"Wake up," A harsh, wind chime voice sounded from across the room. I knew immediately who it was. The voice was terribly, terribly familiar.
"Rosalie," I said.
"Who else? Edward had to leave, and since he did not want you to run away again, he assigned me to watch you. He knew of our relationship." I sighed and opened my eyes. She looked as young as the last time I had seen her. Something strange was going on in this house. She had been one of the volunteers at the shelter when I was seven. Needless to say, it hadn't been a pleasant experience.
"He will be back soon, though, so we can both stop suffering."
"Why would you be suffering? You enjoy seeing people in pain." I said. She wrinkled her nose and pointed at the end table near the chair Edward had been seated at last night, watching me suffer.
"There's your food. I heard people had to eat, so I brought it up when breakfast was made."
"You would not know, would you?"
"Know what?"
"Never mind," I said as I got up- very painfully, I might add- and snatched the plate of food up and sat in the chair. She stared at me from her seat across the room as I ate. It was unnerving, to say the least.
Finally, thankfully, I heard the door near me open and Edward walked in. I was grateful,truly grateful, for the interruption because I was close to the point of screaming. My hands shook ever so slightly.
"Goodbye, Rose," Edward said with a crooked smile that made him seem actually nice. "Thank you for watching her for me."
"You are very welcome, Edward." She responded with a smile, and left, but not before giving me one last glare. I barely suppressed a shudder of contempt.
The worst part was that he started to stare silently, seated on the bed instead of one of the chairs. I felt the urge to scream come again.
I tried to eat as slow as I could, but I was hungry, so I ate, still. Eventually I had to face what I knew would happen.
I put my plate back down on the table, trying to hide the shaking in my hands. I was cowardly, but I would never let him see that.
He opened his arms immediately, a silent command. I obeyed him, mostly out of lack of inspiration to fight back. I was exhausted, and I hoped that if I let him do whatever he wanted, he would let me sleep out the aching in my limbs.
Life would never let me have what I wanted.
He turned me around and tore of the remains of my already ragged dress. I was left with only my underwear on.
"You were very good at that, last night." He said, his deep velvet voice husky, causing mixed reactions within me, "I believe you deserve repayment for that." I had only a half second to consider that, to wonder what he meant by repayment, before he started.
He tore off my underwear, and immediately slid a finger into me. I gasped, caught off guard, and tried not to flinch. His soft laugh also surprised me. I wondered what he found amusing.
"I see Alice has gotten to you. Don't be afraid to react, though, because I always destroy the pets I get bored with." I shuddered, and he laughed again.
His finger started to move in me. It was very uncomfortable, in this position, but a jolt of pleasure found its way through my body, causing my breath to catch and my head to fall forward, onto his chest. He smelled wonderful, though I couldn't place what it was that he smelled like.
His moving finger was even more uncomfortable now, but I could not care much past the pleasure pulsing through my veins. I whimpered. I had to fight to remember why I should hate this man. I could not.
A moan escaped my throat, and I heard his breath catch. He turned sideways on the bed, laying me back against the pillows and the blanket, and added a finger. Another wave of pleasure shocked me, and I moaned again, unable to help myself. I heard something like a low growl in the back of his throat before I lost ability to focus on my surroundings.
Wave after wave of pleasure jolted through me, causing me to shout out something even I could not make out. My hands snapped up, clasped onto his hair, trying to make him keep going, trying to make him stop, the mixed reactions jolting through me before I laid in an exhausted on the bed, not wanting to move for forever.
But he was already ready for more. His eyes were half glazed over, with passion or with hate, I could not tell. But he obviously wanted something. I released his head, and slid my fingers under his shirt. Anything for more of that, Anything, just please, I wanted more.
His eyes snapped into focus now, and I begged him with my eyes to continue doing whatever that was. Instead, he reached and grabbed my wrists out from under his shirt, saying, "You really do not want to do that." He got up from the bed and swept out of the room. I lay still for a few more minutes before sliding under the covers and wrapping the blankets around me, telling myself to sleep, and try to ignore the sting of rejection.