was sure I was ready had been the right thing to do, but my mood had soured sufficiently that my body was under control again.

I kissed Bella's captive hand and then placed it on my chest, right where it had been before she had gotten playful, but left mine over hers, stroking the skin on the back of her wrist with my thumb. She was thrown by my sudden change of direction, but said nothing.

The protagonists on screen were gearing up for their final dance battle in the rain and Alice sat forward, on the edge of her seat. Midway through the number, Charlotte leaned across Jasper to whisper in Alice's ear, asking questions about the choreographer. Alice answered without taking her eyes of the screen. Even I had to admit was an impressive display, but the best thing about it was that the movie was almost over.

I'm sorry I snapped at you, Jasper thought, contrite, though I could still feel the volatile edges of his mind. And that I brought Bella into it. That was out of line.

I glanced at his morose face, his tense body, and nodded to let him know he was forgiven.

It's easier to focus, he continued, with feelings other than thirst around me to choose from. So, I should be grateful, but it's uncomfortable—because you guys are family. And I can't use Peter and Charlotte to deescalate because they think everyone in this room smells like food and they aren't conflicted about it.

True, but I could also hear in their thoughts that they weren't tempted to act on that appeal at the moment. They respected our rules and never hunted within our territory. They had arrived tonight well-fed and mentally prepared, knowing they would be around humans. Regardless, their emotions wouldn't be helpful to Jasper. It was a good thing the credits were rolling now.

Out of courtesy, we waited for the humans to file out first, so as not to unduly test our out-of-town guests. That was good for Jasper, too, though Bella and Alice didn't know how he was fairing at the moment. Alice must have been very focused on the movie to have missed how the runtime had felt for him. She was chatting with the group about the film. Mostly it was Bella and Charlotte humoring her, but Peter was participating, too.

"Will you be buying this one?" Charlotte asked.

Alice smiled and nodded in confirmation. "The dance sequences definitely merit rewatching."

As long as it's not Dirty Dancing again, Jasper and I thought at the same time.

I managed to keep from snickering, but only just. Bella saw my expression, but refrained from asking me in the moment. From experience, I knew she would want to know later.

When we stood to leave, I leaned around Bella to tap Alice's upper arm. She looked over her shoulder at me, and I gestured significantly with my eyes at Jasper. Bella watched the exchange with interest.

Is it bad? Alice thought, rattled.

I shrugged. It wasn't good, but I couldn't say how close he was for sure. He hadn't planned or pictured anything at least. Alice cycled through a few quick visions as we shuffled through the exit, and we were both relieved to see that the immediate future wasn't ideal, but it probably wasn't dire either.

Thank you, Edward. I will take care of it.

In front of the theater, Alice announced that she and Jasper would be leaving. "Jazz and I would like to get in some hunting tonight," she said nonchalantly and with a smile.

The humans on the sidewalk and street were few, and there was little in the way of lingering. Most were making a b-line directly for their cars or the bar across the street. We had chosen the last showing of the night for a reason. It was just after one-thirty in the morning and there was chilly bite in the air regardless of the fact it was technically spring.

Charlotte embraced Alice. "Pete and I will be back this way after our trip to the north pole. We will stop by for a longer visit then, if the timing works for you?"

"Of course! You both are always welcome." Alice kissed her cheek.

Then Peter swept my sister up into a bear hug that lifted her feet off the ground, and her laughter trilled through the air. Jasper and Peter clapped each other on the back, and then my siblings were gone.

A lighter clicked beside me, and Charlotte lit a cigarette. She offered one to Peter and he took it, lighting his with the tip of hers, which had her giggling and making moony eyes at him. I restrained myself from wrinkling my nose. I knew that they smoked because the strong smell overrode the scent of human blood, making it easier to move through populated areas. It was effective, and that was the trouble. The smell was so strong that it bludgeoned our heightened senses, but it would be rude to make faces when Peter and Charlotte were doing their best to respect our rules, and I couldn't begrudge them this relief after sitting patiently in a movie theater with five pumping hearts for over two hours.

Peter raised his arm as though he were going to put it around his mate, but instead placed his hand so that it was caressing the skin at the base of her neck on the left side. Between his fingers, I could see the white outlines of the bite mark he was stroking.

Bella leaned into my side. She was watching the two of them with a slightly mushy expression on her face.

"So," I said, "you're off north?"

Peter grunted in the affirmative. He was a tall man who looked powerful and serious, but the latter was a mirage. When he grinned, any ideas about him being taciturn or brooding fell away, because it came so easily and so suited his face. "We'll stop by the Denali Coven of course, spend some time in the northern provinces of Canada, and then a few days at the pole. It's beautiful this time of year, and Lott wants to paint some landscapes." The memories that swept through his mind substantiated just how stunning the scenery really was. He flashed a smile at the woman beside him, his thoughts full of how exquisite she was while she painted.

Charlotte ashed her cigarette elegantly, like someone who had been doing it for sixty years. Which, naturally, she was. Whether it was the cigarette, her special-occasion red lipstick, or her slinky, almost animalistic posture, Charlotte reminded me of a pint-sized 1940's movie star, even if a close inspection of her clothing revealed how worn and ratty they were becoming.

