A/N: Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, alerted, and even favorite this story. It means so much to me that people are following it, even though I'm probably the worst writer and updater ever.

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight.

Warning: This and many other chapters of this story include very explicit and graphic scenes that are not meant for those who are underage. If you are uncomfortable with that, I suggest you do not read.

Note: Unbeta'd so all mistakes are my own.


After eating dinner, Jacob cocoons me while we lay on the sofa, watching meaningless television that I have absolutely no interest in watching. My mind is racing and I can't think of anything besides the news story, in which my father said that he was looking for me, even though as more time goes on more people lose hope in finding the one who they have lost alive.

I sigh on the thought that relieves me if only for a while, cluttering the blanket that is wrapped around me, and shake slightly. Seeing that three minute clip that has probably played over and over every time they recover the highlights of today on the news broadcast, has woken me up inside.

I feel like there is hope for the first time that I have been with Jacob. I will be found, and saved, and finally be free of him. I can't help but smile and nestle into Jacobs chest more comfortably, and realize that I have to make sure that he doesn't get suspicious from my sudden jumpy behavior. I have to act like I have been acting. Only now I seem to not know how to do that so easily with the constant reminding myself that this whole situation is only temporary.

I am just so excited, I need to calm down. Make Jacob happy, and leave him in the dark. I can't ruin my chances by setting him off, and somehow moving our location. But I know we must be near Forks, even if it is hours away, because he left last night and our channels are the same that are programmed back at home.

I am so into my own little world, that I don't even notice when Jacobs hand reaches under the bunched up material of my shirt, and rubs my stomach, back and forth, making me cold, but at the same time warming me with the heat of his hand, creating a pleasant friction from his motions.

I can't help but to feel ashamed that I let him touch me, and to admit that I find everything he does to be something that I find myself yearning for. I wonder if we both had met normally, if we would be in a regular relationship. I like to feel him, feeling me, knowing that I make him feel like a man. But I feel like I am betraying my father by sleeping with the enemy.

But this is the only thing that will ensure that when my father finds me that I will safe, healthy and ready to testify against my captor. Seduce him, my mind tells me and I gladly do without fighting myself.

I put my hand over his, and guide it up towards the lining of my bra, letting him sink his fingers under the wire. Then before I know it, he pinches my nibble hard and then whispers in my ear, 'Are you sure, baby?" Yes, more than you know.

I nod, and turn so that I am facing him, and bite my lip when I find him grinning, his eyes so intense that I can't help feel myself sink lower into his side, my panties moistening. My body shouldn't be reacting this way, but I can't help it. He excites me. "Come on, sweetheart, let me feel you."

And I do, I move to straddle him moving on my knees, my legs shifting on either side of him, but before I rub myself onto him, I take my shirt off with the swoop of my arms, my lacy bra coming down onto the floor when I unclasp it. Take control, make him think you want this as badly as he does. But I'm not lying. I really do want him.

I lean down and take his bottom lip between my teeth, and tug softly so that he slowly sits up and catches my mouth fully, lacing his tongue through my lips, meddling our saliva together. He thrusts upwards through the material between us, extracting a moan from the deep part of my throat that even surprises me but urges him on to do it another time and keep going.

I break apart from his mouth, only to have his hand thread into my hair and pull me down onto him again, holding my head so that I cannot more away from him, all the while, rubbing the hardness in his pants against me over and over again. He won't let me go, and I find the more I pull away, the more he doesn't let me. He's in control. He dominates me. I think I kind of like it to be honest.

When he does finally take his lips from mine, it is only because I am pushing so hard on his chest, to tell him he has to stop because I can't breathe. Instead he bites me, above the lace that my breast adorned only moments before, taking the flesh and forcing his teeth down so hard, I yelp. He looks up at me, his mouth still latched onto my skin, and tongues the spot, bringing slight relief, if only for a moment before it burns again.

"Make that sound again." I look down at him dumbly, not knowing what to say or do. How can I just do that again? I only made that sound because I was in pain.

"I-I can't, Jacob. I don't know what to do," I say, stupidly, putting my hands on his neck, feeling the tendons of his muscles underneath my fingertips ripple the more his tongue moves on my wound.

