Author's Note: It's been a while. A reader named Natalie sent me a message entreating me to upload a new chapter, and I finally realized that leaving this story unfinished would be a waste of good writing and unnerving sexual encounters. This chapter is shorter than the others, and in my opinion, a little rushed, but it's been months since I've written anything on fanfiction. We're going to all have to cut me some slack.


I had never experienced this type of anxiety before.

Perhaps it was because of my life, and how short it had been as a human. There hadn't been enough time for me to endure such a paralyzing fear, although if I had, it wouldn't have mattered. As I wondered aimlessly if I had ever felt worse, I crumpled the bed sheets tightly into my fists and I decided that even as a human, there couldn't have been any situation uncomfortable enough to rival this one. Behind me, I could hear the roar of water as it thundered into the bathtub, and I squeezed my eyes shut against the sound as Bella shifted in her sleep, rolling away from me.

"Alice…"

Rosalie's poisonously beautiful voice drifted back into the bedroom, and I stifled a groan as I turned my head over my shoulder and stared at the stripe of light that was visible through the barely opened door. As I watched, Rosalie's face drifted into view, and her regal gaze landed on mine, eyebrows raised with warning and expectation.

"I'm ready, Alice."

She whispered it, but my sensitive hearing picked up the words as though they had been spoken directly into my ear, and I fought off a burst of butterflies as I climbed out of bed, careful not to wake Bella. Rosalie's threat of involving Bella if I refused to go along with her twisted little games made me think twice about arguing, and I held my breath as I walked into the bathroom, feeling my head pound with adrenaline. The expensive stone felt cold beneath my bare feet, and I shut the door before looking up.

"Rosalie!"

I had expected this, but I still felt shock and something more primal explode through my abdomen as I turned my eyes towards the ceiling, swallowing a mouthful of saliva.

"Don't be such a prude, Alice. You've seen me naked before."

Yes, I had seen Rosalie naked before. Even then I had suspected that there was something wrong as I looked a little too long at her perfect breasts, staring at pert nipples and light brown areolas that were so different from my own. Her body was longer than mine, more female and luscious. The triangle between her thighs had dewy blonde curls, and she'd caught me staring on more than one occasion. Guiltily I'd turn away, but not before she'd raise one eyebrow, condescendingly smug about my lingering gaze.

"Don't be shy, Alice. I can promise you that I won't be."

"Rosalie, I really don't think that this is a good idea!"

My sentence turned into a squeak as she grabbed my nightdress by the fringe and tugged it up over my head, exposing my body carelessly to the warm air.

"You're going to love the scent I chose for the water. I know its one of your favorites."

I found myself stripped naked before I could respond to this statement, and I turned my face away from hers as she crushed me into the wall, grabbing me firmly between the legs before I could protest.

"What are you…oh, no. Rosalie, no…"

Jasper had never touched me so abruptly before, and I released an involuntary groan as Rosalie's slender fingers moved against me, tracing my opening with deliberate precision. Her thumb found my clit, and I gasped audibly.

"Relax, Alice."

I tried to squirm away, but there was nowhere to go. No matter which direction I moved, the pressure between my legs remained, and it seemed that the more I jerked around, the quicker Rosalie's thumb circled my sensitive bundle of nerves. Feeling my face burn as a rush of pleasure shot through me, I let out an indiscriminate noise and she finally stopped, shifting her hands up to circle around my waist. Pulling me close, I felt her hands slip over my backside, and I grit my teeth with anger and heady anticipation as she whispered,

"You thought that you could get away from this, Alice, but you know that you want it. You like the way it feels, to bend under my control. You like playing with your sister."

"You're not my sister. And I'm telling Esme the second that you let me go."

Rosalie purred then, a very deep sound that rumbled through the skin of her chest, and I could feel it buzz against my body as I pulled away from her, trying to fight off my own drunken feelings of desire.

"I'm sure she'll believe every word that you say."

"She will believe me!" I thought that Rosalie was trying to be sarcastic, but one look into her startlingly black eyes told a different story: Rosalie wanted Esme to know. "What the hell is wrong with you, Rosalie? I am not getting into that tub with you. Do you hear me, Rosalie? Rosalie!"

Ignoring my protests, Rosalie lifted me up despite my struggling and carried me towards the full tub, dropping me onto the tile abruptly, so that my back was facing her. Forcing me against the edge so that my thighs cut deeply into the rim, she hissed angrily into my ear, "If you don't stop fighting me about this, I'm going to wake up Bella right now. Assuming that your whining hasn't already done that."

Gritting my teeth as Rosalie moved away to turn off the water, I closed my eyes as I slid my alabaster body into the front of the tub, grimacing against the pleasurable warmth. The water steamed up the instant that my icy body touched it, and my vision fogged over as she climbed in after me, feeling like a child in comparison to her mature, womanly fullness. I had always been a pixie, with androgynously boyish thinness and small breasts, but as her soft abdomen brushed up against my back, I forgot about the differences in our bodies. I fell still, and for a very strange second, I was comforted by her figure behind me, comforted by the fact that I was surrounded by warmth and pleasure and the soothing smell of lilac.

"I think that you're only pretending to be upset, Alice. Why do you do that to yourself? Why do you always say 'no' when you really mean 'yes'?"

"I mean what I say," I mumbled, allowing Rosalie to tug my head back against her shoulder. She began to trace my exposed neck with her fingers, and I purred wantonly.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"I do."

Rosalie kept going, and I exhaled as her legs wrapped around my body, squeezing against me in dominance.

"You're lying to me, Alice."

"If you hadn't forced me to do this, I never would have."

"But now that I am, and now that you're here, you love it. Tell me that you love it."

"I love it," I whispered, allowing my eyes to drift shut.

"Tell me that you adore me."

"I adore you."

Rosalie's caresses became more persistent, and she dug her fingers between my legs roughly.

"Tell me that I'm better than you."

Panting, I opened my eyes in shocked confusion, trying to sit up. Rosalie snarled and pulled me back into place, working fiercely around my clit.

"Say it!"

"You're better than me."

Jamming a finger inside of me suddenly, Rosalie began to pound in and out of my body as I gasped and arched upwards, clawing the sides of the tub.

"I am better than you," she growled over my stifled cries. "I will always be better than you."

The water sloshed around us in a hurricane of lilac and heat, and I felt a confusing bubble of hurt and rejection form in my chest as tears sprang to my eyes, laced with venom.

"Please Rosalie," I whispered, not sure if I was asking for release or acceptance. "Please."

"Don't speak," she spat, and she added two more fingers into my heat abruptly, jerking my orgasm out of me with so much ferocity that I saw white. The water stilled around us as I choked, coming down from my high with hasty shallow breaths, and Rosalie sighed against my neck, withdrawing her hands slowly.

"Why does Esme love Carlisle more than me?"

Shifting my weight, I turned to look at her with sheer disbelief. Her expression was one of guarded despair, and she stared through me as though locked in a trance.

"Carlisle is her husband."

" 'A lion among ladies is a most dreadful thing.' "

"Rosalie?"

"Don't speak," she whispered, eyes abounding with sadness. "Please Alice. Don't say another word."


To My Readers: Points to anyone who can tell me which Shakespeare play Rosalie is referencing.