She was standing across the room, her back to him.

It was all so overwhelming, this room full of nothing but her. All her secrets were contained here, so many memories layered like dust in the corners. So many nights, as he watched over her while she slept, he had examined the books on her shelves, the photos in frames, the craft projects Bella and Renee had made together in the first few years before Renee moved her daughter to the arid desert life of Arizona.

So many times he had wanted Bella in so many inappropriate and dangerous ways, the way that he wanted her now was no less dangerous than any of the other ways he had ever wanted her.

Her hair was pulled loosely back at the nape of her neck, dark tendrils twining down past her shoulders and falling over where, under her shirt, he could detect the outline of the closure of her bra.

Below that, her waist narrowed and then arched back out over her hips.

Edward stopped breathing.

Her scent had always overpowered him in this room. Standing next to her bed was always the worst - the sheets and pillow and mattress laden with the various components that made up the devastating way she smelled - her shampoo, laundry detergent, soap, lotion... all piled on top of the more subtle fragrances humans did not usually detect - various hormone and pheromone combinations unique only to Bella. The smell of her skin, her mouth, her...

The air in his lungs came out of him in a gust. No, he could not think about that. All the many times he had kissed her, been close to her, wanted to be closer, he had stopped his thoughts just short of imagining that, being more than close, being inside. Being part of her.

But now as his imaginings pushed their way through to his conscious, he found his body responding. Naturally, his body had responded the way it was supposed to when they had been in these type of situations before. But his physiological response coupled with the now immovable fantasy of what it would be like, of an experience of warmth like he had never had, made him entirely a slave to the warm body that was drawing him to the other side of the room.

Silently, swiftly, he crossed the room and stood behind her, not 2 inches from touching her. Her body emanated heat, heat like he had never felt even in the hottest moments of the torturous change from human to immortal, not even the most firey burn of thirst, and not even in the moment of taking a human life, drinking warm liquid lifeforce and taking it inside of him - he knew in that moment of closeness that none of those heats or sensations could ever possibly compare to what he was about to undertake.

He wasn't sure whether Bella knew he was there or not. Slowly, so as not to startle her, he placed one hand against the wall on either side of her. She did not start or gasp, but only looked up from the book in her hand. Her heart beat faster, her breathing increased a little. But her muscles remained relaxed.

He was dying to know what she was thinking. As always. He knew, and was aware that she knew as well, that if he were a hunter and she his prey, he had her without question. She would have been trapped. His arms were like steel bars on either side of her, his reflexes a thousand times faster than hers.

Absently, he wondered about the moments he had missed between Bella and James in the ballet studio. He had seen James' tape, had seen James holding Bella somewhat this way, his body pressed against hers, trapping her between him and the mirrored wall. Edward had even been able to hear the sounds of her heart and her lungs, pounding - terror and adrenaline and hopelessness rushing through her veins.

It both horrified and fascinated him how those sounds, those bodily reponses, could be the same both then and now. He knew Bella loved him, he knew Bella trusted him. But it would never cease to bother him that he had no concrete way of knowing exactly how she felt about anything he did.

Almost as if hearing his thoughts, Bella closed her book and set it on the bedside table. She raised her right hand rested it on his locked elbow, then slowly slid it back towards his shoulder. She leaned her shoulders back against his chest and turned her head towards him, towards his face... She wouldn't have done that if she were afraid of him. She would have stood still, tense, if she did not want him, or if she were afraid he would hurt her. If she were his prey, she would have known he was about to kill her.

Edward lowered his right arm and pressed his hand against her abdomen, lightly pulling her back into him.

Her breathing hitched, then she took one deep breath and shakliy let it out. Her heart sped a little faster. Testing, he pressed his hips against her back. They could both feel his erection between them. Bella didn't move. His hand still on her abdomen, he pressed her backwards and dipped a little, rolling his hips against her, dragging himself softly along her backside.

"Oh my God..." she breathed in a ragged whisper, moving her hand from his shoulder and placing it on top of his, below her navel. She began to push it father down. Edward complied; the heat of her center burned through her jeans, even through the thick cotton weave. He rubbed his hand against her, pressing along the seam of her jeans as he gently bucked his hips into her again from behind.

Even Edward was breathing heavily now, sucking in her scent which had so plagued him when she first entered biology class and tormented him for months thereafter. Now it was like the an oasis in the middle of the desert, and he drank it up like a dying man.