He chuckles against my skin, and then he grins, amused at my confusion. I don't understand what's so funny about what I have said, and huff, letting him do his own things as he continues to tease my skin and then goes in for the kill, biting me again out of nowhere close to where the material of the bra is close to showing my nipple if I lean down any more than I am into his mouth.

"Ow! What was that for?" I say, pulling away from him, my hand coming over my wet skin, the spots where he's bitten me sore and puffy red. I shift my legs off of him, and go to stand when his hand comes around my wrist and pulls me down to sit on his lap, his face breathing in the scent of my hair.

"You made that sound again," he whispers into my ear, flicking my earlobe with his tongue, wrapping his arms around around my middle. I pout, turning to face him, and say, "You did that on purpose."

"You know I did, I'm not gonna deny it. I liked it. I like that sound. I want to hear you make that sound when I'm inside you, thrusting," he tells me, playing with a strand of my hair, curling it around his finger, bringing it over to lay on my bite mark thoughtfully. "When you're begging me to make you come," he takes his hand and lays it down over my heat and palms it suggestively, forcefully enough that I moan, "And when you scream my name when I do."


I stare in the mirror of the bathroom, my eyes following the series of bite marks that move from the beginning of my shoulder, all the way down to my nipple on the left side. My fingertips trail lightly over the inflamed marks, and I can't help myself but to press down on them even though I know it will only sting when I do.

I've never been marked in such a way, and I feel as if Jacob is trying to tell me something. I hear him shuffling around in bed, changing the sheets around, and putting them in the laundry hamper down the worn down hall.

They are no ordinary hickey's. I can see where his teeth punctured my skin, and feel the tiny holes of where his teeth met. I can't stop staring. I don't know whether to be angry with him, for they will probably leave a scar they are that deep, or if I am fascinated by the way they cover my skin, as angry bloody wounds.


"Jake?" I ask, turning over to his side, breaking the hold he has on my waist that allows him to spoon me from behind and into his chest.

"Yeah, sweetheart?" He opens his eyes, and his hand starts to stroke my hair from the back of my head down along my back. I lay my hands gently down, the pads of my fingertips tracing along his smooth skin, and dipping under his arms to hold onto his shoulders.

I rest my head back into the pillow on my side, my left ear muffled, and feel a blush come from the sides of my neck to my cheek, my face feeling warmer than it should. Why am I so nervous?

"Have you ever - been with another woman?" I look into his blue and brown eye and can't help but feel a sudden twinge of panic in the deep part of my stomach. A part of me wants to hear what he has to say and the other part is too scared to even contemplate what his answer might be.

He smiles an amused by shy smile, and leans to kiss me on my forehead, and turns his mouth so that he is whispering in my ear, "No, never before you."

"Really?" I can hear the relief in my own voice, and I am embarrassed, but I don't know how I would have felt if he had said that I wasn't the only one. You're not suppose to like his attention, I scold myself.

"Yes, you were the one who took my virginity." I am in disbelief. He seemed he knew exactly what he was doing, and I was the one who was fumbling with her naivety.

"You've never been in a relationship?" I nestle the side of my head into his neck, feeling his Adams apple brush move down as he swallows before answering me.

"No." I look up at him surprised, and kiss his chin, the stubble tickling my lips, but I find that I like him rough and unshaved. I realize then, as he wants me for his own, that I want him in the same way. There is a thrill with knowing that you have claim on who you are enamored with, not that I am.

"Why not?" I ask, smoothing my hands over his bare back, feeling him shiver as I trail my fingertips over his spine, and back to his shoulder blades, threading my hands through his hair. Despite his psychopath tendencies, I think he's a great catch. Well, if we hadn't met the way we did, I might think so otherwise.

"I was never the type of guy girls wanted, I guess." He answered, his mouth muffled by my hair. "What about you?" I shrink back, not wanting to talk about myself but find that I am the one who roped myself into this conversation. I don't want him to become angry when we are actually for the first time having a real conversation with no difficulties.

"Me?" I ask, prolonging the inevitable. I know he will not let this go if I do not answer, he is relentless.

"Yeah, have you been with anyone?" I hear the curiosity in his voice, but an edge as well. I don't want him to take anything the wrong way. It seems he always does.

"I've had a couple of boyfriends, but never nothing I considered to be serious,' I answer lightly, keeping not a hint of wanting to say anything more in my voice.

