Sixteen

Wrapped in a bath towel, Bella wiped the steam from the long bathroom mirror so that she could get a better look at herself. Her hair, of course, had lost its bouncy curls and it hung, wet and limp, down her back. She inspected her face, surprised to find that it appeared almost normal, except for her slightly swollen lips and red-rimmed eyes, her face looked no differently than it had yesterday; it showed no evidence of the passionate violence that had just occurred three doors down.

The only sign that she was no longer the same girl that she was yesterday, could be found in the depths of her eyes; in the amber gaze was a shadow of doubt that had not been there before; doubts about Edward and doubts about herself.

Unwrapping the bath towel, she peered at her body, turning this way and that, she briefly remembered performing a similar movement when she'd come back from the club, just an hour or so before. An hour and yet a lifetime ago, back when she was still unaware of the depths she and Edward would sink. Her body hurt and her eyes scanned her body, looking for redness or tenderness, or signs of bruises to come, but there weren't any. The wounds were all inside she guessed, as she dried off and went to the corner bedroom to put on a nightgown and get into bed.

With stiffened limbs she pulled back the cover and collapsed onto the bed exhausted, bone tired and aching from the inside out. The effort it took to turn onto her side to ease the ache in her lower back was akin to trying to climb Everest, even that slight movement was too much and she let out a pained little cry. Her brain felt too swollen to fit inside her skull and the mother of all headaches took up residence behind her eyes, her lips ached, sore from the pressure Edward had exerted first with his hand and later with his mouth.

As she lay there staring at the ceiling, she took mental inventory of her aches and pains. Her nipples were raw, she felt sure that at some point Edward had bitten her hard there. Her ribs ached; was it from the struggle, or was it from him pinning her down? Her hips, her thighs and even her toes hurt. Touching her hand to her aching pussy, she noted that it felt raw and tender, inside and out. She wondered if Edward had bruised her cervix, she could feel it throbbing.

Bella covered her face with both hands. How does a person deal with this situation? What the hell just happened? Edward frightened her, forced her, hurt her, then pleasured her and she liked it, loved it, all of it. It was the best sex, ever, she could still feel him, or the echo of him moving in her, and she trembled again, overcome with a delicious weakness in her limbs. His passion, his ferocity fed something dark in her, a darkness she'd never suspected was there. Even now, as she lay here in pain, she felt a giddy excitement when she thought about how angry he was, how completely he had lost his control. And she did that to him. She. Made. Him. Lose. It.

She felt powerful as she remembered how his face looked when he was fingering her, how intently he sought a response, and how excited he was when she gave it to him. Was she sick? She felt like a dirty, dirty whore. A sob rose up in her throat and she began to cry.

#

Edward lay there, amidst the damp sweat soaked sheets, too dog-tired to get up. The smell of Bella lingered on his skin and permeated the room, the smell of her hair, her subtle violet perfume, and her pussy. Oh God, he was drenched in her pussy smell, he brought his fingers to his mouth and tasted her there too; how had he ever thought that he could let her go? She was his; his to keep, his to hold, his to mold. But what if she no longer wanted him? After seeing him at his worst, what if she decided to leave? He shoved the thought away, she was his, and he would convince her of this, whatever it took, he would convince her.

He got up from his bed and went to take a shower. His head ached and his soul felt bruised. How could he have done what he did? Why didn't he stop when he had the chance? So many times in the course of the last hour he could have walked away, he had countless opportunites to end the interaction but he didn't. He had never been so angry before, at least not with a woman, not even with Gracie.

Edward never played games; love was not on offer, and women usually accepted his terms. Yet, after a while, some wanted more; sometimes becoming sulky or tearful, sometimes trying to make him jealous. When women started playing games, withholding sex and flirting with other men, he would simply move on to the next one, without a second thought. But it was different with Bella, just as he had feared it would be. He was so fixated on her, and wanting her, and wanting her for himself that it had been only a matter of time before he made a mistake. She'd had lunch with Jake, and flirted with Jake, and wanted to spend her time with Jake; and he became racked by a desire to erase Jake. He had to make her see him, want him and only him, make her forget everyone else. He'd had to have her then and there; whether or not she wanted him. But he had been so brutal in the way he went about it, holding her down using his weight and his strength; that now he didn't even want to think back on it, his mind recoiled.

