Devil Incarnate Chapter Twelve

The sound of running water was all Bella heard when she woke early the next morning. Time was running out; they'd have to move quickly to inform Zion of their acquisition. A million things needed done, a hundred items checked off a list. More meetings, more decisions, more arguments. 

Instead of worrying about any of that, Bella made her way into the large adjoining bathroom. The shower was big enough to hold ten people easily, with shower heads on three sides and the ceiling. Even at forty-seven, her husband’s handsomeness stole her breath. The sands of time had been kind to him, sharpening his angles and strengthening his jaw. Regular workouts undoubtedly helped, keeping his muscles long and firm. His back was to her, showing off numerous tattoos across his shoulder blades and down to his tapered waist. Saliva pooled in her mouth at the thoughts in her head, but she wasn't the slightest ashamed.

He remained angry with her, of which she was certain. For a fleeting second, she doubted her ability to help him cast those feelings aside. With a fortifying breath, Bella stepped into the shower behind Edward. 

Only a slight stiffening of his back indicated his awareness of her presence. Wordlessly, he ducked his head and rinsed the last of any bubbles down the drain. Hardly a breath of space remained between them, yet she only touched him with her lips. Pausing to kiss each inky swirl, she traversed his skin with intent. The Cullen crest, the dates of their children’s births, a cross with his grandfather's name scrawled inside it, and a pair of wings with their anniversary just above. He had more; Crann Beatha tattooed down the outside of his arm and Crann Cothaithe tattooed under his ribs to symbolize the cross, but those on his back held the significance of what she wanted him to remember now. 

His muscles flexed as he turned the water off, his harsh breathing replacing the steady sound. Moving around to his front, she kept her gaze down at his thick length and sank to her knees. Only the barest hint of hesitation showed before she took him in her mouth. Finally touching him, she gripped his ass and pulled him closer, taking him into the back of her throat. 

Instantly, his hand tugged on her hair. "Eyes on me," he commanded. 

Though it was difficult to meet his gaze, she did as he asked. If there was ever a moment to submit to his authority over her body, it was then. The tip of his tongue snuck out to run along the underside of his upper lip, causing her to clench her thighs. A deep, rumbling moan escaped him when she curled her tongue around the head of his cock. 

Just as she thought he would lose it, he yanked her to her feet and crushed his mouth to hers. Instinct had her wrapping her legs around him as he picked her up, and she let out a yelp as the cool tiles met her back. No words left either of them as he entered her body, as he took what she could never deny offering him. His thrusts pushed her into the wall, leaving marks that she would later find had turned to bruises. Tears burned the backs of her eyelids; she'd needed the intimate connection with him, but keeping her gaze locked on him as he took her roughly was harder than she could have expected. His chest rubbed over her tight nipples with every movement, pooling heat in her core. Edward pushed her legs wide and high up the wall, his cock hitting her so deep it caused a scream to rip up her throat. 

“Please, please, please,” she repeated, holding onto his hair as though it was her only lifeline.

It seemed he still had nothing to say. She missed his dirty talk, the way he egged her on when he wanted her to come. It wasn't until she tasted her tears that she realized they’d overflowed, spilling down her cheeks. Abruptly, Edward halted his movements, dropping his head to the crook of her neck and letting her legs fall. Mortified at the idea he might walk away, she clutched him closer, wincing at the slap of his palms against the wall.

The last thing she’d anticipated was pissing him off more. She needed him, plain and simple. He was the only thing she could cling to when she felt herself going over the edge, her buoy in stormy seas. Unsure what she meant to say but prepared to beg, she opened her mouth.

Before she could utter one syllable, Edward pulled her away from the wall, cradling her head in one hand with the other resting low on her back. The whisper of rumpled sheets only made her tears flow faster. One minute he fucked her like a stranger, and the next he laid her gently on their bed. Rising above her, he watched her face as he entered her slowly. The sensation of being both physically and emotionally filled came on strongly. The green of his irises nearly glowed above her, and wave after wave of intense strokes brought her to a different edge. No longer set adrift, she was once more at home in his arms. What had started out as a silent apology had turned into something else completely. He needed her too, she knew, though occasionally she forgot. It was easy to think he would never need someone as simple as her to give him anything.

His fingers found her nipples, twisting until she arched and moaned. His hips no longer snapped against hers, but tilted and pressed, retreating and meeting once more. Sensations built within her until she felt the coil snap and she trembled below him. He never once let his gaze move from her eyes, from the expression of devotion she knew she wore. He’d known what she couldn't ask for better than she had herself.

He cursed as he stilled deep inside her, pressing kisses to her face and neck. Gathering her in his arms, he rested beside her and caught his breath. “I might be frustrated, but that doesn't change how much I love you.”

“I just wanted to connect with you after you spent the night somewhere else. I don't mind fucking you in the shower.”

“But that’s not what it was. It was a way for me to use you, to find my revenge by taking it out on your body. It didn't feel right, especially when I saw you crying.”

“I’m just overwhelmed, that’s all.” Stretching, she rolled to her side and propped her head up.

“I know. We all are.” He sighed. “I don't want you to take unacceptable risks because you think it’s the only way to make this insane plan work.”

His words stung, despite knowing how he felt already. “It’s not like I've never done it before.”

“That’s my point exactly. I hated when you went rogue, so to speak. You scared me to death with your need to take everyone out, and I hated even more that you were pregnant when you did most of it.” He took a deep breath. “I thought I’d never forgive you for taking those risks, but I found a way to do it.”