"Did you ever do anything sexual with them, I mean I know you were a virgin, but did you ever fool around?"

"Yes, but only once."

"With who?" I feel my face heating up, and know that a blush is creeping around the beginnings of my neck and traveling up to my cheeks, spreading a faint glow of embarrassment that I do not want him to have the chance of seeing.

"I don't want to talk about that." I feel his hand still in my hair, and he moves to tilt his face back so that he can see my full expressed unadulterated and real.

"No, tell me. You brought it up." His mouth is turned down, and his eyes are stormy. I answer with the only thing that might get him to let up, "You'll get mad at me."

"I'm already mad that someone other than me touched you. Now tell me who so I beat the living shit out of him," I don't make a move, but instead stare at the where my hand lays o his chest, too afraid to look him the face, "Or do I already know who it is?"

"Stop it Jacob, it didn't mean anything to me, okay?" I finally look up and straight into his eyes, my voice increasing in volume and find that even as I am trying to control myself, I have hit a nerve with my agitation.

"It still happened," he says, as if it will do anything to change my stand point. I am so mad I could spit, with him acting as it has anything to do with him what happened before we ever got together, or better yet, before he stole me. "Bella, so help me, if you don't tell me -" His hand moves to my neck, and his thumb presses hard on my windpipe, and by then I am a blubbering mess from the pain and his anger that scares me into submission.

"It was E-Edward." I say, my hand pulling hard on his forearm to stop his thumb from digging into my skin, and making it so that when I speak, it burns deep inside, and makes me choke on my words.

"I knew it. I fucking knew it."

"Pleas-se, Jake, stop - " I plead, asking for his grasp on my neck to loosen. He lets go with a grunt and moves to pin me down by my thighs, his knees feeling like they are digging and breaking apart my bones with the weight he puts on them.

"How could you, with scum like him?" He asks, and takes either sides of my neck with his hands and just as he is about to close them together I scream, "You act like I wanted it!"

"Didn't you!" His face is red under his tan skin, and I can see the rage in his eyes, and the tenseness in his muscles as if he was about to coil and jump into attack.

I turn my face and his hands still, my eyes are red and puffy, my cheeks wet with my crying, and whisper, "No."

He stops his movements all together, and he leans down, and takes my head in his hands gently, his thumbs brushing away at my eyes that don't seem to want to stop brimming and says, "He forced you?"

I nod, and bite on my lip but in the deep part of my mind, I hear a voice say:

Don't forget that you did too.


"Bella? What are doing?" I hear Jacob ask from inside of the barn, his voice becoming louder as he steps closer to where I am on the ground, my arms spread out and legs limp on the seeping earth. It's finally rained here, and I think I feel the wetness of mud sticking to the backs of my worn out jeans.

"Laying down," I reply, closing my eyes and feeling the noon sun shine down on my skin, warming my face from the slight brisk of chill in the air. My neck hurts as I move it to speak, and inside I imagine myself kicking Jacob in the throat repeatedly while he struggles to move away but he's so weak that all he does is shake.

The thought makes me smile, but when Jacob comes and lays down next to me, I feel it sliding down my face, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. Can you stop interrupting my fantasies of killing you? Please, for just one second. I thought you were about to stop breathing.

"You know I used to do this when I was little," his voice rumbles in his chest, his voice is so deep in thought, and for a moment I stop killing him and instead see him in my mind, in the same spot I lay, as a child. The image almost makes me feel horrible for thinking what I have thought, but in the last moment, I decide he is no longer what he once was. I feel no guilt.

When people grow up, they become people that even when they little, could not think up. They lose everything that made them gentle and warm, vibrant and full of life and turn into something tainted and hard.

I turn my head look at the side of his face, and wish I could have met him before he lost everything that made him good, and turned into this monster that only caused me pain. Maybe then there would have been a chance for us.

Stop Bella. Don't try to feel sorry for him. But I can't help not to.


Jacob is carrying a box filled with the bowls that the horses use, bringing them inside the house to wash them clean and bring them back later, around the evening. I watch as he sets down the box and takes off his muddy flannel shirt, and walks around the kitchen in only a wife beater.

