This is a little Edward/Bella story, influenced by all the 'Possessive Edward' stories floating around out there. This Edward is possessive, very much so, and this story definitely falls into the 'raunchy' category. Yes, that WAS a warning.

Hardcore love to the delectable, and infinitely patient, PortiaKhalo for all of her advice, corrections, help and general encouragement. If you haven't checked her writing out yet, I implore you to do just that. If Edward and Bella are your poison, her one-shot for the OJWard contest is particularly delicious.

As always, I own nothing to do with Twilight - that is all Stephanie Meyer.

He stood beneath her window like a demonic version of Romeo, looking up longingly at the pale light. He slipped off his boots and his jacket, laying them behind the rosebushes he had helped Esme plant when he was five. She had nailed her window shut months ago but Edward had stolen in this morning, when she was studying at Lauren's, and prised them free. He had oiled the window, making sure it was smooth and noiseless in its runners, then clipped the heads from the nails and placed them back into the empty holes. Bella would never know to look at it that it had been tampered with. He jogged on the spot, anticipation making him restless. Unbidden, he remembered when he started crawling in her window.

From the day realised he loved Bella, Edward started sneaking out of the house a few nights a week and biking the half-mile to Bella's little suburban home. He climbed the tree outside her window and would sit in it for hours, imagining what she was doing, feeling a thrill fizz in his skull when he caught glimpses of her.

She opened her window unexpectedly one night and he found himself staring straight into her shocked brown eyes. She stood leaning half in, half out, for minutes before ushering him inside.

"What are you doing here?"

He shrugged but didn't answer, sitting in the rocking chair in the corner of her room, watching her. Eventually she tried to go about her evening as if he weren't there but he could see how she got restless and twitchy under his gaze. He wished himself invisible so he could watch her unnoticed, so desperate was he to know what she did when she was without him.

This ritual carried on, him sitting silently in the corner like a living ghost watching her grow and change, her squirming under his ever-watchful eyes and trying to pretend she wasn't. Eventually he would tire and throw his limbs over her window-sill. As soon as she heard his shoe thump the outside of her house she would relax. The sigh that escaped her and the way her muscles all loosened at once had him grinding his teeth in furious frustration.

He shook his head in irritation at the memory and hooked his arm over the low-hanging bough of the Oak that, rather conveniently, grew next to Bella's window. He was hoping he could sneak in without her noticing. As he climbed his mind turned to Bella; beautiful, wilful Bella. Bella who insisted on fighting him. Bella who refused to submit to him, no matter what he tried.

He'd known Bella since the day she was born. Esme smiled indulgently and told him he couldn't possibly remember, he was only two when Bella was born, but he remembered. Her eyes had barely opened the entire time Renee and Charlie had visited, her little hands bunched into fists as if she were already aware of him and preparing for their battle. He remembered being so grateful that he would finally have a playmate. Someone younger, someone he could boss around, someone who would do as he said without question or argument. He was impatient for her to grow up.

He swung himself onto the bough that led to Bella's window and paused a second. She was sitting at the computer in the alcove, wearing a tank top and panties and nothing else, her back to him, earphones in. Edward knew she did this so that she could forget about everything around her. Forget about him. The thought made his muscles clench momentarily before he could shake it off. To soothe himself he watched the graceful way her neck dipped into her shoulders, all the tension leaving him as he focused on her, his eye trailing the expanse of skin from her hip to her ankle. Another memory flashed before his eyes.

"You love her."

He watched Bella's ten year old self stop and swivel towards the voice. Mike stood like a king, pointing at Edward in glee and something that looked suspiciously like jealously. It made Edward's skin tighten.

"You love her."

Bella looked at him and the horror in her eyes split his soul. He turned his fury on Mike, raining fists on him whilst yelling, "No I fucking don't", over and over. They had to drag him off the crying, bleeding boy. His eyes met Bella's as they dragged him into the school and triumph engulfed him when she dropped her eyes and took a step back, away from Mike's hunched form.

He eased a leg onto where the roof jutted out from her windowsill and silently slid the window up. It was a warm, still night, no wind to alert her to his presence in the place she sought refuge; from him. Quietly he closed it and leaned against the sill. The room was Bella, her stamp everywhere. He breathed in a lungful of her intoxicating scent and felt every atom, right down to his toes, vibrate in response.

He watched her back as she read and typed, jigging absentmindedly in her chair along to whatever was playing in her ears. She was so fucking beautiful it hurt to look at her. He'd known, as soon as she could toddle and utter words, that he wanted to control her. He didn't know anything beyond his driving need to make her submit to his will. He was the oldest so she should defer without question. It wasn't until much later…

He shook that thought free, focusing on her hair. It was brown, down her back, shining like you see on TV adverts. Her shoulders were narrow and slight, her back slender. He wanted to protect her, take care of her, if only she would let him. He shook his head ruefully as another memory reminded him that he hadn't always played the role of Bella Swan's protector.

"Why does it say Edward Masen on your birth certificate?"

His nine year-old self swivelled to stare at Bella, who was absent-mindedly setting up a tea-party for her dolls. It took her a few minutes to recognise the black tension. She looked up fearfully into his thunderous face as he towered over her.

"Where did you hear that?"

Edward's voice was soft but Bella flinched as if she had been struck. Her fingers worried at her doll's hair as if she hoped it would magic her out of the situation should she rub it hard enough for long enough.

"I said," Edward hissed, leaning forward and fisting his hand in her hair, making her yelp," Where did you hear that?"

"I saw it on your Daddy's desk," she whimpered, trying to pry his hand loose. He pinched the skin on the back of her arm, making her whip it away, and tugged her hair sharply.

"What were you doing in there?" Edward felt like his bones were vibrating in fury and he gave another malicious tug. Bella was crying properly now, her arms flailing.

"We were playing hide and seek," she sobbed, "I didn't mean to look but I knocked it off the desk."


It was the first and only time Esme had struck him. He stared at her in shock as she untangled his hand from Bella's hair and threw it back at him, scooping the crying girl into her arms and cradling her softly. Her eyes were hard as she stared down at him.

"We never ever hurt friends," she barked, her usually melodic voice ugly with anger, and swept away across the garden leaving Edward alone with his rage and shame.