"I can give you one, if you like?" She stepped forward, Peter's hand falling from her neck to his side, and looped her arm in Bella's. It was an awkward understanding of personal boundaries, but many nomads had that problem, exacerbated by how separate they lived from society. Bella wasn't entirely comfortable, but she took the moment in stride.

They began walking toward the parking lot where my Volvo was waiting. Peter and I followed after them.

"Really? One of your paintings? Oh, I don't know," Bella waffled, her hesitance to accept gifts showing.

Charlotte smirked at Bella's expression, but there was fondness there and in her thoughts. She liked my wife, and I knew thanks to my talent that she didn't like most people she met, that she didn't even care for Jasper much of the time. From what I could tell, Bella liked her, too. I didn't quite know how I felt about this burgeoning friendship. I had learned the hard way that I had no say in who Bella counted as a friend, but there was something about the prospect of this one that made me uneasy. Peter and Charlotte weren't evil or bad per se, especially not by the standards of vampire cultural norms, but they were nomads, and I preferred to keep a degree of emotional distance there. Even if Peter was a brother of sorts to Jasper.

"I don't keep my paintings, Bella. I travel light, so I complete them and leave them for others to find." Charlotte teased, "If not you, then a roadside motel, or an alley behind a McDonald's, maybe even a polar bear."

Bella laughed, and I reminded myself that Charlotte had voted to stay and stand as a witness for Renesmee when Peter and many others had wanted to leave. I had to trust Bella's judgment and hope for the best.

"Okay," Bella relented. "I will accept a painting if that will save it from a polar bear."

We reached the car, where Peter and Charlotte's packs had been tucked into my back seat just before entering the movie theater. I unlocked the door and so they could retrieve their belongings. We said our goodbyes and our nomadic friends slinked off into the night and away.

"Shall we head home? Relieve Rose of her babysitting duties?" I asked Bella, though I already knew the answer.

We were alone now—we had no one to pretend for, to restrain ourselves in front of, and we were both still feverish with our mad lust.

Bella didn't even bother responding. She leaned against my car in her sundress, over-sized cardigan falling off her shoulder, a knowing half-smile on her lips. It was impossible to miss that she wasn't wearing a bra. That obvious fact had been driving me crazy all night. Her pearly skin glowed under the parking lot lights, the pupils of her amber eyes dilated with want as her gaze raked my body. I knew I was in serious danger of having my clothes torn off.

"Where?" I asked, my voice hoarse, my pants tight.

She considered, and then gestured with her head toward the pier.

I reached out, lifted her hand in mine, and tugged her along with me toward the street, heading toward the shoreline. The easy breeze tossed her hair as we walked, the smell of salt growing stronger, the sound of waves louder. There were two people milling outside the bar, so we couldn't move at our natural speed, but we got where we were going with time. The ferries had stopped for the night hours ago, so the boardwalk and docks were deserted.

We looked out at the light of the crescent moon fracturing and glittering on the crashing waves, standing side by side.

Bella broke the silence. "We don't have to follow my lead for this. It's not a game."

The thought hadn't even occurred to me before she brought it up, but now I was curious. "Is there a game to be had?" I glanced meaningfully over my shoulder, back toward the city of Port Angeles.

Bella shook her head. "I got everything I wanted that night."

My brows rose.

"My first date with you," she clarified. "I wouldn't change a second of it." Her bottom lip jutted stubbornly when my face hardened. "Don't look at me like that. They didn't hurt me, and if they hadn't hassled me, you wouldn't have revealed yourself. I'm not saying I enjoyed that part, I'm saying it all worked out."

She never took danger as seriously as she should, perhaps the reason she found herself in it over and over again. But then, she had also been spared the thoughts of those predators. She had a rough idea of what they might have done and that was all—no details, no specifics. I couldn't bring myself to regret that.

"You came back after being gone for a week that felt like forever. You saved my life, charmed my friends, gave me your coat. You bought me mushroom ravioli and didn't flirt with the waitress at all, even though she was prettier than me and drooling over you." Her hand tilted my jaw in her direction so that I had to look at her. Her smile was surprisingly tender. "You let me in, for the first time. It was our first honest conversation, in the restaurant and the car, and it was everything to me. I was already head over heels, and then you go and do all that." She raised up on her toes and her lips were against mine. It was one of those breathtakingly earnest kisses, where her love was so naked and vast that it made me want to shield her from all the ugliness of the world, of me. "I was hopelessly gone after that. Yours, just yours."

Her kisses were searing me now. They were emotionally hungry rather than just lustful, and that ramped my response up in equal kind. I swept her body against mine, and the contact was a special kind of comfort. In spite of everything that had happened between that night and this moment, she was here, in my arms and in love with me.

"Edward," she breathed. "I need you to make love to me."

My ravenous lips trailed up her jaw, kissing as I went. "Yes." I didn't know if it was a promise or a simple agreement with her statement of fact.

She was plucking at my shirt collar, my buttons. "Is anyone looking at us? Thinking about us?"

To check, I had to briefly pause, refocus my energies. "No, no one."

"Good." Her fingers got to work opening my shirt, her tongue finding the skin she revealed as she went.

I groaned in pleasure. She was driving me insane, but I couldn't lose my head just yet. No one was paying attention to us now, but we were in the open and that could change at any moment.

"Bella…?" I trailed off, struggling to finish the thought when she tugged my nipple between her teeth.