I sit down at the table, and too take off my light cardigan. Jacob is really going to have scrub these later. The marks of thick dirt are heavy, and cover the complete back of the sheer material, and leak through. I can feel that's it's damp. I am running it over my hands, about to drop it in the laundry hamper Jacob keeps by the door to the basement near the far end of the stove when both Jacob and I still from the sound of a knock.

I immediately turn and look at Jacobs face and find that it has grown hard and ready for anything that is on the other side of that door. I'm scared by the determination I see on his face and for a moment I want to cower at his feet and tell him that he doesn't have to worry. I won't let anyone take me away. But that moment passes and I'm unsure of what to do.

Do I run to the door? Do I tell whoever is on the other side of it about the kidnapping, rape and countless abuse Jacob has inflicted upon me or do I remain still, listening to my own heavy breathing and watch the pulse in Jacobs neck quicken.

I don't have anymore time to deliberate on what to do before I see Jacob pull a gun from the inside of the doorway to the basement and wondered how many times I had escaped death in his hands everytime I angered him.

There is another knock. And this time it sounds persistent. "Jake-"

"Get the fuck upstairs and lock yourself in the bathroom," He says before I can say anything more to try and figure out how he's going to handle this situation. I feel tears come to my eyes and I bite down on my lip. I don't move.

Jacobs eyes leave the door, and look back at me. "Now, Bella or so help me-"

"Is anybody home?" It's a man, and he doesn't sound angry or anything like what I expected. I expected brute force, menacing even, but I wanted to. It doesn't sound like the beginnings of a cop trying to hatch out a plan to get the criminal to open the door, and for a second, I feel my forehead crease with confusion.

In fact the voice almost sounds too friendly. I see Jacob walk to the door slowly, and see him move the rifle to aim and hear a clicking noise, and my heart jumps into my throat. Before I am able to pull him away and tell him to not shoot, his arm comes out and opens the door so suddenly that even the man in the pinstripe suit on the other side is anxious.

"Oh, hey. I -" He stops talking when he sees the gun cocked in Jacobs arm and the cold look in his eyes. He has soft blonde hair and warm blue eyes, but I can see that he is scared for his life and he should be. Jacob is not any person to be fooled around with. He's dangerous.

"What the fuck do you want?" I'm shaking and I try to make him put his aim down but I can't even hear myself my heart is pounding so fast that it feels like it's living in my ears.

"Hi I-I'm a representative from Forks Avenue Real Estate, and I would only like to have a moment of your time," the man says, his Adams apple moving as he swallows deeply, his eyes rapidly moving to look anywhere but at the barrel that is only inches from his face.

Jacob doesn't detect much threat from this man, but I can see that he is apprehensive, and even looks beyond the man and onto his land for any other people that might be hidden and ready to arrest him. He doesn't want to be caught and seems he won't be.

I don't feel disappointment as I should but fear, Jacob doesn't listen to my pleas until he thinks it's safe. He hesitantly let's down the gun and I can see the man slowly exhale the breath he must have been holding. "You mean like a realtor?" Jacob asks finally, but I can still sense a harshness in his voice.

"Yes, yes. If you would let me, I have a proposition for you, uh, Mr. Black I presume?" The man asks, and goes to set down his briefcase to shake hands with Jacob as he nods slowly.

"And you are?" Jacob asks in return, moving in the doorway to let the man in, and I slowly move to stand behind Jacob, holding his arm tightly in my hands. I'm still nervous and I don't know if I should say anything, anything at all that would save me and free me off this ranch. But I don't test anything while Jacob is armed. I'm not that stupid. Jacob would just shoot him and then turn the gun on me. And I don't want to die this early in the game.

I have more self preservation than that, and I value my life greatly, or what's left of it.

"Jasper. Jasper Whitlock. And the ma'am?" He turns to me and smiles despite knowing that I am greatly upset and embarrassed for everything he has had to go through, all because of Jacobs psychotic ways.

"Marie," Jacob says before I can open my mouth and say my real name. But more importantly that blowing it for Jacob, I am surprised that he seems to know my middle name without my having knowledge that he did.

"Pleased to meet you," He says extending his hand to take mine, and kiss the front of my hand which leaves me feeling naked. I'm already awkward and skimpy, only wearing a thin camisole and tight jeans dirty from the rain. "Have we met before?" He asks with a certainness in his eye to which I shake my head and refrain from keep my stare on him.