Gratefully he stood under the hot water delivered forcefully by the shower jets, hoping to wash away not only their sweat and blood but his transgressions against her. If only it were that easy …. "Bless me father for I have sinned…" The soap stung his wounds, he was scratched up all over; his back was covered in deep gouges and he gingerly rinsed off. His scalp ached from the many times Bella had pulled his hair, it was a miracle she hadn't left him bald.

He thought of her and the way she had fought him. "Bella, oh Bella." He hurt Bella. He never wanted to hurt Bella. She was so soft, so vulnerable, so giving and sweet. He remembered the Sunday night when she soothed him, and the 'Italian Night' she had planned; she always did things to please him. Why had he done it? Why had he hurt her? He remembered the tears in her eyes, her begging him not to do it, and he felt like the cruellest bastard in the world. She had been so scared, of him.

After he showered he put on a pair of pajama bottoms and walked to the kitchen, he desperately needed some water and ibuprofen. He drank three, hoping they would help.

#

Bella had the same goal, she went to the kitchen in search of the first aid kit for relief from the throbbing drumbeat in her head. When she got there Edward was leaning heavily against the sink, with his back to the door. She inhaled sharply, noting the scratches on his neck, shoulders and back; battle scars. When he turned around she saw the dark bruise on his left cheekbone where she had hit him. Silently he poured her a glass of water as she reached for the bottle of medication on the counter. She looked at him over the rim of the cup as she swallowed two tablets.

All of a sudden his face crumpled and his eyes glistened with tears. "Fuck. I'm sorry. Sorry, sorry, sorry." He dropped to his knees in front of her and leaned his head into her belly, grasping her around her waist.

She stood stock still. Shocked and dazed. Why was Edward on his knees? Why was he in tears? What should she do? Should she pull away? Tell him it's okay? Should she tell him she's sorry too?" She had no idea what to do. The only thing she did know was she didn't want to talk about it now. It was still so fresh, so vivid, so confusing. Right now she needed oblivion.

Finally his voice scratched out of his throat. "Bella, please say something. Please."

"What do you want me to say?" her voice was so hoarse she barely recognized it.

"Anything. Say anything at all. Say you hate me. Say you want me dead. Say you'll never forgive me. Say I'm the creep you feared I was. Say you want to go home. Say you never want to see me again. So I know where I stand. Just don't stay in your head, please?"

She swallowed hard and looked at the dark brush of his hair against her white nightgown. "My body hurts. I feel bruised inside and out. My eyes feel as though they'll never stop aching. And I am so tired I don't think I can walk." she sobbed, wiping her hand over her eyes. She sagged against the fridge.

"Do you want me to carry you to your bed?"

She nodded. "Yes." She whispered through trembling lips.

Edward tucked one arm under her knees and the other behind her shoulder blades and lifted her up gently into his arms, "Bella, baby. I'm so sorry." And then he carried her down the hallway to the corner bedroom. First he put her to sit down on the edge of the bed and moved the sheet aside, then he lay her down and covered her, tucking her in as though she were a child. He knelt next to the bed, reaching for her hands and holding them between both of his; then he spoke softly to her, confessing his sins.

"Bella, I'm sorry. Really, sorry that I lost control and did this to you. I don't know why I did it, Bella. I never meant to hurt you. I'm sorry for every horrible thing I said. And I am so very sorry for frightening you and violating your trust in me, and for" his voice broke and he whispered, "raping you and hurting you and forcing you." He closed his eyes, and pressed the tips of her fingers to his heart, holding them there.

Bella's heart thudded with shame. She was ashamed that she was withholding the secret of her enjoyment from him, feeling like a faker, pretending to be the victim. Ashamed that she was so immature that she had wanted to make him jealous when she showed up at Solstice. Ashamed that she was allowing him take the blame for both of them. "It wasn't rape, Edward. I…I…wanted you, very badly. I participated, so it can't be rape, can it?"

