AN: Second chapter, which earns the M rating. Don't be too hard on Edward, he's confused and angry.

Thanks to MeteorOnA MoonlessNight who took time from her busy writing schedule and to SarcasticBimbo who beta's for many others for their assistance.

Read, enjoy and review if you can find it in your heart to let me know how you like it.

S.M. still owns Twilight and I am so glad she gave us this wonderful world.

Summary

It doesn't matter when I live my life, as long as it's with you.

Chapter 2

Bella

By Friday I had managed to put the box of treasures out of my mind during the day, but each night that week as my head hit the pillow, my dreams were full of Edward. Every morning I gave myself a stern talking to. This man, no matter how fascinated I was with him, was long gone and I would never meet him, and to be honest, my time would be better spent getting out there and meeting people. I'd never find a life partner unless I made some effort.

To that end, when my colleague Angela invited me to a local bar, I agreed. I was determined to take that step into the future. After a quick journey home and a change of clothes, I took a taxi back to meet up with them. Angela had also invited a few of her friends and although I was a little shy initially, I warmed up to them after a couple of drinks. They were a good bunch and I ended up imbibing a little more than I would normally, even dropping my inhibitions long enough to make out with Mike Newton, one of the IT guys from work. He was nice, but that was all. He didn't set me on fire and that, if I was honest with myself, was what I was really looking for; passion and heat and fire!

Refusing a taxi ride home with him, I gently extricated myself from his embrace, and took my own cab back home; a little drunk, but happy. Entering my darkened house, I switched on the living room lamps and found myself delving back into the box again. I emptied it of the photographs and the letters, finding a flat container at the bottom underneath everything else.

I washed up and changed for bed, and returned to the living room. Taking the container from the box, I leaned back on the sofa, running my fingers over the top of the smooth leather case. It was oblong in shape and around four inches deep, a deep, rich burgundy in color, and cool to the touch. Touching it, I felt a tremble—something I was sure didn't come from me. Without further ado, I gently unlatched the case and lifted the hinged lid, revealing its contents.

Nestled in blood red silk, I found a very beautiful ladies vanity set. It looked as if it was made from real silver, ornately decorated, and shining like new in my hands. I lifted a delicate comb out first, marvelling over its construction. Next came the brush; it was in pristine condition and looked as if it had never been used. The final piece was a hand mirror, which reflected the lamp light around the room.

Checking over each of the pieces, I discovered words inscribed on the back of the mirror and brush, along with the same inscription along the spine of the comb. I recognized them and went back to the pile of journals, flicking through them to find the last one. The words Esme Cullen had written on the final page were exactly the same as those on each piece of the vanity set. I wondered why she would have done that; the words resonated through me unexpectedly as I uttered them aloud.

The tiredness of the end of a long day, helped along by the drinks I had swallowed throughout the evening, allowed sleep to capture me, and I drifted off with the mirror in my hand, muttering the words engraved on the back and now in my mind.

Startled awake by the sound of the door smashing against the wall, I jerked up in shock, watching as he roared into the room, his eyes flashing to mine. A little daunted, I stood and put the sofa between us, unsure of his intentions. He stalked to me, growling under his breath and muttering something about ... 'get it over and done with', before leaping over the barrier in front of him.

Part of me was admiring his physique, the other almost afraid of him, but underneath all that, his low growl and almost furious expression were turning me on. Nothing had done that for years, if, in fact, anything ever had. The feelings rushing through me were absolutely nothing like those I felt with either of my previous boyfriends.

Without a word, he grabbed for me, ripping my nightdress from neck to hem, exposing my breasts and nipples to the cool air of the bedroom. They hardened immediately, drawing his attention. His mouth descended on mine, invading and bruising wherever he touched. His fingers reached for my breasts and tightened on my nipples, just this side of painful, pinching and pulling while plundering his tongue inside my mouth. His leg found its way between my legs, pushing against me, forcing them apart.

Without thought, my arms wrapped around his neck, followed by my legs around his waist. I could feel his cock, flesh covered steel, rubbing against my pussy, now wet with want. He rushed forward and my back hit the bedroom wall. He didn't stop, reaching down to undo his trousers and I was in no doubt that he was committed to taking me whether I wanted it or not, but want it I did. I had never wanted something as much as this; never.