Later that night, he snuck outside Esme and Carlisle's bedroom and listened in as they had a hushed argument.

"Maybe we should send him to see someone?"

"What?" Esme's voice was sharp, dangerous.

"Now Esme, don't start," Carlisle, ever the voice of reason, was using his detached doctor voice, "I was speaking with a colleague and he thinks perhaps it would do Edward some good."

"Oh really?" Esme's tone was heavy with false sugar, "A complete stranger thinks we should send our son to see a shrink. He got angry Carlisle, he's nine for goodness sake."

"You know it's not just that," the tone weary, "My colleague thinks perhaps the adoption has affected Edward. Maybe he subconsciously fears abandonment and exerts control to stop that happening again."

"Control? He's nine!"

"Oh come on, you've seen him with Bella."

"A lot of children are bossy."

"There's bossy and then there's domineering."

There was a sharp thump as if Esme had slammed something down hard. The room fell completely silent and Edward froze, wondering if he was about to be caught.

"You listen to me Carlisle Cullen," Esme's voice made Edward shiver and shrink down into himself. "That boy was barely months old when he came to live with us so don't you tell me an adoption affected him. He's bossy and prone to temper tantrums but he's nine and I will not have you sending him off to see a fucking shrink like he's damaged goods."

Esme hissed the last part, anger palpable through the wood that separated Edward from his parents. He was more shocked by the fact that Esme had sworn. Esme never swore. He felt something loosen a little inside him in the knowledge that she was so fiercely protective of him and he vowed to be extra nice to her as he slunk off to bed.

He regretted every time he'd hurt Bella but he had been young, unsure of his place. Not only in the world but in the Cullen family. It took this incident for him to be truly sure of their feelings towards him. Bella had given him that. He wished he hadn't made her cry. Not like that at least. Not from pain.

She moved, bending down to retrieve something from the floor and Edward froze, a stone statue by her window. She didn't turn. He breathed a sigh of relief and silently padded over to her bed, further out of her line of view. Edward eased himself onto her pale blue bedspread and tilted his head, picking up a sheet of paper. He resisted the urge to tear it to pieces when he spotted the official header. He thought back to a few weeks ago, when the subject of Bella and college had come up with Emmett and Jasper.

"So you can do anyone you please but she isn't allowed near anything even vaguely male?" Emmett gave him a pitying look. "Dude, that's messed up."

Edward glowered, taking a mouthful of beer to stop from snapping that it was none of his fucking business. Emmett and Jasper were his oldest friends - his only friends - and as such got special dispensation. But no-one got dispensation when it came to the subject of Bella.

"Seriously dude." Jasper's still-thick Southern accent, despite living in Forks since he was in grade school, was full of question." You can't keep her virginal forever whilst you bone your way around the North."

Edward hissed under his breath, knuckles white against the green of the bottle he held. He hated it when conversation turned to Bella, his actions with Bella, Bella having a life without him. The last thought made him wince and grimace. Emmett and Jasper raised their eyebrows at him.

Truth was he hadn't boned anyone, drunk or sober, since the redhead three months before. Since he'd left the school behind, it drove him insane knowing Bella was there for hours without him, having conversations with people that he didn't know about, hanging out with people where he couldn't see. He'd deferred college, much to the disappointment of his parents, so he could keep Bella close. He insisted on taking her to school and picking her up, refusing to let her have any more respite from him than was necessary.

He'd been in a particularly black mood that wet February afternoon, Bella having managed to lock herself in her room the night before, effectively cutting him off. He'd picked up Vanessa…no, Veronica,…or maybe Victoria…, before he swung by the school and pulled up at Bella's feet. It always made his heart clench, seeing her standing, alone and abandoned, as he drove up. She slid in the back, not even glancing at the redhead in the front with her hand so far up his thigh it was practically on his crotch, saying nothing. She hadn't said a voluntary word to Edward since she was 15. Sometimes he goaded her into an argument just to hear her voice. As they pulled out he glanced at her in the mirror and caught her looking between him and the redhead. She turned to the window as soon as she realised she'd been caught but not before he'd seen the spark of something in her face; relief.

"What you gonna do in September?" Emmett, ever the pusher, needled. "She's gonna go to College. Probably out of state."

He couldn't be sure but he thought he heard Jasper mutter, "Another state? Another fucking continent", under his breath. He ground his teeth furiously, desperately trying to keep himself in check.

"She isn't going to college." Edward was aware of the arrogance of the statement, the belligerence in his tone, but he was being pushed and, as always, he couldn't help but react. His hands itched to punch Emmett but he held it back, murmuring 'they're friends, they're friends, they're friends' in the darkness of his mind.

"I know you want to thump me right now." Emmett's voice was low as he leaned down into Edward's eye line. "But dude you have to face up to reality. She's gonna be 18 in a few months and, come September, she'll be gone."

"And you can't put your life on hold forever." Jasper added.

Edward's entire body was vibrating with rage. Bella wasn't leaving. He couldn't understand why no-one else could understand this. Not Emmett, who'd been his friend since they thumped each other on the first day of school, each giving the other a black eye. Not Jasper, who turned up half way through second grade and jumped into a fight between Edward and three brothers, proving himself one helluva fighter and the perfect addition to the Edward and Emmett twosome. Not his parents, who'd brought him into their world and watched him grow. Not even Bella, sweet, fragile, beautiful, Bella, whose existence was buried in him right down to the bone.

"She's not fucking leaving." Edward was aware of the deadly tone of his voice, a tone he'd used plenty but never with his friends. They glanced at each other but wisely decided to drop it. They had swung from the taboo to the usual gentle teasing and wagering common to boys at the end of their teenage years and on the cusp of manhood, but Edward's blood ran bitter, his evening ruined.

He left them in Emmett's basement, playing pool and drinking beer, and stalked home. He hunted out Bella, who sensed his mood the minute his foot hit the front step and tried in vain to avoid him. He finally cornered her in the kitchen. He then proceeded to pick and sneer until she finally broke and fled, sobbing, to her room. He retreated to his own and spent the night wondering why he felt the urge to destroy the only good thing in his life, feeling sick right down to his black heart.

