Love Me Mercilessly

This o/s was originally written for the Lyrics and Lemons Contest and inspired by Hatefuck by The Bravery. I tried to write a little less fluff.

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or Hatefuck, but they're both on my iPod, js.

He'd been watching her all afternoon—ever since she first walked into the community center, looking every bit the angel her father and everyone else thought she was.

But he knew that under the conservative blouse, whose neckline was just low enough to show the string of pearls her grandmother had given her and the flowing skirt, whose hemline was just short enough to show her low beige pumps, she wore the tiniest scraps of lace that were the sexiest things he'd ever seen.

Nothing he'd ever tried helped him shake the grating annoyance he felt when she was in the same place and time as him by sheer coincidence, yet she refused to acknowledge his presence. Logically, he knew she was playing her part. But his logic was no match for the wound of rejection as she ignored him or the irrational jealousy as he noticed the easy conversation and familiarity that every other person in this stifling, self-righteous town had with his Bella.

She was being the Sheriff's dutiful daughter and the minister's faithful niece. Her entire life was wrapped up in who they thought she was. She volunteered at the library, attended Bible study every Tuesday night, Women's group on Thursdays, and weekly services, led the K-2 Sunday school program, and came to these monthly Combined Congregations Ladies Luncheons.

He was the prodigal son, returned to the stifling small town after dropping out of med school and a stint in rehab. Everyone in town knew why he was back, and they never let him forget. He should've felt lucky that a handful of the town's people were willing to give him another chance and let him teach their children piano and guitar at the community center. At least that's what he reminded himself when he was frustrated with his lazy pupils, who weren't practicing between sessions. That and the fact that he needed their monthly tuition checks because he definitely was not making enough playing weekend gigs at The Roadhouse.

Neither her family nor friends would ever accept him. She was too good to be sullied by someone like him, and in truth, he thought so too. So they would sneak around in dark and secret places, never acknowledging their mutual acquaintance in public. This was par for the course, and today shouldn't bother him more than any other day.

It's not like he ever introduced his band mates or bar buddies to the Sunday school teacher he was fucking either, which was even more reason why today shouldn't bother him. But it did.

Today was a busy one, full of lessons for him. Every time he walked down the hall, returning one student to his or her parent with a quick, generic progress report and picking up the next from the other waiting parent, he would glance into the Grand Hall where the ladies were lunching and listening to their speakers with rapt attention. And every time, he would nod or smile or raise an eyebrow in acknowledgement of their secret affair, and every time, she would turn away without returning the gesture.

Bella sat in the Grand Hall with her hands folded neatly in her lap and her legs crossed at the ankles like the proper young lady her father needed her to be. He'd raised her on his own, and he'd always expected her to act a certain way in order to support his constant re-election bid for county sheriff, to prove he could maintain peace and order in Clallam County as well as in his own home.

She listened intently as one guest droned on about morality and charity in the modern world, until the next would take the podium and drone on about the same. Or at least she tried. Every fifty minutes or so, her eyes and mind would wander into the hall, begging for just a glimpse of Edward. At every pass, he would make eye contact with her, and her heart would race. The heat rushing to her face always served as a reminder that she should be paying attention to the guest speakers, and she would quickly return her attention to them to avoid discovery.

She longed to be with him, to be seen with him, but his wild reputation couldn't take the cliché of being seen with the sheriff's kid and pastor's virginal niece. She scoffed when she thought of her own reputation. She hadn't been a virgin for a long time, not since church camp her junior year of high school, when she and her boyfriend Jacob had exchanged their virginity. She had thought they'd go away to college together, get married, and then start a family. That idea only lasted until their senior year when Jacob accused her of being a Jezebel and tricking him into her bed before announcing he was a born again virgin and was headed to seminary. She must have tricked him a lot, and it was usually his bed, not hers.

There were a couple of boyfriends in college too, but she hadn't been with anyone since returning to Forks. It had been so long, maybe she was a born again virgin too. Or at least she was until Edward came back.