My head was muddled and I had no time to think; no time to deny my needs. My soul had recognized him and my body was thrumming with desire, my heart beating a mile a minute. I felt my face flush and the heat travelled over my skin, which pebbled wherever it touched him.

I could smell the whiskey on his breath, and while he was definitely drunk, his eyes were clear and such a dark mesmerizing green that I couldn't look away. His gaze held mine, his hands travelling down between us as I leaned backwards, allowing him access to every part of me. His long fingers slid between my folds, first finding my clit, circling and rubbing, then plunging inside me. I cried out, widening my legs to give his fingers room, bucking against his hand.

I had no idea what he was thinking, and to be honest I wasn't doing much of that, either. Now, I was no virgin, but it had been some time since I had sex with anything other than my vibrator or my hand—don't judge, I'm a normal twenty-two year old—and then his cock impaled me in one hard thrust.

I gasped and he stilled for a moment, and I was suddenly aware of just how large he was; a great deal bigger than either of my boyfriends and definitely nothing like Bob-the-vibrator.

"Oh, God, oh God, oh God," I whispered, moaning and panting in his ear, he obviously took that as permission to continue, starting a relentless pace of hard thrusting. Normally, or I should say never, had I been able to come from direct penetration, but somehow, within minutes, the coil in my belly tightened beyond the point of no return. His cock repeatedly struck that place inside me that I knew existed, but had never found, and before I knew it, I was over the edge and screaming in pleasure, like never before.

A few hard, full body thrusts and a growled 'fuck' later, he stilled. His head connected with my shoulder and I could hear his harsh breaths in my ear along with the frantic beating of his heart, matching mine.

After a few silent minutes he drew back, allowing my still jelly-like legs to slide to the floor. It's just as well there was a wall behind me or I'm sure I would have fallen. His eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared; he looked as if he was about to breath fire.

"You're not a virgin!"

I had to grin at that, "Well, if I had been, I'm certainly not one now."

He stepped back, tucking that impressive cock back in his pants. That was when I realized he was dressed in old-fashioned clothes. Interesting,was all I heard from my inner voice.

"I'm Bella," I murmured, "And you're Edward Cullen. How am I here? You're alive."

All normal questions to me, but to him I must have sounded mad.

"What do you mean, you're Bella? I thought your name was Mary-Alice." He paced in front of me. "And I know who I am. I am your husband and you had better explain why you are not the virgin you should have been." His gaze darkened, "What lies have I been told?" Not waiting for an answer, he grabbed me by the arm, pulling me back towards the sofa, where he shoved me onto it harshly. "Be quick, girl. I want the truth, now!"

For a split second I was almost afraid, but my anger quickly overshadowed it.

"What the hell? You may think me your wife, but it was not me you married. I have no idea who this 'Mary-Alice' is, and as for my virgin status; it's none of your damned business."

Looming over me, Edward's eyes flashed at me. "You are my wife, and you will obey me. That was your promise a few hours ago. Now, I will ask you once again. Who did you give yourself to?"

I stood sharply in front of him, causing him to have to take a step back. I stepped toward him, and in spite of our height difference, looked directly into his eyes.

"I repeat; that is none of your business. I did not marry you, and even if I had, there would be no obeying. Where the fuck am I?"

He hesitated a few seconds and the anger in his eyes faded, with a contemplative look in his eyes. Taking a deep breath, he spoke, "Here ... in my father's house, soon to be mine, in Chicago. In case you don't remember, your name is Mary-Alice Isabella Cullen née Brandon. Our marriage was arranged by your father and mine ..." he smirked, "... and I assure you, obey was definitely promised along with a number of other things."

His gaze travelled heatedly down my body as I finally remembered the state of my clothes. Suddenly embarrassed, I felt the heat rise in my face, and pulled the remains of my nightdress across my breasts covering my skin from his lascivious perusal, which was stupid, considering what I had just allowed him to do to me. At that thought, my body shivered deliciously and desire swept through me once again. He must have seen something in my eyes, and I saw the same thing rising in his as he yanked me roughly into his arms, punishing my lips with more bruising kisses.