But she seemed to know what I was asking anyway. "The water. Like our honeymoon."

That was straightforward enough. I lifted her into my arms, her answering squeal echoing over the pier. With purpose, I leapt from the dock and landed lightly on the beach below. I walked us under the dock and to the water's edge, where I put her down.

No moonlight reached us here; her face was cast in deep shadow, but I could still read her sly smile as she dropped her cardigan to the sand. She nudged first one strap, then two, of her sundress off her shoulders and untied the sash of fabric around her waist. The dress pooled at her feet. It was then revealed that not only was Bella not wearing a bra, she hadn't been wearing anything at all under that dress. I gaped at her loveliness.

"God, Bella."

My pants needed to go. Now. I shucked them to the ground along with my underwear and the shirt that had been hanging open. My shoes were an inconvenient and awkward afterthought. I did find the presence of mind to gather our clothing and tuck it on top of a support beam to protect it from the tides, my erection bobbing painfully as I did so.

"Good thinking," Bella said, though her expression told me she wasn't terribly concerned about our clothes.

She smiled, took my hands in hers, and led me into the water under the dock. The chill felt refreshing against my skin, and I was grateful that I didn't have to worry that it was too cold for her, or that she would cut her foot on a sharp rock. We waded to our knees, then our waists, and when the water was part way up our chests, Bella stopped. She backed against a timber pillar and leaned into it, ends of her hair floating just beneath the surface, waves lapping at the underside of her breasts.

"Here?" I asked, leaning over her.

"Here," she confirmed. She spread her legs for me, thighs coming up on either side of my hips and locking me to her. "Love me, Edward."

I reached between us, into the water, to spread her open for me. She was more than ready. Muscles tense, I slid into her. God, it was a relief, after hours of waiting, of wanting. "I do," I murmured, kissing her brow. "I love you, Bella."

She whimpered and pulled my lips to hers.

I made love to her, slowly, the rhythm coming to match the push and pull of the waves without me consciously choosing to do so. Her hips rolled forward and met each of my thrusts greedily, while she gasped her bliss into my mouth, her fingers tangled in my hair. I braced my left arm on the timber above us, and my right was still beneath the water, palm against the smooth skin of her lower abdomen, thumb rubbing her clitoris in time with our lovemaking.

Sometimes, the physical sensation of sex with Bella overrode everything else. Blinding bodily pleasure. And then there were times like this, when the ecstasy went deeper, to extremities I wasn't even sure I had—my spirit, my soul. Yet, the experience was too real, too sincere for me to worry that I was being cheesy or fanciful. I felt happy, so loved, so whole.

I tenderly brought her to her first orgasm. Holding myself inside to the hilt, I maintained firm pressure on her clit as the euphoria took her and she choked out my name. I cradled her against my body while she came down, and then began again. It was a half hour later before her second climax took her and I allowed myself release. I leaned into her body and basked in her love. She babbled about how good I was, how well I made her come.

I was…spent. The fire, the delirium that had stalked me for the past thirty hours, was sated. I was almost relieved, though that shouldn't have surprised me. It was no secret I didn't like the feeling of being out of control.

When I started to pull out of her, Bella's legs gripped me. "Just a little longer."

Chuckling, I kissed her temple. "Whatever you want, Bella love."

It was then that I felt a tickling at the edge of my mind. I warned her, "A security guard is making the rounds."

"Is he close?"

"No. He's down at the other end of the pier, but he will be headed this way next to check the operations tower."

She nodded, her head resting on my chest. "So, we should move?"

"It might be wise." I gauged his distance. "We have enough time to get dressed and leave before he gets here."

Bella snorted. "Oh, we're not doing that."

That was news to me. "We're not?"

She disentangled herself from me with a regretful moan, my cock slipping out of her, and lowered her feet to the sand. "No, I'd like a swim. Wouldn't you? I've never done this as a vampire."

My answering grin was lopsided.

We ducked under the water and ventured further from the shore. Bella had gotten wet before as a vampire in forest rivers and ponds, but she hadn't tried to swim. There was a bit of a learning curve. Our bodies were so heavy that we didn't float. Without buoyancy, it was only power that propelled us through the water. Getting to and staying at the surface took a lot of effort, but it was also unnecessary given that we didn't need to breathe. I demonstrated for her and she caught on quickly enough. We didn't venture too far from the mainland, but we did drift from the pier to a piece of shoreline less frequented by humans. There, we moved back toward the beach.

Bella's head broke the surface and I followed her. Her eyes were alight with exhilaration, visible even with her hair plastered across them. "That's definitely different."

I grinned.

"I like it. Though, it is a little uncomfortable, not having my sense of smell." She dunked her head underwater again and reemerged at an angle that kept her sopping wet hair out of her face.

"It takes getting used to," I agreed.

"Is the water here really that empty, or did everything just scram when we came swimming by?"

I brushed my lips against hers. "We're predators, Bella. You can't blame them." I had meant the peck to be quick, affectionate, an impulse brought on by how much I was enjoying her enthusiasm. I hadn't meant to start anything. After all, my fever had broken. I shouldn't have been surprised that Bella was in a different place.

She moaned, arms snaking around my neck as I tried to pull back, and she fixed her lips to mine. I realized how serious she was when the kisses turned hungry and open-mouthed. I kissed her back, but she could read me, too.

