Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyer owns Twilight. I just make use of her characters in my twisted little games.

I Hate You with an Insurmountable Passion


I hate Edward Cullen. I absolutely loathe and despise him.

I hate the way he talks. He's pretentious. He talks down to people, and makes them feel like they're somehow unworthy of being in his presence.

I hate the way he walks. He has a swagger that makes the girls swoon, but not me. To me he just looks like he's seen a few too many bad music videos, and is attempting to walk like a pimped up celebrity... and failing.

I hate the way he smells. His scent lingers, and all it does is remind you that he was just there, invading your space with his massive ego. He smells like sex and bar soap, a combination that he knows makes it look like he doesn't try too hard. He's just 'got it'. Please.

I hate his completely untouchable confidence, and the fact that even though he knows I loathe him with such intensity, he's completely unfazed. It doesn't make one ounce of difference to him what people think of him. I really hate that.

So if you were to ask me— seeing as I hate Edward Cullen with such vigour—why I spent earlier tonight scaling the tree outside his bedroom with every intention of fucking him until he was begging for release, well... I suppose I'd just have to tell you the truth.

I fucking hate Edward Cullen, and that's what makes fucking him so damn good.

What makes it even better, is that he really hates me too.

Our situation is, to be quite honest, perfect. I hate him, and he hates me... but neither of us hate anything more than relationships, and both of us were born with a sick sense of ludicrous morality that makes us unable to fuck around.

So, we've been drawn to each other by our mutual hatred. I hate him, and I would never consider a relationship with such an asshole. He hates me, and I'm quite sure, he would avoid committing to me like he would avoid a run in with a ravenous vampire. For that reason, our arrangement is perfect.

We don't sleep around, since we're both, by nature, serial monogamists. So, rather than sleeping around or being in relationships, we are, instead, 100% monogamous with each other. And trust me when I tell you, the hate sex is incredible.

Friends with benefits, without the 'friends' part, or the awkward emotional attachment. What a perfect alternative to blue balls... or, well... blue ovaries.

The tree is tall, and I can't stand climbing it, but that itch downstairs had been irritating me all day—ever since the asshole showed up at school in those jeans that he knows make his ass look like candy, and a blue button up top with the sleeves rolled up, exposing his fantastic forearms... the ones that are so muscular, and lead to those fingers that are long, and slender, and create the most incredible sensations when they're buried deep inside of me.

Yes, the asshole had planned this when he got dressed this morning. I'm sure of it.

I finally reached the window, which was the only source of light coming from the massive Cullen household at the late hour. Of course, the Cullens would be rich as all hell. Why else would their son be king of the dipshits? His trust fund, I'm sure, ensures he'll never have to actually work a day in his life. I would have stopped by earlier, but I had a shift at my part time job... the one I go to after spending all day at school, which contributes a pittance to my barely-existent college fund.

Fucking asshole.

I knocked on his window, and could see that he hadn't yet been to bed. The bed was still made, and the covers were in perfect condition—no doubt because their maid had cleaned his filthy room after he left for school this morning in his ridiculously tacky sports car, dressed in sex clothes.

I could see him emerge from just out of view, no doubt admiring himself in the mirror on his vanity. He was still dressed in that damn blue button up top, with those snug jeans offering not just a wonderful view from behind, but from the front as well. He scowled at me as he pulled open the window and leaned on the ledge.

"What the fuck do you want?" he asked. He tone was desire laced with acid—it's a tone I recognize well. Likely, very close to the same sound coming out of me whenever I'm around him. I just rolled my eyes at his stupid question.

"Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to invite me in?" I asked, hoping my tone wouldn't betray the depth of my desire. I hate making him feel like he has power over me. He stood there for a moment, arms crossed tightly across his chest, before he relented. He offered a hand, which I, of course, ignored, and I made my way through the open window, landing softly on the white plush rug that covers the expensive cherry wood floors.

I was barely out of my shoes before I was flung, face first, toward the bed. I caught myself on my hands, only to have my backside hoisted upwards and my ass palmed and squeezed relentlessly.

"Took you long enough. I almost went to bed," he moaned into my ear, pulling my head backward with a hand tangled in my hair. His voice was gritty, and I could feel his need pressing against my ass as his other hand held me in place while he used me as his own personal hump-toy. If I wasn't so horny, I would probably have been offended by his blatant disregard for our common formalities.

"I had to work," I explained, trying my best not to let him know how his desire and force were making me throb for him. His hand in my hair let go and he moved it to palm my breast, as he continued to grind hard against me. My head dropped down and I let myself momentarily succumb to the feelings of his hands on me. He really is incredibly talented with his hands.