The memory still made him angry and he brushed the application aside, watching in satisfaction as it slipped silently down the narrow space between the bed and the wall. As his fingers brushed the wall, he remembered the journal Bella kept that she didn't know he knew about. He slid his fingers down the space, searching, and was rewarded when they came into contact with something solid. He wiggled his hand and pulled out a small, brown, nondescript notebook. He smiled at her back in triumph and began flicking through the pages.

The first quarter spoke of school through Bella's eyes, her friends – Edward grimaced – her school timetable. He noted that entries dated after the summer two years ago dropped mention of a good number of girls evident in the preceding pages. He cast his mind back, groping for a reason. It came quickly.

He sat outside Angela's house the entire night, a silent sentry in a Volvo. Bella had looked out the window about eleven, seen him and swiftly pulled the curtain back into place. She checked every fifteen minutes after that, clearly thinking he couldn't see the slight twitch of the curtain of the bathroom on the same floor. It made his blood boil, made him think she was up to something.

The front door opened at 5AM and Bella stumbled out, closing it silently behind her. He could see exhaustion etched on her face as she neared and it made his muscles tight. She slid into the front passenger seat, dropping her bag at her feet and leaned against the window, looking away from him. He swallowed his anger and pulled the car out.

The ride home was silent and tense. He wanted to stop the car and shake her, make her look at him, make her speak. Instead he gritted his teeth, tightened his hands on the wheel and sped up, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. He was rewarded with her white fingers gripping the seat and, perversely, he put his foot down further.

"Edward please," she whispered, looking at him pleadingly. Her soft voice whispering his name made him feel like he could breathe again. Then he got angry. How dare she have this kind of hold on him?

"Please what Bella?" he drawled, taking the curve of the drive at excessive speed. She braced her knees against the dashboard and clung tighter to the seat, turning her face away from him again. He yanked the car to a stop outside the front door and she was out and half way up the steps before he could speak.

When she ran from him, it just made him want to chase her down. He shot out of the car and after her, unexplainable excitement in the pit of his stomach at the sound of her frantic scrabbling on the stairs.

He caught her just as she passed his room, grabbing her arm, pulling her round. She frantically shrugged him off, staring at him like a cornered animal struggling between fight and flight.

"Why?" she whispered, her eyes shining with tears. Of sorrow or anger, he couldn't tell.

"Why should you spend time with anyone but me?" he hissed in return and she bristled. Edward took a step back; the look in her eye was so unfamiliar to him. Bella looked suddenly furious, stepping forward to him.

"You're ruining my life Edward," she bit out. "I can't have friends, I can't have a boyfriend, I can't have a job. You ruin everything." She stood tall and looked him straight in the eye, her face a mask of fury. "I hate you."

And just like that, the power shifted back again.

The words cut right into his soul. She hated him? No, that couldn't be. He could see her face losing its fury, twisting into a familiar expression. Fear. He could feel his anger taking him over, the beast from within. He stepped forward.


She stepped back, cowering from him. He could tell she was ready to run, could feel it in the air. He took another step forward and she teetered. He stared her dead in the eye and she couldn't drop his gaze, terrified as she was.

"You hate me?"

Time seemed to slow down. She squared her shoulders, one last fight, nodded and then turned to run down the corridor to the sanctuary of her room. He grabbed her before she made a single step and, hauling her up, threw her into his room and slammed the door behind him. She squeaked up at him from where she had fallen and tried to shrink away. He dropped onto her like an avenging angel, yanking her body beneath him and pinning her down.

"Don't scream," he ordered and she didn't, her face a silent mask of horror. Her small show of obedience tamed the beast a little but Edward could still feel it seething under his skin, making his muscles tremble.

"You hate me?" He kept his tone pleasant as she tried to wriggle out from his grasp but he simply dropped his weight onto her, pinning her still. He held her wrists in one hand, twisted above her head and shoved firmly into the thick cream carpet. He could feel her heartbeat hammering in her throat as he nosed her pulse point. She whimpered and squirmed but stilled when he squeezed her wrists firmly.

"I asked you a question Bella."

It had been years since he'd felt her skin properly. Her body was firm but gave a little against him, like they were made to fit. The thought gave him hope and made him want her to submit to him. She remained silent, trembling slightly but otherwise unmoving. He closed his eyes against her neck. The warmth of her, the solidness of her under him after years of fantasising about it, was driving him over the edge.

"Edward please," she whispered, her tone more anxious than when she had said those same words in the car. Hearing his name on her lips again, in such a sweetly desperate note, made him shudder against her. She squeaked beneath him, feeling his sudden erection pressing against her. She frantically tried to free herself, only resulting in rubbing herself against him, the friction making him groan against her ear. He took the lobe between his teeth before he could stop himself and sucked a little. Bella became so still he would have thought her dead if it hadn't been for her little rabbit breaths against his collar.

"Bella…" His voice was low and rough and nothing like he had ever heard it before. He was holding onto his self-control by threads, his want of the girl pinned beneath him almost another entity in the room.

"Bella, we are not leaving this room until you take it back."

He gave her a moment but she had stiffened under him, stubbornly keeping her silence. The beast in him, the part that was dark and dangerous, that wanted submission and control, demanded that he make her bow to him.

"Bella." There was a note of warning this time. "Take it back and you can leave now". He pressed his nose into her hair, breathing in her magnificent scent. It went straight to his crotch and he automatically rocked himself against her, seeking friction. She squeaked again and he gripped her wrists tighter, determined that she wasn't going to run until he had gotten what he had asked for, one way or another.

"If you don't take it back right now, I will make you," he lowered his lips to her ear, "by any means necessary".

He pulled back and looked down at her face. Her chin was tilted up and away from him, her eyes tightly closed against him. He could read determination in her face. He was simultaneously overjoyed and fearful. He didn't know how strong his control was, how far he'd go.

"Have it your way," he murmured and lowered his mouth to her neck, gently sucking the skin. He heard her gasp and try to buck him off, goosebumps rising under his hands. He continued, lowering his mouth to her shoulder then working his way across her collarbone.

"Take it back Bella," he whispered. She said nothing, body taut as a piano wire. He lowered his mouth to her cheekbone, steadying her head with one arm when she tried to pull away. He kissed across her face, down to her mouth and pinched her wrist. When she opened her mouth to yelp, he pressed his tongue inside. She struggled weakly against his hold as he swirled his tongue lazily around her mouth, sucking her tongue lightly. He heard her moan a little and another shred of his self-control snapped.