We broke apart and she studied my face. Her eyes closed. "Damn it." She bashed her forehead against my chest in disappointment.

"Bella…?"

"You're done, aren't you?"

I laughed.

"It's not funny," she griped.

"It's not a big deal either." I placed a reassuring hand on the back of her neck. "I can take care of you. Whatever you need."

She peered up at me skeptically.

"Here." I took her hand and guided it underwater to my cock. Vampire stamina. It was hardening under my will. I may personally be satiated, but I could get hard again if I wanted to. I could and would do it for her.

Bella bit her lower lip. "You don't have to. You're not obligated," she said, but I could tell how much she was enjoying touching me, feeling me stiffen in her hand.

I dropped my voice, made it husky. "Bella, let me help you come. Anything you want."

She shivered. "Okay."

Surveying our surroundings, her eyes lit on a cluster of large rocks, jutting out of the surf, waves crashing into their faces. Her expression looked hesitant, unsure.

"What is it?"

"Edward…would you maybe be willing to try something different?" Bella looked so vulnerable. That made me want to reassure her, but it also made me nervous.

"How different?"

She shook her head, scrambling to reassure me. "Not different, really. Just…more. More intense than we usually do." She swallowed heavily. "Would you maybe be willing to be a little rough with me?"

My stomach turned. "Rough?"

Bella spread her palms. "Not very! I don't want you to hurt me." Then her eyes widened as though something had just occurred to her. "And I don't want you to call me names." Her brows furrowed and there was an unguarded kind of fear in her expression. "In fact, please, please don't do that ever."

That wasn't something she ever had to worry about. I pressed my lips to the bridge of her nose. "I promise."

"I'm not explaining this well at all." She tried again. "I don't want you to be rough with me like you don't love me or want to punish me. I don't want you to not care about my feelings or my enjoyment. I just want…I want you to be rough with me like you want me too much, like I've tempted you too far, and then you can't help yourself and you can't be gentle anymore."

Ah. This made more sense. A pattern was emerging out of our games and explorations: Bella was really turned on by the idea of me losing control. It was baffling to me. My control was the only reason I hadn't killed her during our courtship. Me losing control wasn't a fantasy—it was a nightmare.

"If it's too far for you, I understand." I wondered whether she was aware that she was wringing her hands. "I only brought it up because, if you have leveled out and we're trying to get me to the same place, I think this might work."

"Why would you think that?"

Bella shrugged stiffly. "Because it always has. We've never done it on purpose before, but sometimes we get caught up, and you go too far, too hard. It…really does it for me."

So…wait. Then she wasn't so much asking for something new as something we'd never decided to do deliberately. This was sexual behavior I had already exhibited in the past. I thought of what we had done in the high school supply closet—the closest we had ever come to undermining my control on purpose. But maybe she was also thinking of the time she had started playing with herself while I was driving to tease me and I had pulled over, ordered her out of the car, and taken her hard and fast on the hood. Or the time in the forest, when I had rutted the fallen tree I had bent her over into the ground. Or, goddamn it, our very first time, on Isle Esme, when I broke the bed, shredded the pillows, and she woke up covered in bruises. I had cringed at these moments in retrospect, what they represented, but I was getting the idea that Bella felt quite the opposite.

I rubbed my face. "Jesus Bella. Testing my self-control is not a game. Not now, and definitely not when you were alive."

"I know." Her voice was small.

"My restraint wasn't for fun, or some weird, old-fashioned quirk. Your life literally depended on it."

She caught my gesturing hands. "I know." Bella turned her right hand over and placed it, palm up, in mine. The raised scar at the base of her palm caught the moonlight. It was the only scar on her body to survive her transformation. All human scars had disappeared completely, and my bites to inject as much venom in her as possible had been fresh and thus healed in the turning. But this bite remained and would forever. "I know," she whispered. "Your self-control is an expression of your character, your desire to be a good person. With me, it was an act of love. A day in, day out, struggle you endured to be with me, and the pinnacle was this. He bit me, and you saved me. You sucked the venom out so that I could stay human until I could make the choice for myself. You drank my blood and somehow managed to stop once the venom was gone, before you killed me. This," she traced her finger across the bite mark for emphasis, "is the most romantic thing you have ever done for me, and it was an act of unparalleled self-control."

All the tension went out of my shoulders. I brought her palm, the scar, to my lips and kissed it tenderly. Memento of one of the worst days of my entire existence.

"Your self-control makes me feel safe and loved. It always has." She caressed the side of my face. "Don't ever worry that my fantasies mean that I am not taking that seriously. It's only because I know from experience that even if you 'lost,'" she put the word in quote marks, "control, you would never, ever hurt me that I can even fantasize about it in the first place. Even when you snap, there's still that line that you would never cross, because you're a good person and you love me."

The trust in her eyes was absolute. In the moment, I could almost believe along with her that it was all true.

"I'm going to say that one more time, to make sure that you are really hearing me, Edward: You losing control is only sexy because I know, even if you did, I would be safe with you."

It wasn't worth arguing the point. Maybe if she was still human, I would have pressed, but fortunately, the question of my willpower now had little to no bearing on her personal safety. I accepted that she would never be as skeptical of me as I was. It still didn't change the fact that I didn't understand.

I took a deep breath to clear my head. "If you get that I'm this way because I love you, then why you would want something different sexually?"