Bella's head was turned toward his, her mouth open as she panted, her lips bright red and wet and open, reaching for his...

Abruptly, perhaps a little too harshly, he turned her around and fell against her, pinning her to the wall and once again one arm on either side of her. His mouth found hers and kissed her hungrily, needily. Bella sighed into his mouth and the taste of her filled him.

Even with much of his weight against her, she pressed the length of her body against his, Edward's erection, intent and screaming for attention, against her abdomen. Bella hitched one leg just slightly so that his thigh was between hers, and the most delicate of moans escaped from her mouth into his as she rubbed herself onto him. Edward's hands came down from the wall, first grazing over her throat (almost stopping at her pulse point) and then grazing over her breasts before pulling her sweater over her head to reveal a light blue cotton bra.

It was just so typically Bella, so practical and comfortable... It was sexier to Edward than any amount of expensive French lace. He reached around her and deftly opened the clasp; Bella pulled it away from her and tossed it over his shoulder without opening her eyes. Edward broke their kiss to see her firm, white breasts spill out over her ribs, pink nipples as erect as he was, the scent of skin never touched by the sun, even in the desert, driving him insane.

He cupped both breasts in his hands, heat burning against his palms and pressed his lips to her neck, only slightly wary of where her heartbeat would go. Bella's head rolled back against the wall for only a moment before her hands went to his own chest, frantically trying to unfasten the buttons of his shirt.

She had only managed the first two before his hands slid down her torso to her lower back and finally cupping her backside, lifting her up and parting her legs. Bella gasped a little in surprise and wrapped her arms around his neck in a self-conscious attempt to support her own weight, but Edward barely even needed one hand to hold her up.

As his body began to rhythmically grind against hers, Edward's mind registered that he had skipped an important step: they would both somehow need to get out of their jeans. In the moment that he considered this, his conscience beckoned once again and reminded him of his earlier question of the ballet studio.

He questioned the mechanics of what they were about to do, or in many ways to his mind, what he was about to do to her, and considered. He could very easily hurt her in so many ways - he could crush her lungs, keep them from expanding... he could very easily shatter her pelvis. He imagined accidentally slamming the back of her head into the wall.

No, this would not do. He would not trap her between a rock and a hard place. Or... two hard places. Two very hard places. Two very very very hard places, as his cock was insistently reminding him... No. He had to stop this. He unintentionally groaned out loud as he separated his mouth from hers. He put his hands back on the wall and dropped his head.

"Bella, I can't..."

"Don't you dare," Bella breathed into his hair. "Edward, I want to, please..." Even if he were able to stop everything else, the kissing and the grinding and the touching, he couldn't stop drinking her in, his chest brushing against her naked breasts every time they inhaled in time. He let out a whine of frustration at her use of please.

"Don't do this to me, Bella-"

"Please, Edward..." She had her hand on the back of his head, grasping at his hair, her hot breath rolling down his shoulder and his back with each gasp, her open hips pressed hard against him. "I need you, please..."

I need you, please. He couldn't ever refuse that. I need you, please. His decision wasn't made, but his body acted without him when she pressed her mouth to his skin where his shoulder and his neck met and he felt her tongue tracing around his collarbone to his throat.

Edward growled and pivoted, letting her fall on her back onto the bed, his hands at the button his jeans before she had even touched the mattress. Bella was hurriedly unfastening her own jeans, but Edward pushed her hands gently away and made faster work of it, then pulled her pants and her cotton underwear down her legs. He stole a glance at her center, the pulsating point from which her scent emanated, now filled with blood and colored the most delicious-looking pink, glittering with her body's natural lubricants. Her fragrance wrapped around him, stronger than the first day they had met in biology (Biology, ironic, he thought absently), caressing him and inviting him. He had to have her.

He fell forward on top of her, catching himself on his forearms and pressed his mouth first to her neck and her collarbone and then caught her mouth with his. When they connected, it was like being inside her already, his tongue darting in and out with the rhythm as he moved against her. Edward groaned into her mouth.

Bella wrapped one leg around his, angling her hips and searching for him. He still had misgivings, but he couldn't stop himself any longer. He had to have her now.