He grunted and jerked into me a little harder, while both hands began to roam freely over my body. He pulled me up so I was standing in front of him with my back to him, and he groped me mercilessly through my green cotton top. I leaned back into him and pulled my arms over my head, wrapping them around the back of his neck as I revelled in the feeling. Feeling him at full length behind me, with his arms wrapped around me, and one hand beginning to venture south and dipping into my jeans, I could almost forget how desperately I hate him. Just for the moment. I'd hate him again later.

"What you want, Bella?" he repeated his question from earlier, this time in that gravelly voice in my ear, which combined with his hot breath to make my skin tingle. I moaned as his hand ventured under my shirt and bra, and he claimed my nipple between his fingers. He bucked against my back, and I knew what he wanted. This time, I decided to answer.

"Oh god," I moaned in a soft, breathy voice that barely sounded like my own, "Fuck me, Edward. Please." I hate that he makes me beg for him. He's such an asshole.

His hands both left their respective positions and joined together at the hem of my top, pulling it up and over my head. Not bothering with the clasp, he then pulled my bra over my head and flung it to join my shirt in the corner of the room. As I began to work the button on my pants, both of his hands returned to my breasts, palming them, and pinching my already hard nipples. His mouth claimed my neck, and I could feel him trying to mark me as he nipped and sucked at the sensitive skin there.

My fingers were like jello, making the button on my pants a difficult challenge. Edward growled in my ear, and his hands went to my pants, "Fuck, Bella, can't you do anything?" he asked. I tried really hard to be irritated, but as my pants and underwear joined together at my ankles, all I could think of was how desperately I wanted to taste him. I stepped out of the final articles of my clothing and kicked them away, before turning around to face him. I reached out and swiftly undid his pants and yanked them to the floor, underwear in tow. Rather than getting back to my feet, I settled onto my knees and took his rapidly growing erection into my hands, tugging it a couple of times.

"Yes," I said in response to his rude question. "As a matter of fact, I know something that I do really fucking well." His eyes widened in recognition of my intent as I leaned in and licked the precum off his tip. I kept my eyes trained on his, loving how worked up I can get him. King Shit brought down by the lowly Bella Swan. It's like something out of a fairytale.

I began to lick the length of his shaft, while he rapidly unbuttoned his top and flung it away, adding the final article to our pile of discarded clothes. He kept his eyes on mine the whole time, and I could see my desire reflected in the brilliant green orbs.

"Fuck Bella, suck it," he commanded. I grinned, knowing he could only take my teasing for so long. I know so well how this man works. He's so predictable. I continued to lick him for a moment longer, using one hand to pump the head, and the other to pull on his balls. I know he loves it when I multi-task on him. He can't seem to decide which feeling he wants to focus on.

Eventually, though, I conceded, and pull him into my mouth. My strokes were shallow at first, barely moving my lips past his head. He grunted and moaned my name, along with a few small 'fuck's' and 'shit's' along the way. Without warning, I plunged deeper, enjoying that my lack of a gag reflex still surprises him.

"Shit, Bella, so good," he moaned, taking my hair in his hands as he began to guide my face over him. When he started to pump in and out of my mouth, I pulled away, releasing him with a pop. I looked up and could see the desire in his eyes mingling with a new irritation. Rather than saying anything, I stood and grabbed him by the shoulders, turning us around, and seating him on the bed. I reclaimed my position on my knees and immediately took him back into my mouth. I didn't want to keep him waiting too long.

The new position allowed me to use gravity as leverage, and I was able to take him even deeper. He gasped audibly when his tip hit the back of my throat, and he involuntarily bucked upward. I pushed him down so he was laying on his back, and continued my ministrations from the floor. I knew he couldn't see me very well anymore, and I used that to my advantage, occasionally grabbing his balls tightly and tugging on them, or popping off and rubbing him hard with my hands. His reactions to my quick changes were all the satisfaction I needed. I love being able to fuck with him.

"Fuck, Bella. I'm gonna come," he groaned as his hands tangled hard in my hair and he began to pump upward into my mouth. He fucked my face hard for a moment before he exploded down my throat. I swallowed, not taking time to register the taste. It's easier that way.

He pulled my head away from his dick and encouraged me upward so I was off the floor, and on the bed straddling him. Without a word, he pulled my head to his and kissed me deeply, forcing his tongue into my mouth. I knew he could taste himself on me, and I knew he liked it. What can I say? The guy truly loves himself.

He rolled us over so he was resting on his elbow beside me. All the while, he continued to kiss me hard, undoubtedly bruising my lips with his hard nips and sucks.

"God, Bella," he said softly, moving down to pepper my throat with kisses and nips, while his hand that wasn't supporting his weight started palming my right breast. Eventually his head moved further down and he took my other nipple into his mouth. He knows just how to lick, suck, and bite to make me moan.