He shook his head. "Just because I made you like it, doesn't make it right, Bella. I said terribly mean things to you. I put my hands on you, when you begged and cried for me not to. I know saying sorry is not enough. But, God, Bella, I am sorry."

Bella didn't want to do this back and forth, arguing about whether or not it was rape. She just didn't want to think about it anymore. If he continued to talk about how sorry he was she felt sure that she would start screaming and never stop. "Edward, can you lie down next to me and just hold me, please? Please don't talk about it. I need to forget and feel…normal again."

"Are you sure, Bella?"

"Yes, very sure."

"All right, I'll be right back." Edward went to turn off all the lights in the house and came back to join her in the bed. He pulled her tenderly into his arms, stroking her hair and cheek, running his thumb along the arch of her brows soothing her into sleep. He gave her gentle touches and he wished that he had given those soft touches to her an hour earlier, instead of hurting her. She deserved better than him, he admitted to himself, after all he was no better than the perps he had arrested when he was on the force. He was the bad guy, a monster. And when Bella curled her soft body into his, he felt even worse.

Bella breathed deeply and soon fell asleep in his arms. Her cheek was on his chest and one arm and leg were draped across his body. Edward lay there for hours looking up at the ceiling as the tears rolled from the corner of his eyes to wet the pillow under him.

#

Bella woke up in Edward's arms for the first time ever, he was still asleep. Bella, was so stiff, her back, her hips and her thighs ached. Her headache was gone but her sore lips still lingered, a souvenir of the forceful nature of the previous night's passion.

Fortunately, Bella had had a long, deep, dreamless sleep, untroubled by the cares of real life. Feeling refreshed in mind, if not in body, she lay next to Edward and reflected on the events of the night before with some measure of clarity. She saw the incident as having taken place in stages; a series of actions and responses that had taken them both to the feverish heights and the emotional depths of brutal, rough sex.

Edward had over-powered her so easily, that in those first minutes she had been truly frightened, aware of how physically vulnerable she was. For the first time in her life she became aware that she was indeed a member the weaker sex, capable of being taken against her will. But then when he had touched her and she had become aroused and yearning, her fear had waned and it had been replaced by a deep seated excitement that his desire for her was greater than his self-control. And when he had made her ask for him to fuck her and insisted that she take his cock, she felt that he had shifted the power to her. Lying next to Edward and listening to him breathe, she was aware that maybe she was trying to gloss over it. Maybe she was trying to put a positive spin on what had happened, but she knew for certain that Edward hadn't raped her, he had sought her consent, and she had given it in every way.

Her desire for him was such that she was almost always ready for him, in a perpetual state of wet whenever she was around him. Even now, sore and aching she hungered to feel him moving in her.

She rolled over and half lay on top of him. His face was so endearingly vulnerable as he slept. Oh yes, she was desirous of him, hopelessly besotted, a slave to her need. Her fingers fluttered gently on his face, and she bent to gently kiss the bruise on his cheek and the scratches on his neck. Sliding down a little she kissed his flat nipples, pulling each one into her mouth, sucking them gently. Just a little further down, scattering open mouthed kisses over the muscled flat of his abdomen, she skimmed the fine auburn-blonde hair around his navel and moved lower to the prize.

Gingerly she pulled one strand of the drawstring on his pajama bottoms, loosening and then easing them down. His cock was beautiful, even as it lay there flaccid and soft. She licked and sucked him as she had wanted to do for a long time. She looked up and saw that Edward was awake and looking down at her as her tongue reached out and laved his silky flesh. He was getting harder and she reveled in her ability to arouse him so easily.