But it was how the people of the town saw her, and she couldn't bear to let them down because it wasn't just what they thought of her, but of her father and uncle too. Just the thought of disappointing either of them brought her to tears. And she feared, if she told her father about Edward, he'd either shoot him with his service revolver or die of a heart attack, and she didn't want to lose either of them.

So she played her part, just like her cousin. Well, not exactly like Angela, because she waited until Ben put an engagement ring on her finger to lose her v-card. And while Bella knew all about Angela and Ben's pre-marital activities, Bella still didn't think she could tell Angela about Edward.

Edward headed back to the studio, this time alone, having walked out his last student. With nothing to distract him, his anger over being ignored grew. He was determined not to look for her on this pass, not to give her the satisfaction of turning away from him. Despite his intentions, he was unable to avoid the pull he felt to her and glanced as he walked by to see the luncheon was breaking.

Bella was chatting with several older ladies, while the men who had come to pick up their wives scrambled to gather and stack the folding chairs. Bella was trying desperately to wriggle herself out of the conversation so that she could escape to her car and call Edward. But these were the women who would talk to her until someone made them stop.

She'd noticed Edward had become more frustrated with every trip past the open double doors of the Grand Hall, and she wanted to connect with him, to make sure he was okay. Breaking away was difficult, though. She knew she served as a substitute for these ladies' own daughters and granddaughters who'd moved away long ago, and she was too kind to put them off with a disingenuous conversation. And that kindness was what drew these ladies to her.

Finally, the last of the prattling old ladies had been picked up by their husbands and sons, and Bella was able to head for the secrecy of her truck to try to reach Edward.

She hurried down the hall, paying more attention to her phone than her surroundings. She had no time to react when she felt warm fingers wrap around her wrist and yank her into a darkened room. Before she could get enough air into her lungs to scream, she was pushed against the closed door, her midsection pinned by a heavy pelvis and her shoulders held to the door with a muscular forearm. Another hand covered her mouth.

Unable to properly breathe through her mouth, she squeezed her eyes shut. The sounds of her rapid breathing were amplified against the hand that was both preventing her scream and holding her head to the door.

She felt him press into her even harder, his warm breath at her ear. He whispered low and gravelly, "Don't scream. We're in the studio; it's soundproof to protect the rest of the center from the pain of hearing Mikey Newton flub his way through scales.

Her body shuddered beneath him and then relaxed. She knew that voice.

He took half a step back to look at her. He was still holding her to the cushioned door, just not as tightly. His arms moved to either side of her head, and he lowered his face to where tears that welled behind her clenched eyes had escaped.

He was angry, but he never wanted to scare her like that. He wasn't thinking. Edward dipped his head and swallowed her tears with kisses, whispering, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

Bella sighed at his gentle kisses. "Edward, it's okay. I was just startled. I was trying to get out to my truck to call you." She looked up and saw the conflict in his eyes and the furrow between his eyebrows. She wanted to quell what was brewing beneath them.

He was a little surprised but still suspicious. He narrowed his eyes. "You were going to call me? Why?" he asked, punctuating each question with a nudge of his hips against hers.

She broke from his intense glare. "I was worried about you. You seemed upset the last time I saw you pass the meeting."

Edward took a step back and dropped his arms to his side. He and Bella were no longer touching. He ran his fingers through his disheveled hair; he must have done that a hundred times today. Closing his eyes and facing the ceiling, he let out his breath in a rush. "Oh, I get it. You were playing your part. You're still 'their' Bella. Saint Bella." He sighed in sadness and dropped his eyes to his shoes to avoid the look he knew she was giving him. He was just a charity case to her.

She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at him. "Stop that. You know that's not true. You only said that because you know it's a sore spot for me. You're just cranky and feeling sorry for yourself and taking it out on me!"

"You're just cranky and taking it out on me," he mocks back. "See? You're even still talking just like them, just like those judgmental old biddies. That's why you ignored me all day, right? You don't want to disappoint the holy crows. You don't want them to know the real you. Because if they knew the real you, they might not like you."

"Stop saying that!" Tears well in her eyes again. "I'm real with them. I'm real with you. It's just that different times call for different behaviors."