"I love the sounds you make," he mumbled against my breast. Fuck him.

After a few moments of ravishing my breasts, his hand ventured south. It wasn't another moment before he spread my wet folds with his fingers, and rubbed my clit, eliciting a moan. Finally, he was touching me where I need it the most; where I'd needed him all fucking day. His head left my breast, and he pulled away from me entirely. Claiming my old seat on the floor, he grasped my knees and yanked me down to the end of the bed so my butt was at the edge. He spread my legs wide and I hitched one foot against his bedside table, and the other on the edge of the bed.

I felt his fingers slowly rubbing up and down me again, pinching my clit between his thumb and forefinger, before moving down to where I needed him the most. I could hear my juices inviting him in as he stuck two fingers into me slowly.

"You're so wet," he said, making me blush. He does that on purpose. He loves to embarrass me. I couldn't bother with that at the time, though, because in addition to his fingers, he had begun to lick my clit furiously. I know I mentioned his fingers, but did I also mention that he's very talented with his tongue?

Most coherent thoughts left my head as I gave myself over to the sensations he was creating with his hands and mouth. He sucked, licked, and nipped at my clit, while his fingers worked up the most incredible burn inside of me. He knew exactly where to go immediately. The man could write the map to my vagina.

I felt that familiar tingle begin to work its way from my core outwards, not stopping until it hit the tips of my fingers and toes. He started to pump faster. My intensifying moans had tipped him off to how close I was.

"Come for me, Bella," his voice was a gritty command, and I couldn't help but obey. The spark inside of me ignited, and in a burst of flames, I could feel myself climaxing in time to his thrusting fingers. He milked me until I was spent, and lapped at my folds until I was no longer dripping. When my vision returned in full, he was standing, stroking himself as he watched me.

"Fuck Edward," I said softly, not able to form another coherent thought.

"I need to fuck you, Bella," he said, his pace on his dick speeding up. "Right now."

Without another word, he yanked me up and set both of my feet on the ground, while I braced myself against the bed. Just like that, we were right back to where we had started—only this time we were naked, and his stiff shaft was stoking me, quickly becoming coated in my juices. In a swift manoeuvre, he entered me completely, taking me off guard. I cried out at the sensation, and pressed back into him, willing it to never end.

In another swift movement, he pulled out of me completely, leaving me feeling totally empty.

"God, Edward. Please," I begged again. I heard him chuckle darkly behind me, and it sent a thrill of need through me. He entered me again, this time slower, as he took his time fully encasing himself within me. His slow movement made me want to throw him down and ride him hard and fast, just so he wouldn't get what he wanted, but I couldn't deny that his slow torture felt unbelievable. He fit so perfectly into me that I almost allowed myself to think that this union was right.

As soon as he was fully inside of me again, he pulled out again. My frustration was building and I growled back at him. He laughed at me again. God, I hate that he can make me so needy. Just as I was about to take matters into my own hands, he plunged hard into me, and grabbed me by the hair and pulled me up to him, wrapping one arm around my waist to hold me there.

My back was arched in a way that was almost painful, and my hair was straining at the roots, but I couldn't feel anything other than his hard member inside of me, and his hot breath on my ear.

"How do you want it, Bella?" he asked. His voice was so dark, it was almost menacing. It made me so fucking hot. He pulled back and thrusted hard into me again, making me cry out. "Do you want it hard, Bella?" he asked. I grinded my ass into him, and groaned at the sensation.

"God, yes, Edward. Fuck me," I moaned. He nipped my ear.

"Fuck you how, Bella?" He thrusted again.

"Hard," my voice was barely a moan. "Hard, now!" I bucked back into him, and he released my hair and the arm around my waist, making me fall forward. I caught myself again on my hands, and barely got my bearings before he pulled out completely again.

My complaints were stopped before they could start when he forcefully entered me again. Both of his hands grasped my hips tightly and pull me back against him in time with his thrusts, and his hips made the most delightful slapping sound against my ass. I could feel his balls slapping against my clit, and the combination of sensations almost sent me over the edge.

It's always a competition with Edward, though. A competition to see who comes first, to see who wants it more, to see who can fuck harder, and who can fuck longer.

As his thrusts sped up and became harder, I bucked back into him. His grasp on my hips was so hard, I'm sure I'll be bruised in the morning, but I didn't care. All I cared about was that I was being thoroughly fucked, and I couldn't remember ever needing it so badly before.

Without warning he pulled out again and roughly turned me around, throwing me back onto the bed. Quickly, he followed, and placed himself between my legs, thrusting hard into me again. This time I could see his face, and his desire, and it only served to heighten my own. His eyes were dark, and they bore into my own as he fucked me. A sheen of sweat formed between us, making us slick. He moved his head down and began to bite and suck on my ear, my neck, my mouth, wherever he could get to.

