Devil Incarnate Chapter Eighteen

Storming from the house, Bella let her emotions fuel the pumping of her legs. She ran until she couldn't see the house, until the only vision in front of her was the endless green of the forest. Her lungs burned, sweat stung her eyes, but it didn’t matter. All she could focus on was getting away.

The very idea that Edward had allowed that woman, that vile, vapid idiot, to remain in their home was beyond her comprehension. We’re offering her asylum, he’d explained.

What the fuck was she meant to do with that?

It was as if they’d been transported back twenty years ago, and Bella was the insecure young woman, unsure of Edward’s intentions. Her opinion was ignored, her feelings disregarded.

After they declared the threat level all clear and everyone had resumed a semblance of normalcy, Bella followed Edward into his office. “Why would you let her stay?”

Edward only stared at the amber liquid flowing from the crystal decanter into his tumbler. “Because she’s clearly a victim.”

Bella wanted to tear her hair out. “Of her own doing!”

“No, of her mother’s doing.” With the glass in hand, Edward sat on the leather sofa. “You know that family is insane.”

“And yet, you’ve welcomed one of them into our home. Ours, Edward, not yours. You didn’t even consult me!” And therein lay the burn. He’d not bothered to discuss anything with his wife before waltzing his ex-fiancé into a guest room, however remote the possibility of him marrying her had been.

“Considering your . . . attitude lately, I didn’t feel I needed to stop and question what you’d think.” His gaze remained unwavering on her face, his smile lazy. Wholly unaffected while she died inside.

“My attitude?” Infuriated, she moved away from the door, standing over him. “I’m not a recalcitrant teenager.” 

“Then don’t act as one.”

Though she overflowed with fury, his tone remained mild. Afraid she’d do something idiotic, such as punch him in the balls, she left the room. 

It was worse, much worse, when she ran into Gianna everywhere she went. First, her voice carried down the hallway as she made herself comfortable in the bedroom they’d cleared out for her. Maeve and Caitriona were already forced to share a room, and now Quinn had to move in with Layla and Abby. At least Bella knew he’d be happy with his girlfriend and her sister, but it wasn’t what any of them would call appropriate. They had to make an exception because of the situation.

Then, Bella went to the kitchen to speak with Tyler about dinner and avoid everyone else, only to have Gianna come traipsing in with demands about what she could and couldn't eat. Bella had glared at the back of her head, wishing she could shoot lasers from her eyes at the very minimum. Fed up, Bella fled the house for the back porch. Several of the teenagers were enjoying the pool before the weather took a turn, and she thought watching them frolic would take her mind off things.

It wasn't meant to be. Gianna followed, settling herself on one of the chaise lounges, draping her dress around her legs and tilting her head to the sky.

“It was generous of Edward to let me stay.”

Saying nothing, Bella smiled tightly in the general direction of Gianna’s body, refusing to focus on her or acknowledge her out loud.

“I know I would never allow a woman in my home who wasn't family. I’ve sent my son to some relatives out of the country because I just don’t know what will happen.” After a pause, Gianna continued. “This whole mess could have been avoided if he’d married me as he promised.”

It was the final straw. Willing back fresh tears, Bella stood, heading down the stone steps to the backyard. She wouldn't have allowed the woman to stay either, if her opinion had been considered. Everything was entirely too overwhelming for Bella to process, so she ran. Long used to the path through the forest, she jogged with no actual destination in mind. 

Her stomach raw, she dropped on a fallen tree, her head in her hands. She wanted her life back. All the work she’d put into who she’d become was swirling down the drain. Her bookstore, the coffee roaster, the children’s futures. Nothing was guaranteed anymore, not even her marriage. If they weren’t murdered with a super-powered bomb, they would tear each other up from the inside.

It had already crossed her mind that perhaps Gianna’s arrival was another stunt. If Zion sent her to infiltrate their family and screw up their marriage, then they’d succeeded in one of their goals with little effort. She swore she could simply tell her stepfather, Ivan, to call off the threats. He had other means of world domination, according to Edward’s account of their conversation, and didn't truly need their help. He’d indulged his wife’s and stepdaughter’s need for cruel revenge by involving the Cullens. Enjoying a game of cat and mouse on the way to destroying the world seemed to be an extra cherry on top of their depravity. 

While the world burned—or swallowed itself, technically—they intended to hide in a bunker they’d dug. Then, Zaytsev and his men would emerge as the sole survivors and restructure the system to their liking, placing themselves at the head of the ruling class. If they were successful, it wouldn't matter who lived through the blast. They’d be forced into a life created by a terrorist. 