Edward stepped close to her, wrapping his long, graceful fingers around the back of her neck. It was a strange mix of menace and comfort as he stroked her jaw with his thumb. "So, they know the same Bella I know?" He inhaled deeply as he drew his nose along her long neck, bringing his lips up to barely graze the shell of her ear before asking her, "So, they know that when you kneel beside your bed at night, it's to suck my cock?"

Bella gasped in surprise, and it amused him. The contradiction between the sensual woman he knew and the sweet, innocent, perfect girl she showed everyone had always turned him on. He couldn't let her know that, though. He didn't want to give her that power.

Trying to compose herself, Bella bit her bottom lip. She knew she should be shocked and offended, but she wasn't. She shook her head. They didn't know. They didn't know how she snuck off with this man they all judged so harshly. Or what he did to her, what she begged him to do, and what she so willingly did to him. And they didn't know how she ached when she couldn't be with him either. Nobody knew that but him.

At least he should have.

Edward smirked at her admission. "No. They don't, do they?" He brought his other hand to the highest buttons of her silky blouse, only asking permission with his eyes, before he unbuttoned two of them. He pulled her collar to the side, allowing better access to her shoulder, and brought his lips to gently kiss it before not so gently biting the juncture of her neck.

He stopped, pulling back slightly, and cocked his head. He was listening, and a wry smile crossed his face.

For the first time since she'd been in this room, Bella became aware of the music playing.

She could see a mercurial glint in his eyes as he asked her, "Do you know this song?"

Her eyes were trapped, locked in an intense stare that not even the shaking of her head could break.

His smirk got impossibly cockier as he began to sing with the band. "If I put my hands around your wrists, would you fight them? If I put my fingers in your mouth, would you bite them?"

The intensity of the words and the music, combined with his look, caused Bella to inhale sharply and then hold her breath. Her hands moved from their place, flat against the door, to drag up his thighs. Biting her lip, she dipped her fingertips into the waistband of his low slung jeans.

Edward's lips returned to her neck and then to that spot just below her ear. He lowly growled, "I can't keep secrets that I know, how you want me. You can tear your nails into my skin, you won't stop me. You can twist and scream into the air, but no one can hear you here," in time with the music.

She tugged his waistband, pulling him into her, and he continued unbuttoning her blouse, pushing it down until it was trapped at her elbows. He couldn't pull it completely off of her unless she let go of his jeans, but he didn't want her to let go of them.

And there will be no tenderness
No tenderness
And there will be no tenderness
No tenderness

I will show no mercy for you.
You have no mercy for me
The only thing that I ask

Love me mercilessly

Edward pulled the thin straps of her delicate white camisole over her shoulders, causing it to fall down to her waist. He couldn't contain the self satisfied smirk when he saw she was wearing one of those bras underneath—the ones no one knows she secretly orders online... no one but him.

It would almost look like a modest piece, befitting the angel they thought she was, with the soft pink ruffles along the plunge that was really too deep to be decent. The sheer pink triangles did little to hide the even pinker buds below.

His hands came to her waist, above the bunched material of her blouse and camisole. His long fingers wrapped around her sides, and his thumbs traced her lowest ribs roughly.

Bella gasped at the feel of him squeezing her middle and the feel of the tips of his long fingers running up her back. Before she knew it, her pretty bra was undone and hanging on her forearms like the rest of her garments, still trapped by her refusal to release his jeans.

Edward dipped his head to take her exposed breast into his mouth, but she jerked his waistband toward her own center, and his head snapped up instead. His brow furrowed slightly, and his hard moss green eyes bore into her soft chocolate ones.

Lightly grazing the skin just above his waistband as she maintained her grip, Bella moved to his belt buckle. She began to push the excess length of his thick leather belt against the buckle with a raised eyebrow. She pulled it through loops and hardware, cinching the belt around his waist and releasing it with her own smirk.

Edward recognized the confident, sexy-as-fuck woman she was when she came to him—the woman she was when her daddy and the rest of the disapproving masses weren't looking. His eyes softened slightly, and he searched her eyes. He wanted her to see what he saw, to know what he knew. His mouth moved to her and he kissed her, hard. His tongue slid against hers, and she moaned around it, ignoring the impact of the back of her head on the door.