She laughed humorlessly. "I know. It seems maybe a little self-defeating. Ungrateful, even. It's just…watching you constantly visibly restrain yourself and succeed, every time, it makes a girl feel resistible."

I was gobsmacked. "Bella, if you were the least bit resistible, I would have been able to walk away from you when we met. I tried, but I came back. I always came back."

She wouldn't meet my eyes, but I could tell that my words pleased her.

Well, at least I understood now. It wasn't about her not taking the circumstances of our courtship seriously; it was about her wanting to feel sexy. I could imagine, insecure as she was about the degree of her desire for me, that she just liked feeling as though I wanted her as badly as she wanted me.

"So, basically, you'd like me to not be gentle?" A connection lit up in my brain, between this conversation and a past fantasy. "You'd like me to fuck you."

The word sounded unnatural coming out of my mouth, but I noted how Bella swayed on her feet, as though her knees had threatened to give out.

"Not always." Her voice was thin, like she was lightheaded. "Just sometimes."

"Now."

She nodded, her expression so hopeful I couldn't bear disappointing her.

"Where?"

"Those rocks." She inclined her head. "I thought maybe you could bend me over one and…."

I squared my jaw and nodded. This was doable. I wrapped my arm around her, under the swell of her backside, and lifted her against my body with a sudden jerk, the water between us sloshing loudly as it was displaced.

Bella gasped, a smile spreading across her face. She caressed the side of my face and bent her lips to mine. "You spoil me."

"I'm going to try," I said. "I don't know if this is something I can force."

She shook her head. "Don't force it. I'm telling you all these things about what I like and how I feel because I want to be open. I know you always obsess over what I am thinking, and I don't want you to have to guess—not about this stuff. But I also don't want you to feel like I'm asking you to change or do things that are uncomfortable for you just for my sake."

"That's not the case here. Like you said, I've done this before."

"As recently as last night."

I paused. "Last night?" To my mind, I had been ravenous, but not rough.

Bella found my expression amusing. "Edward, you kept at me all night without stopping. You only let up when we heard Renesmee wake." She brushed her lips over the slopes of my face sensually. "I was sore for hours today."

My breathing hitched. "Sore?" That was a word that made me feel all kinds of conflicted.

She nodded, nose grazing my skin. "That's the best part of you losing your head. When I was human, I was sore after every time, no matter how gentle you tried to be. It takes a lot to make me sore these days, but ten hours of non-stop fucking will do it." Her voice was husky, and her nails were grazing my neck and shoulders. "It's the most incredible sensation—satisfying. Naughty, like I'm carrying around a secret. I can't so much as take a step without remembering that you were inside me, without being fully aware that I am empty, but I was full, stretched full, by you. That my body was used to bring yours pleasure."

I knew what she was doing. She was seducing me, helping me into the frame of mind we were both seeking, and it was working. My hands clenched the fleshy cheeks of her bottom, and my erection throbbed against her hip.

"Unfortunately, I heal so fast now that all that delicious aching was gone by noon. I needed more." Her whole body curled longingly into mine, lips tracing my brow. "Thank God, you couldn't leave me alone today. Constantly touching me, groping me, fingering me—keeping me hungry. But now you'll finish me off, won't you? You'll give it to me so hard, I'll remember was sore really feels like."

With a growl, I raked my teeth along her collar, and Bella cried out.

I barely felt the water as I moved through it now. I was focused on the singular destination of the rock Bella said she wanted to be bent over—there was no such thing as fast enough. At the base of the boulder, I spun her body so that it was facing away from me and pushed her down onto the hard surface, my hand on her neck. Her bottom arched upward, her sweet pussy pouting at me above the swirling foam of the night waves, hitting us just above the knee.

Torn, I felt both desperation to be inside her already and an ache to taste her honey on my tongue. But Bella ended the debate.

"No foreplay," she gasped. "And don't you dare go slow."

Right. She wanted to be sore. I would do my best. Parting her lips, I lined myself up and thrust myself inside her warm heaven in one stroke.

Her cry wasn't pure pleasure—I detected some discomfort, maybe even pain.

"Bella?"

"That was perfect," she choked. "Keep going." Her head fell forward and she pressed it into the stone. "Oh God, I'm already coming."

Her words sent electricity through me. Sure enough, I was feeling her inner walls contort and convulse around me. With what sounded like a snarl, I gripped her hips too tightly, pulled back, and snapped my hips forward—a rough thrust that visibly pushed her body into the stone. From there, I was lost. The repetition, the rhythm, became an involuntary thing.

Bella was often vocal in our bed, but this was a frenzied, babbling kind of screaming. Every thrust was punctuated with sharp, needy, incoherent encouragement. I was maintaining a merciless pace. Each drive into her brutal in its force, and she pushed back to meet me every time with a squeak or cry or squirm. Her nails clawed at the stone beneath her, scraping trenches into the surface.

I tried to keep it going as long as possible, but there was no way to drag out something this intense, this fierce. She came, again, and this time I could not withstand the milking spasms of her ecstasy without exploding. That's what it felt like—I was bursting, detonating inside her.

The aftershocks were sharp, until they weren't. The throbbing faded to quiet, sublime bliss.

"Was that what you were looking for?" I asked, panting, my forehead resting on her back beneath her shoulder blades.