He broke the kiss, the taste of her in his mouth making him dizzy, and kissed his way back to her ear.

"Come on Bella, take it back."

He pulled back and looked down at her again. Her eyes were wide, staring back at him. He could see fear and determination but he could also see raw want. So raw she probably hadn't even identified it but his beast growled appreciatively and clawed at his skin, desperate to take more of her.

His hand slipped between them and his fingers slid under her top, resting on the waistband of her jogging pants. Her eyes widened and fear took over completely.

"Take it back Bella," he whispered, trying to send her a frantic message with his eyes before he lost all control. He was begging her not to make him take it further but she stared up at him, fearful and so fucking beautiful. She was panting, her skin pink from exertion. He could see drying wet spots on her neck where his mouth had been. His fingertips brushed the top of her panties.

"I take it back, I take it back!" Her voice was raw with urgency. "Edward, I'm sorry, I don't hate you, I take it back!"

Instantly he sprung up and away from her. He fought to remain controlled as he looked down at her, dishevelled and trembling on his floor, twisting his face into an appropriate sneer.

"Of course you don't, nothing with a pussy does."

He regretted the words the minute they left his lips but it was too late. They were out and he couldn't take them back. She scrambled away from him, slipping twice before righting herself, and struggled out of the door into the dark corridor. He heard her lurching her way down the hall, her bedroom door slamming loudly in the stillness.

After that night she never spoke a word to him that he didn't argue, demand, force or cajole out of her.

He wasn't the only one she had cut out after that night it seemed. Still these girls meant nothing in the long run. He, Edward, was her future. Fuck, he was her whole world. She was still resisting him but he was working on it. The fear of her impending absence stung him. He would let her leave if he could be sure she would come back to him, if he didn't think, in some small corner of his being, that the second she got a whiff of freedom she would run and keep on running. He wanted her so desperately that he didn't know how to handle it. Almost always, he handled it badly. His heart ached as he remembered the one instance she had stopped fighting and he had gotten a glimpse of what it would be like for them.

He was fourteen when Renee's cheating scandal broke. Turned out she had been seeing a small-time baseball player, Phil something, when he was transferred, on loan, to a local team. Bella was dispatched to the Cullen household whilst Renee and Charlie turned her home into a war zone. Edward gleaned, through covert spying operations, that Renee had tired of small-town life and wanted to travel, wanted to live. That she had been attracted to the nomad life Phil, and his career, offered.

Edward had always liked Charlie, though he'd never outwardly shown it. He saw him as steady and solid, a male version of Bella, and he was both admiring and envious of Charlie's attachment to his daughter. It surprised him when, after weeks of fighting and recriminations, Charlie told Renee she could have whatever she wanted. It surprised Renee just as much. Edward overheard Charlie telling Carlisle, over a glass of scotch, "I love the damn woman. I'd do anything to keep her with me. If it means travel then that's what she gets".

Edward would never admit it to anyone, but secretly, those few weeks were the best of his entire life. Yes, Bella was miserable and her misery tore at his insides, but suddenly she was leaning on him.

The foundations of her world were shaking, and she had looked around and finally seen that he was the one constant in her life; the one person who would never leave her. He was the one person she could always always depend on, even when she wished it otherwise.

For Edward, those few weeks were bliss. Bella still didn't really acknowledge him in public, but she did look for him and it made him giddy to see the way her face relaxed when she spotted him nearby. Although she didn't actively seek out his hands, she stopped avoiding them. She allowed his touch and, on the very best days, she would relax into him and sit, still and silent, as he stroked her skin.

Edward's best day was probably Bella's worst. He came down the corridor and found her huddled at the top of the stairs, listening intently as Carlisle and Esme spoke softly about Renee and Charlie splitting up, about what would happen to Bella, about what would happen to Charlie.

He had touched her shoulder and she had sprung up, her face wet with tears, her expression so haunted he wanted to throw up, and ran into her room. Edward had to swallow down the rage that Renee would be so careless with Bella.

Lying in the dark that night, he heard the pitpat of bare feet on wooden floor and his door opened a crack. His heart contracted painfully when he saw Bella standing in his doorway, unsure in her nightgown. She looked so lost, so breakable. Careful, so as not to startle her, he scooted back in the bed and pulled the covers down invitingly. He could feel the whump of his blood slamming through his body as he silently prayed that she would accept his offer.

She seemed to sway for an eternity, the moonlight making her skin look translucent, like she might turn to smoke and vanish out of Edward's reach forever. He realised at that moment, looking at her beautiful broken face, that he would do anything to keep her with him. She was his Renee.

His soul sang as she made her way swiftly to his bed and climbed in, pressing her back into his stomach and pulling his arm around herself, clinging to him. He pulled her in, curling around her protectively, stroking and shushing and whispering pleas and promises of eternal devotion in her ear until she stopped shaking and turned into him, fisting her hands in his t-shirt and fell asleep with her face pressed tight against his shoulder. He watched her sleep the entire night. It was the only time in his life he had been the one holding her afloat and not the one pulling her down.

It didn't last of course. As Renee and Charlie found their equilibrium again, so Bella began pulling away from him. The more she retreated, the harder Edward tried to hold onto her until they stalemated, their situation carrying on from that day to this; Edward trying to secure her to him even as she twisted in his grasp.

The memory of what he'd had for one night still twisted in his gut, as did the mention of Renee, but for completely different reasons. Edward felt his face fall into a frown at the thought of the vapid excuse for a mother fate had deigned to force on Bella; Renee's self-indulgence, Renee's self-denial, Renee's self-importance.

He was seventeen when he'd overheard Renee, drunk on wine one Saturday night, confiding in Esme that she intended to sell the house and take Charlie and Bella travelling.

"What about Bella's education?"

Esme and Carlisle were big on education and Edward could hear the note of disapproval in Esme's tone. Renee was either too drunk, or too self-absorbed, to hear it.

"Oh we'll get her a tutor and they have the internet everywhere these days." Renee had laughed prettily and Edward wanted to claw her throat out. "Besides, it's an opportunity of a lifetime and she can learn anytime she wants."

