And back to our regularly scheduled program.
He whispers his pleas against my skin, running his lips down my face. My forehead. My eyes. My cheeks. The very tip of my nose. "Come back to me," he says over and over, each hushed word a breath across my will to stay buried in my mind. Where it's safe. Where it's happy. Where Emmett and I laugh and play and live. Together.
"Bella. Bella. Bella."
Fighting back into consciousness is like swimming through mud. I can't see where I'm going. Up and down have no meaning. And no matter how hard I push and pull, it feels as if I'm not moving. As if giving up and laying back would be so much easier than fighting for something I'll never obtain.
"Come back to me."
If it isn't for him. Him with the eyes so green. Him with the smile so crazy. Him with the gaze so deep, so intense, saying so much that even the right words wouldn't be able to hold their meaning. He's worth it. He's worth the ache in my arms and legs, the burn in my eyes, the pain it takes to come back into the real world.
His kisses. Both soft and demanding. Pressing against mine as his fingers pull me closer. Our breaths shared until we're both gasping. For air. For each other. Worth it.
Holding onto his shoulders as he holds onto my hips. Rolling forward and backward with each push and pull of his. Feeling him grow so hard as I grow so wet. Worth it.
The look on his face as he waits for me to fall. The smile he gives me when I recover from the pleasure. His head thrown back when he finally lets go. Worth it.
Lips brush against my own. Once. Twice. Three times. Muttering words I can't understand past the heartbeat in my ears. It takes effort to open my eyes, squinting against the streak of light shooting across the room from the cracked doorway. I smile up at the blur above me, weaving my fingers through his hair when he leans down for another kiss.
"Edward?"
"Bella. Bella. Bella."
His fingertips play at the hem of my shirt, smoothing against trembling skin before sliding under all that beige cloth. I freeze for half a second. He's never gone under clothes. Never risked going too far. Never tempted himself with something he wouldn't let himself have no matter how much I offered.
"Edward?"
"Bella. Bella. Bella."
The blur straightens out into hard lines and aching hearts and that's when the nightmare begins. Blue eyes greet me. Blond hair caresses me. Skin too pale hovers above me. And lips more pink than rust pucker for another kiss. I turn my head at the last second, hating when he brushes against my cheek.
"Stop."
"It's okay, Isabella. I won't hurt you."
His hand travels higher, fingertips tracing the underside of my breasts. I cringe away, scooting across the mattress, but he stops me with a hand on my waist.
"Hale…"
"I'm sorry. I'll be quick."
His hand retreats from my shirt, and I have a few brief moments of relief before he's grabbing at my pants, pulling at the elastic waistline until they are just past my hips. I yelp, struggling in his hold, attempting to roll away. He grunts when I slap his chest in my escape, his fingers tightening around beige until his knuckles are white.
"Please! Stop!"
My world blurs again for the same amount of time it takes Hale to twist me around, bending my body over the bed, my knees scrapping against the cold floor. "I'm sorry, Isabella. It's my job. I have to."
He yanks at my clothes, jerking my body around while keeping me pinned to the mattress with a palm pressed between my shoulder blades. When the cool air touches my bare skin, I cry, rubbing my tears into the sheets.
"Help!" I yell though it comes out more as a whimper, the sound dying in the dark. "Edward!"
"I'm so sorry," he says, again, pressing his naked lower half against mine. I can feel him growing where he's pushing with his fingers. "Fuck. I knew you'd be tight."
I stretch my arms, grabbing at the other end of the mattress, pulling against his hold. "You don't have to do this."
"Yes, I do. He'll know if I don't." He's hard against me, rubbing his dick between my legs. "Christ! That feels good."
I scream so loud, hoping it rivals Screeching Jane. I scream so loud I can hear the echo down the hall. I scream so loud, waiting for help, despairing when it doesn't come. In this prison, screams in the middle of the night aren't out of the ordinary.
"What's going on here?"
I turn my head toward the door, scraping my face against the rough sheet as Hale's weight on me doesn't allow for a lot of movement. Alice's silhouette stands in the doorway, her palm flat against the slammed open door.
Hale reacts as fast as she flies across the room in her rage. She throws him back, his hands catching his fall, his dick waving in the air. I pull at my pants, crawling on the floor until I'm pressed into the wall, watching as she stands over his body, her hands clenched into fists, tears streaming down her cheeks.
He gulps as we both wait for her wrath to spew out in words. Instead, she twists her head, glaring at me over her shoulder, her eyes shooting so much hostility in my direction. "This is all your fault."