"Bella." he tilted his hips up and sighed, closing his eyes while she took him semi-hard into her mouth and pleasured him. Encircling the base of his cock with her hand she pumped as she pressed her tongue into the slit at the tip, then licked and swirled it around the head. Edward moaned and murmured "Yeah, baby." His cock swelled and stiffened in her palm and opening wide she took him completely into her wet, warm mouth, swallowing him as far down as she could go. Pulling back up with an intense suck, she repeated the motion; her eyes fixing on him when he groaned out, "Fuck, yes. Look at me baby." The more she sucked him, the wetter she became, she writhed and squeezed her thighs together the heat was building.

"Stop it baby." Edward reached for her arms and pulled her up beside him and laid her on her back. He brought his face inches above hers, looking into her eyes he whispered hoarsely, "Bella, why are you doing this? Why are you trying to please me, and not hating my guts?" His face was drawn and tired, his voice was … despondent.

Bella's voice was urgent and low, she ran her hand tenderly down his cheek as she looked up into his sad grey eyes. "Because I want you to know that nothing's changed for me. I know you were brutal, angry and mean, but I know why and I forgive you. I don't even know if it's my role to forgive you. I know you were very jealous of Jake as I wanted you to be. I set out to make you angry, I wanted to teach you a lesson, make you do something. I did use him to push your buttons. And I'm sorry I did that. I had no idea what it would lead to.

And last night, last night was a revelation. You did frighten me and at first I was hating you, so much, but when you touched me and I responded, I forgot about fear and I only knew the feeling, the feeling of wanting you in me. And when we made love it was the best feeling I ever had. For the first time I felt as though I owned my body, I felt as though I knew what it was to give over to something bigger.

I know you're angry with yourself, and you've apologized but Edward it was not rape. It was you and me and anger and wanting to bury ourselves in each other. And in the light of day, with it behind us, I want you to hear me. Edward, I want you to know that I still want you and I still want you to want me. Please say you still want me." Her voice cracked. "Please."

His head fell to hers, their foreheads touching as he let out a deep breath. They stayed like that for many seconds until Edward started kissing her breasts and moved his hand down to rub the soft, wet, point in between her thighs. "Bella", he whispered into her skin, "You are exactly what I want. Everything I want, have wanted, will want." Then he pulled her under him and moved to kneel in between her thighs as she spread them for him. He sighed and then he took his cock and pushed into her and lay still, not moving, barely breathing, watching her, watching him.

Her eyelids fluttered and she looked towards the table. "Condom, Edward. You forgot the condom." She reminded him.

He shook his head."Not anymore. I trust you, and if you want it, it'll be only you and me from now on," he replied. "Okay?"

"Oh, yes." She nodded and sighed into him.

He felt her flesh wrap around him like a glove. Heated flesh in heated flesh, he wanted no barriers between the two of them. He needed to touch every inch of her, to stay there and enjoy the feel of this girl-woman who was all his. But in mere moments, his eager body betrayed him and started to move and her hips rose up to meet his. He felt her delicious waves release and tighten with each thrust. He almost lost control but held back, each time his body wanted to come, he suppressed the urge. He thrust rhythmically, only increasing the speed when she started to arch her back. He bent down and sucked her rosy little nipple into his mouth, rolling the tender point around his tongue. And then he heard her breathing change and the catch of breath in the back of her throat and he knew she was in ecstasy and he wanted to join her there.

Her eyes were half opened and he could see her pleasure and feel the waves deepen and surround him. She pulsed uncontrollably and sunk back onto the pillows. Then he didn't hold back any longer. He let his eyes feast on her beautiful face, and let his body enjoy the feel of the bones of her hips meeting his and the heated flesh surrounding him. He could smell her perfumed warmth and he bent to kiss her and absorb the taste of her breath into his mouth. His heart was beating in his ears, his brain and his hips. She was panting and making the satisfied noises he loved to hear and he felt the hard clench deep in his groin and then he released his heat into her and felt as close to her as he ever had.

As he lay on her soft, sweet body, and he heard the thunder of her heartbeats in his ears he almost told her how much he wanted to love her, but stopped himself. He didn't have the right to talk to her about a maybe love when Saturday he was going back to Honolulu. Back to see his wife, Gracie, whom he already loved dearly.