Edward was shaking with rage. Who was this woman who thought she could take Bella from him? He'd turned and found himself walking, unconsciously, to Bella's room. He stood outside the door, breathing heavily, trying to calm himself. He turned the handle and the fates smiled on him as the door gave easily. She hadn't locked it. As if she knew he'd come that night.

Bella froze at her desk as the door swept open, her face showing her panic. Edward stepped in and closed it behind him. This had been forbidden since he had turned twelve but he'd broken every other rule, what was one more? He stalked towards her frozen form, positioning himself behind her chair.

"What are you doing?" His voice was even as he dropped his hands onto her bare shoulders, caressing his fingertips down the back of her neck. She was tense beneath his touch.

"Homework," she whispered. He could feel her warring with herself on whether to endure his attentions or run and he tightened his grip in response, making her cringe. After what he had just heard he needed to have his hands on her, needed to make sure she was here with him. He forced his hands to be soft and gently rolled her neck muscles under his fingertips. To his surprise, she went loose under his ministerings, her head tipping forward. He watched, fascinated, as her back dipped and loosened, feeling her shudder as he pressed his fingertips deeper into her muscles. Bella let out a noise halfway between a moan and a sigh and Edward moved closer, pressing against her back.

The door was flung open and Renee had danced in, her eyes sparkling with wine. Bella cringed away from him instantly and he had hated Renee a little bit more. He swept out without acknowledging either of them, his skin aching for this new, soft Bella his hands had unlocked.

A few weeks later, Bella's childhood home burned to the ground.

Esme watched him for months after that, when she believed he wasn't looking, a thoughtful frown on her beautiful face. He gave nothing away. He had been careful to show the correct amount of shock and surprise at the news. He went with Carlisle and Charlie to sift through the debris and rescue anything salvageable. He found Bella's childhood bear, singed and wet from the fireman's hose but otherwise unharmed. He presented it to her, like a gift, under the eyes of both sets of parents. She took it, dropping her eyes and bowing her head, and he knew that she had seen what it really was; another step in his quest to conquer her. Yet more proof that he was her world and that everything else was expendable.

It had worked out better than he'd hoped. Carlisle and Esme had insisted the entire family move in with them immediately and not long after, Renee got Charlie to accept a six-month job swap with a cop in a town in the South. They had sailed off, leaving Bella in the hands of the Cullen's; in the hands of Edward. They had returned briefly, then left again for a year-long job swap in Europe. Edward had to assume fate was on his side. Bella was his, he just had to get her to accept it.

It was from this period that Edward took his inspiration; the only useful thing Renee had ever done. Renee had used someone else to break Charlie, employed his own jealousy against him and gotten her way. Surely the same would work for Bella, her and Charlie were so similar?

Almost overnight, Edward became a lothario. It was easy for him, his overly generous genetics and intense attitude already making him the star of several young crushes. When he decided to play it up, those crushes swiftly became wildfires and spread as such.

He never dated anyone from their school, his one concession to Bella, but every other woman in the Washington area was fair game. As he got older, and more experienced, the women became more plentiful, flocking to him and preening under his attention. He'd spent the last five years using every beautiful woman he could find in an attempt to pry a flare of jealously from the resolutely unmoved Bella. He had only stopped after the realisation that Bella was relieved when she saw him with someone else, clearly hoping his attentions would be permanently diverted; not jealous at all. This revelation had robbed him instantly of his libido.

Edward's eye dropped to the stretch of leg Bella was currently draping over the end of the desk and admitted to himself, if to no-one else, that for the last two years the other women had been a necessity. Since Bella had moved in on a semi, then permanent, basis he was surrounded by her smell, her breath, her skin, her voice 24/7. He could smell her faintly all over the house, all the time. He greedily drank up flashes of her neck, the curve of her cheekbone, the slide of her calf. He knew Bella had noticed, could tell by the fact that she had slowly added layers upon layers until she'd come home from school and change into more clothes than she'd wear for going on an overnight hiking expedition. Watching her, sitting in her tank top and pants, Edward thought that this was the most of Bella he'd seen since they were children; definitely the most he had seen since she'd started bowing under the intensity of his obsession with her. He'd used other women as an outlet to stem his urges, to stop himself losing control with her.

Dropping his gaze from her, he flicked on in the journal in his hands. Angela's name cropped up frequently in the next half. He actually quite liked Angela. She was good for Bella; quiet, unassuming, sweet. He was glad he hadn't driven her away at least. He thought back to the last time he had actually seen Angela.

When Bella had moved in, Esme had gently suggested that perhaps it would be healthy for her to have a life outside of the bedroom she took refuge in. Edward drove her, in silent fury, to a party one Saturday night not long after her sixteenth birthday, dropping her off without a word and peeling away before both her feet had hit the sidewalk.

He drove around, a seething mass of pent-up passion and vehemence, until he couldn't take it anymore. He parked the next street over and walked along the dark verges, towards the pounding music. He pushed through the mass of teenage bodies until he spotted her.

Her hair had come loose from her plait and had cascaded over her shoulders, shining under the light in a way that made Edward ache to bury his hands in it. She was perched on a stair, talking to Angela, Jessica and the Eric boy. Edward's hands tightened into fists. Her face was wide open in a way it never was for him, her smile bright and genuine. She laughed and the sound tinkled across the room to take a glittering, jagged root in his heart. She shouldn't ever be this happy without him. He ground his teeth furiously.

As if she could feel his presence, her head popped up and she stared at his scowling face, the happiness melting from hers in response. She stood abruptly, whispered to Angela, grabbed her coat and made her way over to him. He saw Angela give him a small uncertain wave but ignored her, his eyes trained on Bella. Bella, who walked straight past him, without acknowledgement, and out into the warm July night.

He stalked out after her, taking back the lead, and she followed silently. The only noise he could hear was the soft scuff of their shoes on the concrete. It was as if the night had taken note of his anger and decided to vacate the area. They had gotten into the car and he started the engine without a word, pulling out and coasting quietly down the empty street.

Edward drove without thinking, trying to get a grip on the raging beast under his skin, the beast that snarled its demands in his ear. Why was she so happy without him? Wasn't he good enough as a friend? Was it Eric? That thought blackened his mood still further and he gripped the steering wheel as if to strangle it.

"Edward, home is the other way."