Bella didn't believe for a minute that Gianna was sincere. She would no sooner help Bella and her offspring than she would admit she wasn’t as powerful within Zion’s organization as she fancied herself. Perhaps she thought to save Edward so she could have him for herself, but that would be hard to accomplish with the number of family members he intended to save in the process.

Sucking in a deep breath and wiping her face, Bella rose from the tree. Gasping, she realized she wasn't alone in the forest after all.

“I couldn't let her go back to the man who beat her.”

Though his eyes were guarded, Bella thought she saw a flicker of empathy on Edward’s perfect face. Searching his features, she yearned for the simpler time of just a few weeks ago. “She’s disrupting our lives further, when we’ve already been through so much.”

“I can’t help that.”

“You can. You won’t.”

“What do you want from me, Bella?” His voice had risen in the hush of the woods, his cheeks red and his chest heaving. “I can’t single-handedly prevent the end of the world!”

“Neither can I!” Hands clutched to her heart, Bella felt scalding tears race down her cheeks. “We’re fucked, Edward! Utterly fucked.”

“Don't say that. We’ll figure it out, maybe with Gianna’s help.”

Speechless, she could only stare at him. His eyes revealed nothing of what he must have felt, his face morphing into the steel mask she hated most. Shutting down on her; shutting her out.

“If you believe that, then you’re dead before you make the deal.”

His answering laugh was bitter. “I forgot, Bella knows it all.”

“I know who not to trust, especially come zero hour.” It was rapidly becoming apparent that her husband landed on that list.

“Are you jealous, wife? Is that it in a nutshell?”

Her fist connected with his jaw without any conscious thought. Narrowing his eyes, Edward remained otherwise motionless, his jaw rigidly locked in place. The second he moved, she ran.

The branches of the trees scratched her face and arms, tears blurring her vision. All she could think was that he’d always been faster. Running was no use, but her body acted on instinct. The house came into view, and she didn't slow her gait. Only once she’d reached the side door did she stop to pull on the knob. His palm smacked the door the instant before she yanked on it. 

“Don't think for one mother-fucking second you can strike me and get away with it.”

Reluctant to face him, she gulped in air. Her sides burned, her temples throbbed. “Planning to hit me back? Give me black eyes to match your whore’s?”

She heard his sharp intake of breath. “I have never raised a hand to you.”

“And yet, you’re currently preventing me from going in the house.”

“Oh, you can go in the house. Straight to our bedroom.”

Closing her eyes, she tried to decide what he had in mind. On one hand, she regretted hitting him, on the other . . . he deserved it. She could walk inside and go anywhere she chose, and he wouldn’t do anything with so many people in the house. She could go to anyone and strike up a conversation, forcing him to drop it.

But that would only delay the inevitable.

Edward dropped his hand, but his body heat melted into her from behind. Swallowing, she opened the door and trudged to the stairs. They passed a few people on the way, but no one gave them a second glance. Once she entered their room, she faced the windows overlooking the property, ignoring the closing of the door behind her.

The only sound was a whisper of fabric. Guilt, sorrow, and anger flowed through her. What had they become?

Edward appeared in her peripheral vision, his suit jacket removed and his sleeves rolled up. Bella refused to brace herself, knowing he would never hurt her. Not with his hands, at any rate. She stood straight and proud, glaring out the sheer curtains.

“Come here.”

She was already here, technically, so she merely turned her head to acknowledge him. 

“I goaded you, and I apologize for it.”

That was the last thing she expected him to say.

“I shouldn't have suggested you’re jealous, especially considering the subject of our disagreement.”

She blinked.

“However . . .”

Waiting, she knew the other shoe was about to drop. 

“You can’t do that, Bella. You can’t hit me. Imagine if we’d been in front of the others and they’d witnessed your disrespect?”

Finally, she found her voice. “See, if you don’t disrespect me by bringing another woman into my house, then I won’t do the same in return when you degrade me.”

He exhaled. “Why are we suddenly locked in a power exchange? Haven't we been equals for as long as either of us can remember?”

“No.” Her lip trembled, and she bit down on it.

“What do you mean, no?”

“I can remember a time when you had all the power, and that’s how I felt again today. Completely disregarded, as though I lack intelligence.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“It never is with you.”

“I didn't ask for any of this.”

She pressed her lips together. Neither of them had.

“Bella, I need you . . .” He shrugged. “I need you.”

Tears pricked her eyes for a completely different reason. She remained angry, but she needed him too. If the world ended tomorrow, what would they have to show for it? 

He’d tucked his hands in his pants pockets, but pulled them out when she stepped closer. With a sigh, he tugged her closer and buried his face in her hair.

“I don't agree with anything you’re doing,” she said.