Heedless of her nudity, she sat up. “Forgive me? For doing what you did on a daily basis?”

Edward sat up as well. “For doing any of it while pregnant. You endangered our daughter as much as yourself. Quinn could have been motherless, Bella.” His long fingers gripped her chin. “Ever since the first time I laid eyes on you, I haven't been able to look away. You are mine, my world, and I wouldn't know what to do without you. I’ve grown accustomed to the fact that you’re as tough as any of the men I employ, but you scared the fucking shit out of me when you took such risks with my daughter inside you.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him she hated him for seeing her as weaker. Tempting as it was, she didn't hate him and never could. “I stopped when I began to show. When there might have been an actual chance of doing damage to Maeve.”

“How would you have felt if you’d miscarried?” When she wrenched her head from his grasp, he continued, “You would have blamed yourself.”

“Clearly, you would have blamed me too.”

Fumbling, tears blocking her vision, she climbed from the bed to gather her senses. They hadn't brought themselves closer to each other, they’d only created a larger chasm.

“Isabella.”

Her skin burned with the use of her full name. Ignoring him, she disappeared into her closet and jerked on clothing. What the fuck had she thought, that she could tempt him with her pussy and he’d listen to every idea she had? That he would automatically agree to let her steal the weapon back and even encourage her to put her neck on the line if she blew him?

When she left the closet, he still sat on the bed. “I didn't sleep somewhere else. I merely slept fewer hours than you.”

Looking away from the temptation of his nakedness, she cursed to herself and marched down the stairs. She must have slept deeply to not even realize he’d joined her in bed. Somehow, it made her feel ten times a fool for sucking him off in the shower.

Others were in the kitchen; Kiernan, Connall, Bedelia, and Angela. Bella grabbed the coffeepot and nearly cried again when she saw it was empty.

“Hey,” Angela greeted her. “I’m making more.”

Bella slumped into a chair at the small round table. The other three were talking about living in Ireland, apparently trying to assimilate Kiernan into their life. Fisting her hands in her hair, Bella pulled until it hurt. It didn't take long for the rich aroma of grinding beans and brewing coffee to bring her back to her senses.

“I don't know what’s going on, sweetie, but have some coffee before you lose your shit.”

Looking up, Bella accepted the heavy blue mug from her oldest friend. “Thank you.”

“Can I help?”

Taking a big enough gulp to burn her tongue and her throat, Bella cringed as Angela sat. “Doubtful.”

“Come on, what is it?”

“Oh, you know, being a woman in a man’s world.”

Angela’s brows went up. “Really, baby girl?”

Bella shrugged. It might sound stupid to someone else because she’d always been right alongside Edward. After they took down the Santiagos and the elder Cullens together, Bella was viewed as her husband’s equal. It was hard to turn around years later and feel that anyone had treated her differently for being born a woman.

“I don't fucking know, Ang.” 

“You’re the richest female entrepreneur in Seattle, for God’s sake. How many times have you made the list for that shit?”

Shrugging again, Bella knew Angela was right. “I can’t explain it. Edward and I don't agree on me going after the bomb to get it back. He brought up the year we never speak of, the one where I went on a killing spree while pregnant.”

“Well, good Lord, B, I was terrified for you then too. You are a badass, there’s no denying it, but the men take precautions too. They come to a consensus about whose strengths are better suited for the job. No one goes off half-cocked, not anymore.”

“Doesn't mean I enjoy being told what to do by my husband.”

“Your partner. In business, in the Family, in life. You agreed to give him a say when you put that ring on your finger. His opinion is just as valid as yours. That’s why we compromise, remember?”

“Why did you have to become a psychologist?” Bella mumbled around the rim of her mug.

Angela grinned, patting Bella’s hand. “To give you shit.”

“Well, congrats.”

“Listen. You know I love you and I agree with you about ninety-nine percent of the time. You know I don't think husbands get to tell their wives what to do—not if they expect to keep their dicks. But I also think you have to come to an agreement on what risks are acceptable to you both.”

“If I don't do this, if someone else goes in there, and they fuck it up . . . How can I live with myself? If the world ends because I didn't have the nerve to attempt an impossible task, how do I look my babies in the eyes?”

“Dammit, Bella.” Angela wiped away tears. “I try hard not to dwell on the what-ifs of this situation. I can’t lose Ben, and I damn sure can’t watch Ethan and Bethany die. But neither do I want you to die saving them.”

“There’s no alternative. We have to dwell on it in order to fix it.”

“Everything about this sucks.” 

“Yeah, it does.”

Drinking more coffee, Bella tried to come up with a way to make things right with Edward. He was the one refusing to budge, to compromise. She knew if the roles were reversed, she wouldn't want him going in there alone. But it had to be done, and it had to be seamless. If Zion caught them, they could blow the bomb early and all the effort she and the others had put in would be worthless. 

Edward’s frame filled the doorway, and she watched him walk to the coffeemaker. His suit jacket was impeccable, his tie in a perfect knot. There wasn't a single hair out of place, as though each strand knew better than to dare to defy him. Edward’s iron will was one of many aspects she loved about him, and yet it was the one thing she wanted most to defy.

Turning, he left the room with a mug in his hand. His rebuke lashed across her heart as if he’d whipped her publicly. When everyone gathered for the morning meeting, she would go along with whatever he said.

But she would make her own plans.