He locked his mouth against mine and kissed me so hard I became dizzy with the intensity. I tangled my fingers in his hair, and locked my legs around his waist, unwilling to let him move away from me.

I have my moments of possessiveness with Edward.

He slowed a bit, and I knew that the fast pace he had set was nearly impossible to maintain. Without a word, I flipped us over and began to ride him quickly. His hands roamed over my body, as though he couldn't decide where he wanted to touch, and he couldn't begin to get enough. His hands eventually settled on my hips, and he guided me over him with harsh, needy movements. His knees came up behind me, and he lifted me off of him a bit so he could thrust upward into me.

This new feeling made me begin to lose it, and I couldn't help but cry out as he hit me hard and deep, and at just the right angle. I could feel my climax growing, and I was sure I couldn't take it much longer.

Sensing how close I was, Edward sat up and pulled me flush against him, kissing me fully as I continued to ride him in this new position. I grasped at his shoulders, his back, his hair, anywhere I could get to, just needing to grab something as my orgasm began to build.

"Fuck, Edward!" I cried out as I was overtaken by my second climax of the night. My nails dug hard into the skin of his shoulders, and I knew that he would be left with marks.

"Oh Bella," he cried, one arm wrapping tightly around my waste, pounding me down onto him, while the other entangled itself in my hair. He pulled me to him and kissed me forcefully as his own orgasm claimed him. I could feel him emptying into me, and his hot cum began to spill out from where we were still joined.

Our movements began to slow, but didn't completely stop as we each came down from our high. I couldn't stop moving against him, all I wanted was to feel him inside of me. It's the best feeling.

I rested my forehead against his as we both attempt to get our breathing under control. He still had one hand tangled in my hair, and his other hand had found my own, entwining our fingers and bringing them to his chest.

I considered for a moment that this position was far too intimate for our typical post-coital bitchfest, but I couldn't bring myself to move. In that moment, his eyes were boring into mine with intensity, and for the first time, I could see satisfaction mingling with something other than irritation. He looked happy. Complete. I wondered if my eyes were showing the same feeling.

"Bella," his voice was barely a whisper. I swallow hard, willing this moment of mutual contentment not to end too soon. I knew that tomorrow we'd hate each other again, but for that moment, that was the last thing I wanted. I leaned forward and captured his mouth with my own. For the first time, the kiss was soft, sweet, searching. All of our previous kisses had been in the heat of the moment, but this one was entirely different. It was real. Too real.

I pulled away from him reluctantly, not because I wanted the kiss to end, but because I thought it needed to. I swallowed hard and got up, finally allowing him to fall out of me, limply.

"I need to get home," I said, racing across the room to gather my clothes. He sat on the bed watching me dress, and when I ventured a glance in his direction, I could see that he looked disappointed. I was too, though I couldn't really understand why. We had just had mind blowing, multi-orgasmic sex. Why would I feel anything other than complete and total satisfaction?

When I finished dressing, I raced over to the still open window and swung a leg over, hoping to make a quick exit. His voice stopped me.

"I don't think we should do this anymore," he said. He looked sad.

"Why not?" I asked, although I knew the answer. We hate each other. That moment should not have happened. He just shrugged and looked down, toying with the material of his comforter.

"I just don't know if it's a good idea anymore," he said. He raised his eyes and looked at me, and I could see a hint of pain inside of them. "We hate each other, right?" I bit my lip and nodded slowly, ignoring the pang in my chest.

"Right," I confirmed. He took a deep breath and sighed.

"Then don't come back," he said, his voice sounding like an incompatible mix of indecision and assurance. I nodded and pulled myself the rest of the way out the window and into the tree. I didn't want him to see the tears that had started to accumulate in my eyes. I shouldn't have been upset. We don't mean anything to each other. We hate each other.

Just as I began to climb down, I heard his voice again. I didn't look back, but I stopped to listen.

"Hey Bella?" he called from his bed.

"What?" I responded. My tone was clipped. I didn't want my emotions to betray me and let him know how bad I was feeling. There was silence for a moment. I could hear him sigh heavily, and I chanced a glance back. He looked back at me, his eyes showing all of the sadness that I felt.

"Get home safe," he said. It's not what he intended to say, I'm sure, but I didn't want to press him on it. Instead, I just nodded and continued my descent down the tree.

As I pulled myself into my car parked halfway down the street, I let a few of the traitor tears fall, and I gripped the steering wheel tightly.

I hate Edward Cullen. It's a shame I love him so damn much.

A/N: Reviews are like an orgasm after a really long dry spell.