Bella had chosen the wrong time to speak and her sullen tone set the beast roaring in Edward's ear. He yanked the car to the side of the deserted road and switched the engine off. Bella had jumped in fright but he was across the divide and on her before she could make a sound.

He pressed his hands under her top, one cradling her ribs, the other around her waist and on her back, and yanked her closer to him. She struggled but the space was cramped and there was nowhere for her to go. He needed her. Right then he needed her to submit to him or he was going to lose it, but she showed no intention of doing so. No fucking self-preservation in the girl. No fucking sense.

"Bella," he growled, biting her lower lip as she whimpered beneath him, "you are going to stop struggling and you are going to kiss me."

She shook her head, trying again to wriggle free of him. He tightened his grip, fingers digging into soft flesh until she yelped.

"Bella." He could hear his voice disintegrating under the stress of her. "If you don't do exactly what I say, I am going to go back to that party and beat the shit out of that Eric kid, do you understand?"

He knew it was a low move but he didn't care. He wanted her. He wanted her to want him, even if it was false, and if he had to manipulate her selflessness in order to get what he wanted, so be it.

After a tense second, she nodded minutely and stopped struggling. She was still stiff as a board beneath him and he snarled in her ear, shaking her a little.

"Bella," he warned and felt her force herself to relax in his hands. As she relaxed, he felt the beast quieten. He moved his mouth across hers, skimming her lips with his tongue, feeling her shudder. He pressed down and she obligingly parted her lips, allowing his tongue to slide into her mouth. He felt her gasp against his tongue as he kissed her, flicking it against hers, sucking hers gently, pulling her closer. She remained unresponsive until he growled into her mouth and shoved his body against her harder. Only then did she give, moving her mouth against his tentatively, uncertainly. Her tongue swept across his and he slid his hands into her hair, kissing her harder, deeper.

She'd never kissed him back before. It was incredible. It was like his entire body was shot through with light, like this was what it had been waiting for. This kiss, in the dark and the heat, the smell of strawberries and leather and damp earth mixing in his head and making him shaky.

He kept her there a long time, until his back ached from arching across the seats and Bella began shifting beneath him, clearly feeling her own aches. Still he kept her there, ignoring the pain blooming across his shoulders in favour of the dark pleasure of her mouth against his, her tongue in his mouth, their breath mingling together.

Eventually he had pulled away slowly, resting his forehead against hers heavily, both of them panting, although he couldn't be sure their reasons matched. He slowly withdrew his hands from her hair and let them slide down her body. She shivered.

He leaned back into his seat and watched her unflinchingly as she tried to straighten her clothes and her hair, her mouth swollen from the pressure of his, her hands trembling slightly and her eyes bright with tears. She angled away from him as he started the car. When he pulled up to the house she got out, without speaking, and went straight to bed. She didn't leave her room for the entire Sunday.

After that, no matter how hard Esme begged and pleaded, Bella would not be persuaded to attend any parties. When the subject was broached her eyes would dart to him and her fingertips would press her lips before she shook her head decisively and fled to her sanctuary.

Edward sighed at the memory, remembering the pleasure he took from those illicitly gained kisses. Of course it had taken all the incidents together for Edward to gain any real insight into Bella. Up until, and including, then he had done nothing with her beyond kissing and mild exploration of exposed skin. Entirely PG-13. Edward smiled darkly. Sure, he had threatened more but he'd never actually carried out that threat; Bella had always submitted long before it was necessary. It was her reactions to him that caught his attention on that particular case; that had shone a clear path for him to take to beat down Bella's resistance of him once and for all.

In the weeks after Bella stopped speaking to him voluntarily, the memory of her mental reaction and her physical reaction to him played heavily in his mind. Specifically, the radical difference in the two. It became clear to him that Bella's body was tentatively on his side, reacting to him the way he desired, but that her mind was still to catch up. Edward decided he needed to fight the war that was Bella on two fronts.

Divide and conquer.

He bought a copy of 'The Art Of War' and read it in full view, deriving pleasure from the way her eyes would flick, fast as lightening, to the title, to his face then away, only to repeat the motion again a few minutes later. Uncertainty was the name of the game. In short, he set about psyching her out.

He came downstairs topless whenever he knew Bella was out of her hiding place, stretching and lounging lazily, enjoying the way she watched the muscle under his skin ripple and roll with his movements.

"See something you like?"

She would blush and stammer and turn away, her confusion and embarrassment making his jeans tight. He fucking loved teenage hormones. Correction, he fucking loved Bella's teenage hormones.

A few weeks after this, he began timing his showers to coincide with her leaving her bedroom. The shower across from her room was deemed hers because she was the only one who ever used it; the shower at the other end of the hallway closer for Edward, Esme and Carlisle using their en-suite. Edward moved his stuff in one morning, his toiletries crowding hers out in the small space. He left the door open.

She stood, open-mouthed, as she got a full show of his body through the clear glass shower wall Esme had installed because she felt shower curtains were too 'icky'. He chuckled quietly, pretending he didn't see her, letting her gape. He wasn't built like Emmett but he was lithe, quietly muscled, toned in a way that suggested lifting and shifting every day rather than hours spent in a gym, honing and sweating. He turned, locking eyes with her and letting her know he'd known she was there the whole time, giving her the full frontal show. She fought it valiantly but her eyes drifted. Just as he knew they would. As soon as she set eyes on his cock, she blushed a red so deep he wanted to vault from the shower and press his face against her, and backed into her bedroom, stammering wordlessly. She couldn't look at him when he dropped her off in front of the school building that day.

He continued to shower open-doored and, although she tried not to, she couldn't help but sneak glances as she stumbled past on her way to breakfast. She blushed every time he entered a room for weeks. It was divine.

But still Bella resisted him. Sure she spared him glances and blushes, but she still avoided contact; avoided him. Edward decided that it was time to step up his game.

When she moved into his home, she had started evading him more vigilantly than ever. Her bedroom door was almost constantly locked and she would sneak in and out of her room, trying to tiptoe past his door without alerting him to her presence. He never played music at home, preferring silence. All the better to hear her with.

Sometimes he would let her sneak past a few times in a row, sometimes for days in a row, but he was always aware. As time went on, he thrilled in lulling her into a false sense of security then striking suddenly, throwing his door open and dragging her inside to torture her a while. The fear, the anxiety, the small spark of defiance all sent a thrill through him, a thrill that was uniquely Bella.