Bella was breathless when Edward drew back only enough to whisper with the music, "All your shunning friends, that despise you to your face. What would they say now, if they saw you in this place? Naked and breathless. Could you live with this disgrace?"

She attacked his mouth, at the same time roughly pulling at the buttons of his jeans. She dipped her hand into the open fly of his splayed jeans, and he hissed as she palmed his hardness.

Edward closed his eyes and rested his forehead on the door over her shoulder for a minute. It felt so good. It always felt so good. She lolled her head to the side so that her panting breaths were in his ear.

Still rubbing him with her flattened palm, her whisper was low and breathy, "I wasn't ignoring you. I saw you. I saw you every time you passed by that door."

He believed her for a moment. And then he remembered how she would turn away every time he'd tried to get her attention, and he was full of rage again. She was ignoring him, because she didn't want her real life friends to know about him, because he wasn't good enough for her. It didn't matter if he thought that was true. He didn't want it to be true.

Edward lifted his head from the door, glaring at her. He bent to reach under the hemline of her skirt. Bella could feel the rough calluses of his hands as they dragged up the backs of her thighs. His warm hands didn't stop until he was cupping her bottom. He smashed his lips to hers and thrust his tongue forcefully into her mouth. This kiss was not about turning her on. It was aggressive and raw and filled with dominance and claim.

Bella withdrew her hand from his pants and reached under his shirt to graze his chest and back with her nails, before sliding her hands back down to push his jeans and underwear down in one motion. The weight of his belt pulled the jeans to the floor, but the boxer-briefs were still tangled around his thighs.

Edward squeezed her ass so hard she shrieked. His lips barely brushed the side of her mouth as he repeated, "You can twist and scream into the air, but no one can hear you here," as his hands raked back to her upper thighs. He gripped them tightly to lift her to his height, leaning on her more, pressing his erection harder against her, and her harder into the door.

Bella locked her legs around his waist and tried to move her arms to his shoulder, but the new position caused her shirt to slip even farther down her back. It was trapped between her and the door, holding her elbows tightly at her sides. "Edward, I'm stuck. I can't move."

He looked down, seeing the issue, but didn't move. "You got somewhere to go?" She didn't say anything; she didn't have to. The silent plea in her soft brown eyes did more to him than any command could.

He detangled her arms from the sleeves and straps before his resolved re-hardened, and he took her wrists and held them firmly against the door. "Leave them there," he demanded, releasing one of her wrists and bringing his free hand under her hitched thigh to pull her panties aside. Feeling the dampness of her panties, he groaned. "Fuck, you're ready, aren't you? Maybe I should just turn away and pretend like I didn't see you, like I can't hear you panting like a bitch in heat, like I can't feel how wet you are for me. Just like you pretended not to see me all day."

Shocked and insulted, Bella's jaw dropped open. Before she could formulate a thought, though, Edward brought his other hand to guide his cock to her opening and entered her in one hard thrust.

Her head lolled back, and she released a gasp-shriek-moan. She brought her hands to cradle his face, but he wasn't interested in tenderness.

"I told you to leave them on the door!" he said, stopping his movements.

"No," she said with authority.

"No?" he repeats, wondering if she meant no to putting her hands back in place or no to the sex all together.

"No, don't stop," she clarified.

"Then put your hands back," he insisted.

Bella quickly complied, returning her hands to their position, flat against the door.

Edward resumed his hard thrusts. He was pushing into her with such force, her entire body was being driven higher and higher.

She began pushing back, back onto him and back against the door, using her hands as leverage and meeting his every thrust.

Every forward thrust was propelled by his deep grunts and met with her sharp gasps. His languorous withdrawals were accompanied by her moans.

Edward brought his hand up to her neck, and her eyes rolled back into her head. "Open your eyes," he demanded. "I want you to see me. I want you to see who's fucking you. I want you to watch me. Watch me take you and fill you, and I want you to remember that look every fucking time you turn away from me, every time you pretend I don't exist."