She gasped and made a small cry when he entered her, and he felt her muscles involuntarily tighten at the shock of the cold, and he opened his eyes to make sure she was all right, but her eyes were still clamped shut, her brow furrowed. As if he sensed him watching her, her eyes opened and Edward thought he had never seen them so lovely - pupils dilated, deep and endless.

Her heart was pounding at an irregular interval. But he was having trouble stopping. He placed his lips next to her ear, still rythmically moving in and out of her.

"Are you okay?" he whispered. It hurt her, he knew it did. Even if he didn't have the strength of an Mack truck, she was still a virgin. Her whole body felt so small, her opening so tight around him. Her eyes were closed again. She made only a small gasp in response.

Edward stopped, pulled himself up to look at her face. He had hurt her, he was sure of it.

Bella grabbed his upper arm and tried, unsuccessfully, to pull him back down again, and cried out in protest. The muscles of her vagina tightened around him and she wrapped her leg tighter, pulling her hips up higher to meet his.

"No don't..." she moaned. "...Edward, don't stop..."

Their bodies, slick with her moisture, slid back together again. Edward realized he smelled blood - just a hint. He thought about stopping again, but his hips started moving faster, in and out of the hot wetness. He felt like he was swimming in her, swimming in her fragrance. Swimming in her blood, which had attracted him to her like a magnet from the first moment he had experienced it.

"Don't stop," she breathed again, reassuring him. The lengths of their bodies were pressed together, his open mouth pressed against her shoulder as he drove into her over and over, taking in all the glorious scents of her, all aplified by the sweat, the adrenaline, the the blood and the arousal. He didn't have a heartbeat and his lungs didn't need to fill, but he filled them anyway, gasping onto her skin.

He felt her fingers tangled in his hair as she rode along with him, meeting him stroke for stroke. After a moment, she began to make tiny cries with her exhaled breaths. After another moment, her head dropped backwards onto the bed, her throat stretched out, and then finally, as Edward began to feel her body tightening around him in climax, she curled her entire body into his, clinging to him.

He thrust into her harder and faster, the bed frame groaning beneath them, unable to contain the feelings coarsing through him and at the same time begging for the relief of orgasm, until finally, Bella's body stopped clenching and closed hard around his cock. She curled tighter into him, hanging on as if for dear life and let out a long but quiet cry, almost a soft scream. As he felt his orgasm blossoming, her made his final thrusts hard and sharp.

Finally he emptied himself deep inside her with a groan, almost forgetting himself and falling on top of her, but catching himself at the last fraction of a second. He was still inside her, could feel the small flutters of her muscles finishing their orgasm, the flutters of her heart slowing against his chest, the brush of her hardened nipples when her lungs expanded.

Neither spoke. They lay together, still connected, listening to the sounds of one another's breathing. Edward listened intently to the sound of her heart as it gradually slowed to its normal pace. He took a deep breath in and held it, savoring it - she smelled different now... like him. He hated to think he had diluted her, but the scent didn't seem to be a diluted version of her normal smell, it was simply enhanced both with the hormones of her arousal and with his body. Perfect.

After a moment, he realized she had fallen asleep under him. Slowly, with a deftness a human man couldn't manage, he extricated himself from her. She was so beautiful lying there, naked and flushed, but he couldn't stand the thought of her vulnerability so he covered her with her blanket.

Edward put his clothes on and moved to the rocking chair in the corner. After a while she would wake, and he would need to be there. It wouldn't do at all for her to wake up alone.

He felt a little guilty. They should have talked first, discussed, dialogued... he should have been more considerate. He should have asked her more if she was okay. Especially after they finished, he should have asked her. He should apologize. Even though in their brief moments of speech she had encouraged him, Edward still felt like he had taken her, if only because he knew, and wished she would realize as well, that once things had started moving, he was sure he wouldn't have been able to stop even if she had asked him to. Even if she had screamed and cried out and begged, he had lost himself somewhere in their love-making and could not have stopped taking her if he'd wanted, and she certainly would have had no power to stop him.

They would talk when she woke up. He would apologize. They had risked so much, and he wouldn't allow himself to risk it again. No matter what Bella said, how she begged, he would not allow himself to take advantage of her human weaknesses again.

Outside, the sun had not risen, but the birds were waking in their nests and nocturnal animals scurried back to their dens. In the bed, Bella's chest slowly rose and fell.

Edward waited for the morning to come and wished, as always, that he could see Bella's dreams.