"Well since this is my wedding night..." he murmured against my lips, allowing me to breathe as he rained hot, wet kisses, creating a line of fire from my ear to my collar bone. I didn't; no, I couldn't, resist, and allowed him to walk me backwards until my thighs hit the bed. Hoisting me up, his body followed mine; covering me with his weight. My lips met his as I drew him down towards me, moaning at the feel of his hardening cock between my legs, accepting him into the cradle of my hips. He rocked and rubbed the tip of his erection against me, only the the fabric of his trousers between us.

His grip softened, allowing me to push him onto his back and straddle him. Leaning away from him for a moment, I dragged what remained of my nightgown off, throwing it on the floor. His eyes darkened with lust as he followed suit with his shirt. He lay back, smirking as I gaped at his torso, tight with muscles. I inched back until I was resting on his legs and reached for the buttons on his trousers, freeing his cock. I took him in my hand, pumping the soft skin over the hard steel underneath, spreading the lubricating pre-cum.

He groaned loudly and I allowed myself to be pushed off so he could remove his trousers. Before he could follow through and trap me under him, I straddled him again, sinking hard and fast down onto his full length.

A harsh, whispered, 'fuck' fell from his lips and he bucked his hips. Placing my hands on his chest, all I could do was hold on as he thrust into me; hard, over and over again until I came, screaming and shaking, collapsing like a limp rag on his chest. Almost immediately, Edward followed me, leaving our thundering hearts skin-to-skin, coming down from the most amazing high I had ever felt.

Edward pulled the covers up over us, and I felt his body wrap around mine, warming me through. No matter what was to come, I was more content than I could remember having been before.

A shaft of bright sunlight struck my face as I surfaced from sleep to wakefulness. I struggled to open my eyes, but memories of last night invaded my head. The space beside me was cool, letting me know that Edward had been gone for some time. I stretched, feeling the delicious ache of muscles well-used, and despite the roughness of our coupling, I didn't regret it for one second.

Needing to pee, I took my first real look around. Wherever I was, it was definitely not my living room, the last place I remember being before this insane adventure began, if that's what you could call it. I wandered around the room checking out the furniture and the clothing stored in the drawers and wardrobe. There were no women's clothes anywhere I could see, so all I could do was to claim one of the shirts, all of which smelled of him.

Behind a screen, I glimpsed a doorway which opened to show a bathroom, containing the usual basin and toilet but no shower. I used the facility and splashed some water on my face before heading to the window back in the bedroom. Gazing down at a courtyard, I saw Edward hugging a woman, a beautiful woman, before mounting a horse and following another man through an arch and then disappearing out of sight.

A multitude of feelings rushed through me; pleasure at seeing him again, jealousy at the obvious affection for the woman still standing and looking at the direction he had gone, and then there was sadness and abandonment; he hadn't returned to me before he left. Suddenly, above all, I was angry! Asshole; how dare he leave without speaking to me after last night!

Turning around, I searched for something to put on other than his shirt. I couldn't exactly leave the room dressed like this, especially with no panties. Anger brewing more with every minute, I marched up and down the length of the room, furious at the situation I found myself in and most of all at him; Edward Cullen.

I decided that come hell or high water, no matter how I was dressed, I was determined to find someone to speak to, or at least someone who could find me something to wear that didn't leave my ass hanging out. Stomping around the room, my eyes fell on a mirror just under the edge of the sofa; that mirror. And suddenly, I was curious.

Why was that here?

How did it get here?

The last thing I remembered was reading the inscription on the back, before I fell asleep; in my living room.

Questions filled my head.

Where was I?

How did I get here, wherever here was?

Did I really do all that last night; with Edward Cullen?

How was he here?

I had no answers, and I wouldn't find them procrastinating here in this room. I bent down to pick up the mirror; no time like the present to take a look at the haystack my hair must resemble. As I stood up, a wave of dizziness rushed through my head and I closed my eyes, waiting for it to subside.

Second by second, I felt worse and worse, and with blackness threatening, I fell heavily onto the sofa, trying not to pass out. With the room spinning nauseatingly every time I tried to open my eyes, eventually I succumbed to the darkness.

** Irrevocable**