Bella opened her eyes to see the fire in his. She gasped for air, unsure if it was the intensity of his stare or the intensity of his pounding that was making her breathless. "Oh, god, oh, god, oh god. Please, please, please. I need..." she begged. "I need—I need to touch you. Please. Please. Please," she chanted as he drove into her.

Edward briefly closed his eyes and nodded.

With his unspoken permission, Bella gripped the back of his neck with one hand and moved the other to his hair. She pulled it hard, forcing him to tilt his head so she could bring her mouth to his. She could only kiss him in a short burst before she had to break it to breathe. She didn't pull away, though. Instead, she swallowedhis warm breaths that were coming quicker and louder.

She grabbed at the collar of his t-shirt, bunching the cotton up until she could feel the bare skin of his back. He was relentlessly driving into her, and she was clinging to him, her fingers flexing, causing her nails to dig into his skin with each thrust.

Edward's hand was still on her neck, and his every thrust felt harder and deeper than the last. Bella should have felt vulnerable and used, but she didn't.

She felt like she was letting go. Every time he pushed into her, she let go. She let go of everything and just felt. She felt him driving into her, crushing her harder and harder to the door. She felt the muscles in his back tense and coil under her nails as he pushed himself into her and held her in place, his fingers digging into her inner thighs as he constantly lifted her back into position.

Bella maintained the eye contact he demanded. She didn't want to look away, because the fire and passion she saw was the fire and passion that was missing from her life when she had to be who they expected her to be.

Bella knew Edward was close. She could feel his legs starting to shake. But she needed more. She stroked his forearm, sliding up to wrap her fingers around his wrist and pull it forward, to the front of her throat.

His eyes widened, stunned. She nodded, confirming her request, and his large hand encircled her delicate throat. He constricted his hand, and it was enough to make her breathing raspier.

Edward studied her eyes for signs of distress, but there were none. Her eyes started to flutter, and she was having trouble keeping the eye contact, but she maintained it even as she started to come. He stilled, swallowing her low, raspy keening. Her entire body was pulsing, and as she started to come down from her orgasm, he suddenly pulled out and then pushed back into her with as much vigor as before.

Still locked in their gaze, Bella gasped at the sensation, her most intimate parts still so sensitive and her nerves still so raw. she could't tell if the sensations were pain or pleasure.

Edward loosened his grip on her throat, moving his hand to the back of her head where he tangled it in her long hair.

He didn't thrust for very long before he stilled again, roaring in his release and grunting as he pulsed and filled her.

He was exhausted and wanted to collapse on the floor until he looked down at the twenty-year-old carpet and changed his mind. He was still holding Bella, and his softening dick was still inside of her. Edward shuffled over to the piano bench with his jeans still tangled at his ankles.

Bella had gone limp in his arms, glad he was carrying her because she didn't think her legs would function yet. He sat down, and she giggled at the thought of his bare ass on the piano bench, where the children of Forks first learned to play Chopsticks.

Cradling his face in her hands, Bella kissed his temple and his cheek, both eyes and the corners of his mouth, hoping to apologize for hurting him earlier in the day. She thought she'd been protecting him and herself, but she could see now that she really hadn't been.

Edward held her, caressing her back and waiting for their breathing to return to normal. The fury of his need to claim her, to be acknowledged by her, had faded into an intimacy that had always been an undercurrent of their secret rendezvous. Somehow, feelings had crept in, and though they hid their relationship from the rest of the world, they couldn't continue to hide it from themselves.

Calmed and fantastically sated in his arms, Bella made a decision. "Edward, would you like to come over for dinner tonight?" she asks, biting her lip, anxious that he may now reject her.

Edward looked up from his position on her shoulder and sighed deeply. "I can't. I have a gig."

Bella debated whether that sigh meant he was disappointed or annoyed. Even more nervous than before, she put herself out there one more time, quietly asking, "Maybe an early dinner? I can make something before you have to go."

His smile was so genuine and beautiful, it literally took her breath away. "That would be amazing," he responded, chastely pecking her lips and adding, "Why don't you come with me? To my gig. You can meet the guys."

Bella's bright smile was all the answer he needed.