"My mistake." I don't say anything back to him but instead look down at my feet, and heeled tip of my hiking boots shuffling slightly on the floor as a result of my nervousness. I feel Jacobs arm come around my shoulder's and he presses me into his side. I feel the bare skin of his inner arm on my mine, and I don't move away. In fact, I almost find his touch comforting in this situation.

"Well, is there a place we can all sit down and -" Jasper starts to suggest and before he finishes his sentence, Jacob starts to steer us to the living room. We begin to sit down on the sofa and Jasper on the one opposite of us.

"So what is this all about?" Jacob asks, and I try my best not to react to his hard voice. I just want this man gone, and for us to stop putting up the act that we are what we say we are. Normal. A couple.

"Um, well, or agency is interested in this part of land. We feel we could make real use out of it." Jasper leans eager to convince Jacob that it would be better to his interest if he should sell it.

"My father left me this estate." I listen with my head rested on Jacobs chest, feeling his heart beat under the shell of my ear, and thump through my head.

"And where is he residing now?"

"He's dead, actually." Jacob responds smoothly, as if he's talking about something as insignificant as the weather, but I can tell he does so because he doesn't want to talk about something so personal. I look up at him, and press my hand against his stomach, telling him that I'm there for him. I'm surprised. I never thought he had a weakness.

"Oh, I'm sorry. How rude of me - " Jasper is flustered and speaking fast, but Jacob cuts him off with a simple sentence.

"It's all he left me."

"Would you be interested in selling it, if I should ask?" He's trying to recover the sale, and take the attention off of something that might hold Jacob back sentimentally. But I know that Jacob is a stubborn person and will do what he wants. He's not one to swayed. I should know.

"I wouldn't, actually. If that's all-" Jacob is frustrated and even beginning to stand, but he leans back only for a moment when Jasper asks, "Are you positive that that's what you would like to do Mr. Black?"

"Yes. I don't have anything else to really say." He pulls me up with him, and I can't really look Jasper in the eye, fearing he has discovered me and who Jacob really is.

"I'm sorry to have disturbed you then, but if you would happen to change your mind, here's my card." He hands it to Jacob, which he takes without looking, crumpling it in his hand.

"I don't think so." Jasper looks down, and breathes deeply, defeated.

"Well thanks for your time, Mr. Black, Marie," He looks to me pointedly, and for a moment I fear that he knows everything, but I can't be curtained because he moves his face before I can get a really good look into his eyes.


Jacob looks from the front door, lifting up the short yellow curtain in the glass, to watch Jasper move into his car and turn to the direction of the road, and drive away. It is only then when he breathes easily.

And then immediately after, he presses my body to his, and buries his face into my neck, "Oh, god, Bella. I thought I was going to lose you."

"You didn't, calm down," I say, and my voice if foreign to me. I am comforting my kidnapper, after he thought he was going to get caught, and I almost feel bad that he felt so anxious. I feel his harsh breaths, move from his chest through his toned stomach, and press against me.

"I love you, I love you so much sweetheart," he says and tilts my head back and I think I see form in his eyes as he speaks those words to me. He takes my head and pushes it toward him and takes my mouth and kisses me so deeply and urgently I feel his total and complete want.

I can't deny him. Not after telling me these things that I feel that he really means.


My legs wrap around his waist, fast and hard he presses me against the wall of the kitchen, grinding his hips into mine. "Jake," I moan, and lean feel him move slowly up the stairs, as to not drop me, and kick open the door to his bedroom, probably breaking the dead bolt, and comes down with me on the bed, suffocating me with his heavy weight.

I respond eagerly to his lips and hands when they move to flick the flimsy material of my shirt over my head with my bra, and then moves to unbutton the the front part of my jeans, bringing them down my hips along with my lace underwear I have taken to wearing around him.

I feel his cock rubbing against the nub of my clit, and I almost lose my mind, before he finally moves inside me, his jeans hanging on his legs from being pushed down. With every slap of his skin on mine, I feel the itchy crease of his jeans chav my skin, but I don't care.

I would be happy to spend as much time in this moment as I could.


A/N: I'm not really happy with this chapter, but I really wanted to get something up for you guys. Please leave a review if you appreciated my efforts.