She laughed raggedly. "You were perfect. No notes."

I nuzzled her skin and kissed her spine. Her torso rumbled with contentment, which was why it was so startling when she cried out suddenly and swore. She wriggled out from under me and dove over the boulder, into the water, before I had even fully registered the mood change.

Panic gripped me. "What? What is it?"

She was rooting around in the water, head beneath the swirling waves, but I knew she could hear me.

"Bella, are you okay?"

She resurfaced. The expression on her face was one of pure relief. "My wedding ring." She held it up so that I could see. "It slipped off and fell in the water." She climbed up onto the rock and sat with a sigh.

"How?" I asked as I joined her, sidling close, examining her left hand and the ring.

"It's a little loose," she said simply. "It's almost come off a few times tonight, but I always caught it in time."

"Loose?" I had made sure it was sized perfectly before the wedding.

"It only seems to be a problem when I get it wet. I lost some weight early in the pregnancy."

My jaw tightened. An understatement if ever there was one. If I was capable of having nightmares, images of Bella at that time, eyes sunken and skeletal, would certainly be in the rotation.

She showed me how the ring slid onto her finger. It was slightly too big. "I gained some of the weight back once we figured out what Renesmee needed nutritionally, but not all of it. I guess the change is permanent now."

It was ridiculous the way she talked around the abject horror of a situation where she'd had to drink human blood, as a human, to keep her half-vampire baby from killing her—instead, making it sound absolutely mundane, like she had just needed more iron or B12 or something. My fingers tightened around hers. "Well then, we should get it resized."

Bella kissed my cheek and then reclined back onto the boulder. She had to rearrange herself a bit to find a comfortable and secure position, but she didn't pull her hand free from my grip as she did.

I smiled fondly down at her. "Are we taking a moment?"

"It's nice here."

The view was nice at least. Bella had splayed herself on the rock, her hips and legs resting on the portion below the waterline, her naked breasts arched upward and kissed with moonlight, her hair strewn over the rock around her beautiful face. The white waves rose and fell over her body. She looked like a mermaid.

My hand was drawn, irresistibly, to trace over, around, and between her perfect breasts with the tips of my fingers. She let me touch to my heart's content, sighing with pleasure. If I weren't such a jealous creature, I might wish that she never cover them again.

"Edward? Can I ask you something?"

"What would you like to know?"

She was fingering her wedding band and mine. "Why was a marriage ceremony such a big deal for you?"

My brows knit. "I told you."

She smiled. "I know—you're traditional, and you wanted to do everything you could to safeguard my soul. I meant, why the human version specifically? I didn't question it at the time because I didn't know that there was a vampire equivalent."

It took me a moment to catch up with her train of thought and puzzle through what she was referring to. True, vampires didn't usually have human wedding ceremonies, but there was a common ritual practiced by nomads when they selected their mates. They exchanged bites at the base of the neck on the left side, during the physical act of mating, marking each other. It was permanent and barbaric.

"There isn't a vampire equivalent," I said flatly.

She quirked a brow at me. "Peter and Charlotte aren't married?"

Is that where this was coming from? "They aren't. They're mated, not married."

She spluttered a laugh, as though I had said something particularly absurd. "That is a semantic difference and nothing else, Edward Cullen. We're mated, too, aren't we?"

Maybe she had a kind of a point, but it didn't matter. "My family doesn't do things that way."

"Why not? It doesn't hurt anyone, and we dress so covered up around humans that no one but other vampires would ever see it."

"Doesn't hurt?" Surely, she hadn't forgotten how painful our bites were.

Bella rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean." She sat up. "I'm not seeing the harm. I can understand why Rosalie or Carlisle might not find the idea appealing, but I don't see why it should be viewed so negatively."

This was one of the strangest conversations we had ever had, and I was growing uncomfortable. "Because we live differently than the vampires who think that way. It's a claiming ritual—like property. There is one of us who has a bite, you know? Just one, and it's Jasper. Alice didn't do it—Maria did, even though they didn't have a mate bond, she marked him. You might not know if you weren't looking for it mixed in with all those newborn bites, but Alice knows it's there, at the base of his neck, and they both have to live with that."

Bella didn't treat that as the trump argument I believed it to be. "We're still caught up in semantics and symbols. Are you going to try to tell me that marriage wasn't same way for thousands of years? Marriage is worse, even—because it was used to just treat the woman as property. At least mating bites are exchanged. Maria may have used the bite to consolidate power, but what about Peter and Charlotte? There is nothing but love and commitment there, and that is all their bites mean. Just like this," she held up her ring, "doesn't mean you own me. Not to us. What matters most is what these symbols mean to the couple."

I raked my fingers through my hair. "You're not wrong," I conceded. "But I don't think you're seeing fully what the bite means in the wider sense. Peter and Charlotte aren't necessarily representative."

"I didn't just talk to Charlotte about it."

That was a surprise.

"Garrett was the one who first brought it up."

My eyes narrowed.

Bella again indicated the scar on her hand. "He was curious why you had placed your bite in such a non-traditional place. When I explained, he said that he didn't know how he would feel if his mate had another man's bite on her body."

"Garrett's a jackass," I spat, the words coming from a place of anger, and they were neither false nor completely fair. Her eyebrows rose. I enclosed Bella's palm in my hands. "Don't listen to him."