She would stumble into his room, blinking and disorientated, then back against his desk to watch him warily. Some nights she would cringe and keep her eyes on the floor, silently endure his teasing and his laughing at her, until he bored of her deference and allowed her to escape.

On other nights, she would tilt her chin defiantly against him and fight. He loved those nights best of all. It sent black delight sliding through his veins when he saw the spark in her eye as he stalked towards her like a predator. On those nights he usually had to wrestle her down whilst she struggled and battled him. He preferred dragging her onto his bed but he'd take the floor if she was being particularly feisty, or if the ache to feel her pressed beneath him was too much for him to bear.

She fought dirty on those nights, all teeth and nails and fury, knowing that once she was pinned beneath his body she would remain there until he decided she could leave. One night she'd managed to sink her teeth into his arm and he'd worn the mark like a badge for weeks after. On those nights, it took all of his strength and skill to take her down without serious injury and it was more of a triumph when he finally forced her into submission. His blood would sing with the high of adrenalin and victory, and he would proceed to kiss and touch her until the wetness of fright on her face gave way to the wetness of want between her legs. On those nights he delighted in his prize

Edward could tell she was frustrated and angry by what she saw as her body's traitorous response to his touch. He could see the veiled references to it in the pages of the journal he held in his hands, dark words and phrases born of frustration and confusion. He smiled his wolf smile, the one he had secretly practiced until it was perfect before unleashing it on an unsuspecting Bella. She'd stopped dead, her eyes emptying of everything except him, and dropped the books she had been carrying. She had blushed for an hour after. He was putting it down as an unqualified success.

The fizz in his blood stilled and died as he read the last few weeks worth of entries in her journal. His fingers tightened on the pages until they went white, her words searing into his brain. He was shaking. He looked up at her, oblivious to his presence, and black rage slid across his skin. The beast was back, clawing frantically in an attempt to get at the fragile beauty a few feet away, demanding Edward claim her immediately. He took a few minutes to swallow it down, until he was just rigid with fury, then he launched the journal through the air.

It landed square on her keyboard.

Bella swung in fright, the sudden movement ripping the headphones from her ears and, as she saw him, she fell backwards and landed hard on the floor. He hunted her across the short expanse of carpet, kicking her chair clear across the room and stood, towering over her.

"Who the fuck is Jake."

His voice was deadly calm and Bella instinctively backed up further until she hit the wall. She stared up at him, her soft brown eyes panicked and teary. She looked from the journal, to him, and back again. Edward crouched in front of her and she flinched.

"I asked you a question Bella." His voice was cold.

"I…I…I…" She stuttered, terror robbing her voice. Edward sprang back up and snatched the journal, opening it and reading in a falsetto voice.

"Jake kissed me tonight. Kissed me! It was amazing. He picked me right up off my feet. He was so strong. In a good way I mean, not like you know."

He threw it at her feet, vibrating so hard he thought his bones would literally pop from his skin. Someone had touched his Bella. Someone else's mouth had been on hers. Someone else's hands had been on her. With her fucking permission.

Edward reached down and yanked her to her feet. She stumbled forward and crashed into his chest and he batted her away, slamming her into the wall. She whimpered as her back made contact with the solid structure but he ignored her, wrapping a hand around her wrists and pinning them above her head. She struggled against him but his grip was iron.

"Edward please." There were tears in her voice but he was beyond hearing. The beast was demanding her submission and Edward was inclined to agree. He pressed himself hard against her.

"Is he this strong Bella?" he taunted, squeezing her wrists, making her wince and turn her head away. Edward leaned close and whispered, "Don't you fucking turn away from me". She turned back instantly at the menace in his tone, her wide scared eyes meeting his, silently pleading. He loosened his grip on her wrists a fraction but he was angry. Pleas and apologies wouldn't cut it.

"Have you fucked him Bella?"

She shook her head frantically, a few tears spilling across her pink cheeks. He gave into the urge to taste them and flicked out his tongue, rolling the salty warmth around his mouth. He could tell when she was lying and she was completely sincere right now. His body relaxed a little, dropping onto her with a little more pressure. He couldn't stand it, the thought of someone else inside her. His Bella.

"What have you done with Jake?" Edward spat the name like it was venomous, his mouth close to her ear. Her fear was intoxicating, giving her natural smell a sharp tang that pleased his nose. "Bella, now is not the time to go mute." He shook her a little for emphasis.

N…nothing," she stuttered, her voice thick

"Bella, Bella, Bella," Edward chided, "now is not the time to lie to me. I will give you one last chance before I really lose my temper".

"W…we kissed a little," she whispered, so quietly he was surprised his ear picked her up; but then, hadn't he always been in tune to the frequency of Bella?

"Is that all?" Edward's voice was clipped.

"We touched some."

He flexed his hands involuntarily, itching to meet this Jake and beat Bella's name out of his head, and Bella yelped. Edward eased the pressure on her wrists again.

"Where has he touched you Bella?"

"My waist," she mumbled, her head low, "my back."

"Has he touched your breasts?"

She nodded slightly and Edward felt such a pressure behind his eyes that he had to squeeze them shut tightly, hoping whatever was back there wouldn't explode quite yet.

"With just his hands or with his mouth too?"

"Just hands," she squeaked. And blushed. Edward pressed his lips to her cheekbone, seeking the comfort of her familiar heat under his mouth.

"What about your pussy Bella? Has he touched you there?"

Again, she frantically shook her head and the movement caused her hair to brush against his throat, enveloping him in her scent.

"So you were sneaking around, pretending to go to study groups, and you were seeing this Jake. And for what? A few adolescent kisses and a wandering hand?" He snorted derisively and Bella tensed against him.

"Not everything is about sex Edward," she snapped, her eyes flashing, "Not everybody wants a quick fuck then home before midnight."

Hearing her say fuck sent a thrill straight down his spine. He loved Ballsy Bella. It was so much more fun to make Ballsy Bella submit to him that Meek Bella.

He pulled back and stared at her. She was biting her lip, realising what she had said too late.