“Same goes.” When she tried to move back, he clasped her chin in his long fingers. “Never hit me again.”

She would have dropped her gaze, but he held her steady. Instead, she closed her eyes, but only briefly. Squaring her shoulders, she contemplated the idea of just leaving him there instead of satisfying their carnal needs.

“Be grateful I didn’t punch you in the balls.”

He pursed his lips, and she saw that her lack of acquiescence pissed him off.

“Why are you acting like this?”

“Like a teenager who hasn't gotten her way?”

“I’m serious.”

There was no good way to answer that question. Because she would do whatever it took, because she couldn't stand the choice he’d made, because he insisted he knew better than she did. The list was endless.

“Are you going to fuck me or not?”

His brows lifted. “That’s what you want? An angry fuck?”

“I don't care what kind it is, but I’m about to give up and walk out that door.”

With his hand still on her chin, he yanked her face closer and pressed his mouth to hers. She tasted the fury, the violence he held in check. It burned acidic in her throat, flowing through her veins until she, too, felt violent. Pushing and pulling, she hurried to remove his clothes. He bit her lower lip hard enough she was sure it would bleed, and she cursed. Her shirt ripped as he grew impatient, her bra insignificant under his hasty fingers. Nipples pebbling, they ached as he twisted them, causing her to cry out. Urgently, he pushed her pants down and thrust three fingers inside her, his movements rough. 

When she closed her eyes and tried to focus on the feeling, he gripped her hair in his free hand. “Keep your eyes on me.”

She tried, but it was difficult to meet the intensity she found there. Seconds from orgasm, she gasped when he removed his fingers and held them to her mouth. Obediently, she opened and waited for him to slide them inside, then curled her tongue around them as he moaned. His cock pressed against her hip, hard and unashamed. The slap to her ass surprised her enough she yelped, widening her eyes and seeing the smirk forming on his pretty mouth. 

“Can't punish you if you enjoy the punishment.”

Bella raised her hand to slap him, but he blocked the blow. With her wrist in his grasp, he forced her arms behind her and pushed her face first on the bed. The gentle touch over her ass cheeks was meant to trick her into complacency, of that she was certain. Two seconds later, the sting of the slap sent a jolt to her pussy, and she panted into the duvet. He could go on spanking her for all she cared, especially if he intended it as her only punishment. She felt the wetness between her legs increasing, but she would not ask him to get her off. Each time he spanked her, he ran his fingers down to play with her clit, bringing her to the brink before backing off. 

Suddenly, he released her hands, and she felt his tongue make a path from her shoulders down her spine. Fisting the covers, she suppressed the threatening moan. Her hips lifted the farther his mouth trailed down her body, silently begging him to shift his attention. Edward urged her to roll over, and she gazed up to find him naked. A shiver ran through her at his impressive form, the muscles in his abdomen flexing as he kneeled between her legs. He took his time, sucking one nipple and then the other into his hot mouth. 

Unwilling to give him the satisfaction of touching him, she clenched her hands until her knuckles protested. The warmth of his mouth blazed over her belly and lower; finding her soaking wet, he lapped it up with the breadth of his tongue. A whining groan left her throat without permission; she didn't want him to know how desperate she felt. Blinking rapidly, she found him grinning at her as he curled two fingers inside her, swirling her clit with his tongue. He’d always treated her pussy as if it were his last meal, and he undoubtedly knew she was close. Tossing her head from side to side, she felt the tingling rise from her toes and into her legs. Her thighs trembled with the effort to stave off the impending orgasm, but just as she realized she couldn't hold out, he stopped.

Frustration nearly bubbled over, but she bit her lip. If he was playing a game, she could do better than beg him so soon. He began the trail of his mouth over her body once more, brushing her leg with his leaking cock. Undeniably, she wanted him, needed him inside her. Her inner muscles pulsed with desire, coming up empty. He left streaks of fire along the side of her neck, sucking her flesh into his mouth until there was no doubt he left a mark. The weight of him was a much-needed comfort, so she couldn't help but fist his hair and drag his mouth to hers. Their lips met, and she breathed him into her soul. He was the one to break, it seemed, as he slammed home while their mouths were fused. Her cry was of fulfillment, of the ultimate connection as their bodies became one. Tears dripped into her hair, her nails digging into his ass. Shoulders straining, he gripped the headboard for leverage and drove into her. Meeting him thrust for thrust, the coil tightened and she screamed out his name. Flushed and sweaty, he snapped his hips a few more times before collapsing next to her. 

They’d been entwined for so fucking long, but with daylight would come the stark truth. Though she didn't want to admit it, it felt entirely too much like a goodbye.