"You just admitted that Maria's bite bothers Alice. James' doesn't bother you?"

I fought the snarl rising in me. "Obviously, it does. But not in the way you are meaning right now, because I'm civilized and you aren't property."

And the purpose between the two was completely different. James had been trying to kill Bella, not mark her. I shifted uncomfortably at very the idea.

She studied me. "That's it, isn't it? The difference for you? You see exchanging bites as uncivilized."

"It is uncivilized." I threw my hands up. "Bella, I don't know why we are having this conversation."

Bella laughed. She wasn't nearly as agitated as I was. "You don't? Really?"

And then it smacked me in the face. The obvious truth that my brain had been refusing since she raised this unwelcome topic. Bella didn't…she couldn't actually want…?

Entirely too easily, she said, "Come on. You have to admit, it's romantic and sexy. Way more than an expensive party and a legal contract."

Oh my God…she did.

"No," I said firmly. "I don't feel that way."

There was visible disappointment in her expression, but she tried to downplay it. "You look so scandalized. I've seen that look before, you know—the night I threw myself at you. You bought me a bed, put it in your bedroom, invited me to spend the night with you in it while your family was away, and then you were shocked when I thought we should have sex in it." She laughed, and I could see that she was trying to diffuse the tension. "Sometimes we're on such different wavelengths. To me, it seemed like a natural extension of everything we were already doing and feeling, but from the way you reacted, the idea had never occurred to you. I'm sorry for the reenactment."

In some ways, it was a painfully apt comparison. I kept forgetting that Bella didn't view vampirism the way I did—even now that she was one, too.

I wrapped my arm around her because I didn't want her to pull away. "I didn't know. I'm aware that sounds unbelievable, but I didn't know."

Bella raised an eyebrow at me. "How horny I was? I know you didn't know. And I'm glad, because I didn't want you to. For a while there, it was the only shred of dignity I had left."

I shook my head because that wasn't precisely what I meant. "I know that I look good to humans on the surface, that we are attractive to our intended food, but I also know how many things about me are unsettling up close. So, I was sure that you would be frightened of my teeth, that my eyes would make you feel like prey, and, most especially, that my touch would be cold and unpleasant. I kept our kisses fairly chaste and stayed on top of the covers while you slept to keep myself in check, yes, but it was also because I didn't want to push you too far and see you cringe away."

Bella laughed darkly, her expression incredulous. "That's insane."

"I figured it out," I defended myself. "It took a while, but I figured it out. You didn't take the fact that I was a vampire seriously at all."

"Wrong." She snorted. "I took it seriously. I just…," her lips lifted in a playful smile, "found those things exciting."

I stared at her.

"Edward, your teeth were scary—of course they were. Your eyes made me feel like rabbit dinner, especially the blacker they got. Your skin never felt human in the slightest. I wasn't blind to those things or ignoring them. I was enjoying them." She wasn't smiling anymore, the seriousness of what she was revealing cast a pall over her features. "There's something I should probably confess to you. You won't like it," she warned, "but it feels wrong not to tell you at this point, since we have been so honest with each other."

My whole body had clenched in shock and revulsion already. I didn't doubt for a second that she was correct—whatever this was, I didn't want to know it, but I couldn't open my mouth.

"The wet dreams I used to have about you? Well, they pretty much always included an aspect of you drinking my blood. Not realistically! I know that any real-world scenario would have sent you into a frenzy and left me dead. More, like it is in the movies. It was just in dreams; I didn't fantasize."

She caressed my cheek, comforting me, but I barely felt it. I was frozen, numb, while the edges of my reality fractured and cracked.

"I don't think it was ever supposed to be literal. Just a metaphor for all the ways I wanted you to take me, all the ways I wanted to satisfy you. The dream, the one you overheard? It was like that."

Her words rang out to me in my memory, clear as a bell. Edward, kiss me. My neck. Deeper, I need you deeper inside me.

She was worrying her lip. "I could blame Hollywood, or Anne Rice, but who knows where it came from, really? The association was there. Why do you think I went into a full swoon every time you kissed my neck? It was the most thrilling thing ever, because it was so dangerous, so loaded. Because you were a vampire and I was a human. That's the iconic image—the lecherous vampire bites the maiden's neck, penetrates her with his teeth, and she's never the same again."

If I could be sick, I would. "Bella, stop it. It's not like that." The conviction in my words was hollow even in my own ears. "It was never like that."

"Not in real life maybe. Not exactly." She was verbally scrambling. My reaction was worse than she had anticipated. I couldn't imagine what the expression on my face must look like. "But Edward, please understand that it's different for me than it is for you. Remember, you did drink my blood. And while that experience was so painful and, frankly, nightmarish that it destroyed the cinematic version, it did more than that. It flipped the script on its head. In the stories, it's all lust, and the blood-drinking deflowers the girl, makes her worldly and brings her closer to darkness. But when you drank me, it was all for love. You did it to preserve my innocence, because you couldn't bear it being taken from me without my consent. I can't think of that with the disgust that you do. I can't." She swallowed, her eyes earnest. "I told you—as far as I'm concerned, it was the most romantic thing you have ever done for me."

I was registering her words, that they made a kind of sense even. From her point of view, at least. But they were coming up against the brick wall of everything I was, everything I believed about myself and my world, and I could. not. hear. her.