"Is that so?" Edward smiled wickedly. "It didn't stop you having a look when I showered though did it? How about all the times I've kissed you, touched you?" She shivered against him, his breath cool against her neck. "You were wet then weren't you Bella? Are you wet now?"

He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, diving on top of her and pinning her in place. He straddled her waist, pressing her arms down with his knees, and pulled off his t-shirt. She struggled harder, staring up at him in shock, but he simply smiled lazily down at her and undid his belt buckle.

"Edward please!" She was frantic now, a frightened and fragile thing beneath him. He gave her a wolf smile.

"Yes, you'll be saying that quite a bit in the very near future." He pinned her down with his body and shoved his jeans off. They hit the floor with a thud and Bella struggled at the press of his naked thigh against hers.

She was pushing his shoulders as he lowered his mouth to her neck, biting lightly up to her ear, sucking gently, stroking his hands under her top. He slid his thumbs across her breasts and whispered, "Is this where he touched you?"

"Edward." Her beautiful, broken voice in his ear as she squirmed made him bite down on the point where her neck and shoulder met. The sensation made her squeal and buck up against him; in pleasure or hope of escape he couldn't be sure.

"Bella," he replied, his voice low with need. He pulled her top up until it rested just under her breasts, and pressed their bare stomachs together. Her eyes widened and her hands gripped his shoulders. He took advantage of her momentary motionlessness to slide his mouth across hers, pushing his tongue into the warm space beyond her teeth. He kissed her slowly, lazily, deeply. He felt her heart quicken in response and knew instinctively her panties would be damp.

He pushed his thigh down between hers and pressed it against her. She panicked and struggled, only succeeding in pressing herself more firmly against him. He groaned at the heat and the damp and she squeaked again, trying to back up, but he pressed her hips down, holding her still.

"Why is it that your body knows to yield to me and yet you just keep fighting?" He rocked his thigh against her experimentally and was rewarded with her eyes momentarily rolling back in her head.

"It feels good doesn't it?" He murmured against her mouth as he did it again, his eyes on her face. The skin on her cheeks glowed pink as she stared up at him, utterly torn and utterly confused.

"Fuck you're beautiful."

Shock crossed her features but was quickly lost as he rolled his thigh against her again, eliciting a half-moan this time. Her features were painted with a perfect mix of raw fear and raw want. Edward wondered if anything but that delicious blend would ever turn him on again. It was so beautifully Bella, so perfectly Bella, so essentially Bella.

"So he didn't make you come?"

He didn't need an answer to the question, didn't really need to ask it, but he wanted her to know what was coming.

"It's not the same as when you do it yourself," he murmured, sliding his hand down her stomach at the same time as rolling his thigh against her. "You only have to focus on the feeling, not the motion getting you there. It's so much more Bella, so much more. And it's mine to give."

Her eyes snapped back to focus when she felt his hand pull her panties down her thighs and off, throwing them with his discarded jeans.

"Don't panic Bella," he whispered, kissing her neck, "I promise I'm gonna make you feel like you're flying."

She was almost hyperventilating against his neck, her ribs fluttering against his compulsively, as his hand slipped down between her thighs. When his fingers caressed down the sensitive button of nerves, she yelped and simultaneously tried to pull away as her body tried to push forward.

"Bella," Edward chided, slipping his hand down further. "I told you not to think. Let your body lead you for once."

He stroked her wetness gently, waiting out her panic, until the pleasure building deep in her abdomen overtook everything else. He watched her face intently, waiting for the subtle tensing and easing that indicated she was floating for him, then slid his finger carefully inside her. She breathed in sharply, tensing momentarily before his stroking, once again, delivered her into the arms of exquisite sensation.

Edward licked her neck, her ear, her mouth as he murmured, "you're mine,you're mine, you're mine", against her ear. He meant to say 'I'm yours' but he didn't have the words, didn't know how. He worked her slowly, wanting to build this pleasure, make her writhe and ache before bringing her release. He wanted her to remember her first orgasm at his hands for eternity. He intended to make sure she did.

He worked her a little longer, stroking and fondling, feeling her quiver beneath him, feeling triumph sizzle under his skin. When he was sure she was completely submerged in bliss, he moved close to her ear and whispered, "Bella I want you to lay still. Don't move or I will be very cross."

He leaned up from her, gauging her reaction. She lay motionless below him, her eyes closed, panting, skin stained a beautiful pink from his toying. His heart swelled painfully at the sight. He slid down her body, until he was positioned between her thighs, then removed his hand. His soul soared at the involuntary noise of disappointment that escaped her lips.

"Don't worry Bella." He leant down. "I'm about to blow your mind."

He felt her tense when his cheek grazed her inner thigh but found it hard to concentrate on anything but the gorgeously open girl in front of him, waiting for him to show her true happiness.

His tongue dipped into her and she bucked against his mouth, a gasp of shock accompanying her hands in his hair, feebly trying to push. Or maybe trying to pull, he wasn't sure. The feel of her fingers against his scalp made him groan.

He gripped her hips firmly, forced them down onto the mattress, then continued his slow, gentle rhythms on her. He dipped inside then flicked higher, hitting the sweet spot, then back inside. He continued until Bella was a moaning, shaking ache of need under his mouth and only then did he push his tongue inside, hunting out the rough spot that brought so much delight and working the tip of his tongue on it.

Bella's cry was the greatest sound Edward had ever heard. She arced up into him as she fell apart on his tongue. His prize flowed, sweeter than honey, over his lips, making him groan in response and press his mouth into her, soaking her up. He continued his caresses until she had ridden her wave and stopped moaning, but not trembling, against him.

Languidly, he slid up across her and landed nose to nose. Her eyes were glazed as she looked at him, the fear still there but minimized, overshadowed by a hint of surprise and a heavy dose of dreamy euphoria.

"Bella." He pressed his mouth to hers, letting her taste her own sweet self on him. "That was just an introduction to the pleasure I intend to show you." He licked her slightly parted lips and whispered, "A taster".

As he lay heavy on her completely slack limbs, Edward couldn't help but wonder, a little smugly, if he hadn't finally conquered Bella Swan.

Well lovelies, let me know what you think. I'm toying with the idea of doing this from Bella's POV - let me know if you think it's needed/if you'd enjoy reading a Bella POV. As always, I'm flattered that you've taken the time to read my ramblings. Thank you.