At my continued silence, her throat made a pitiable sort of noise. Anxiety vibrated off her. "I can see that this whole thing was a bad idea. I thought I might try, because we have been doing so good with hard conversations lately, and you told me about some of your darkest desires. I…I thought it might be okay to tell you mine." Her voice grew small. "Especially given how similar they were."

That got a response from me. "Similar?" I spat.

Bella didn't back down, in fact, her shoulders squared the way they did when she was objecting to something unfair. "Yes, Edward. Similar. We were both a little into the idea of you biting me and drinking my blood. I thought exchanging mating bites might be a way we could work through that mess that's…healthy? Maybe? I don't know—it was an idea. Clearly it was a bad one and I'm sorry for bringing it up."

I reeled away from her, off the rock and into the water so that I was standing several feet from her, my hands shaking. "Drinking your blood is not a fantasy we are turning into a game."

Her eyes widened. "I never suggested we do. Mating bites aren't a game, Edward, they're permanent scars. I was asking you to marry me."

"We're already married!" This was madness.

"The human way, and this wouldn't have undermined that ceremony in any way. Couples renew their vows all the time." She scooted to the edge of the rock, her eyes pleading with me. "Are vampire customs really so horrible? Is it really so crazy that I don't want to spend an eternity feeling disgusted by what we are?"

"Thirsting for blood is something we should feel disgust over, always. Period!" I shouted. I had never been so angry with her before.

"Thirst for blood is such a small part of it," she protested.

"For you!"

That drew her up short. "You're right, Edward. I'm sorry."

I raked my fingers through my hair. "No mating bites—ever!"

"I got that."

"It's sick, is what it is. Wanting to bite the person you love is sick."

Bella's jaw clenched. "Laying it on a little thick there, Edward? Drinking my blood in reality may not have been pleasurable for me, but I know it was for you, whether you admit it or not. It wasn't just me who was turned on by the idea. You wanted it, too. I know you did—you told me."

"You obviously weren't listening. You don't know what you're talking about. What I like, what I don't like, and what I just put up with because you never stop!"

It was a horrible thing to say. The meanest possible thing I could have said, because it cut right to the heart of what she worried most about in our sex life—that it was uneven, that she wanted too much, asked for too much. That her sexual appetite was a burden.

I had never hit Bella before, but if I had, I would imagine the expression on her face would look very much like the one that was in front of me now. Instantly, the rage inside me vanished, like a smothered fire.

I watched in horror as her eyes fell, unable to meet mine anymore. But the sight of her lap seemed to upset her. She pulled her legs and arms close, covering her nakedness.

"Bella, I…I'm so sorry. I didn't mean that."

She didn't respond and my chest swelled with pain. I waded through the water toward her, but she leaned away from my touch. I didn't know what to do.

"Bella—"

"I want my clothes," she whispered.

Everything was wrong, so wrong, but at least she had given me something to do. I ran, through the surf, at full speed, back to the dock. I didn't care if anyone saw me, naked and inhumanly fast—it didn't matter. Only one thing mattered, and how on earth would I ever make this right again for her?

I returned in under two minutes, our clothing bundled in my arms. Bella had moved to the beach, but she still had her limbs tucked close. I floundered with what to say as I offered her the dress, cardigan, and wedge sandals.

But she looked up at me when she took them. I braced myself as she opened her mouth. "I'm sorry, Edward." I shook my head, but she continued. "I've been pushing your boundaries a lot, and especially tonight. We've had a lot of big conversations lately, and even when they got tense, we found a way through. I was so excited to be seeing other sides of you, to be showing you parts of myself that I had never really found the courage to let out, that…I lost sight of things maybe. Some stuff should just be private. I should have backed off. I could see how uncomfortable you were, but I kept going. I'm sorry."

I fell to my knees in front of her. "Bella, it was me. I screwed up. I lost my temper, and I lashed out at you. I didn't mean anything I yelled at you. Any of it."

She nodded, but was no longer meeting my eyes.

Bella reached for her dress, and I looked away, understanding that she wanted privacy. I dressed quickly, facing the waves. The dark of the night sky was suddenly heavy. I heard her begin to walk back toward the city, and I joined her, keeping pace. She gave me an awkward smile, but we did not touch. Once, I reached for her hand, but she folded her arms before I made contact. I wasn't sure if that was deliberate or if she was in her own world. Regardless, I didn't try again.

We reached my Volvo at 4:27, the streets of Port Angeles deserted, every building we passed silent but for sleeping heartbeats.

When I turned the ignition key, a dam in me burst. "Bella?"

She looked at me.

"I love you." I tried to put everything I meant by that into the words as though my life depended on it. Because it did. My life was looking at me from the passenger seat.

She said it back. "I love you."

"Are we okay?"

Bella extended her hand and I took it. She nodded.

I held her hand as we drove home. But we weren't okay, and we both knew it.

Author's Note: Oof. I hope you guys are still with me after this one. I'll fix it—I promise. I won't leave them here, but the next couple of chapters are going to be rough.

When I Googled what movies would have been in theaters in March of 2008, there were a few options, but I like the idea of Alice being into dance movies and dragging other people to them, so I went with Step Up 2: The Streets. Besides, that final dance is the shit. Also, Edward and Jasper are a-holes. Obviously, there is no such thing as watching Dirty Dancing too many times.