Summary: Bella convinces Edward to make love to her a second time. But, as the saying goes, if you're going to play with fire, you're going to get burned. Oneshot, complete.

Rated: Mature for sexual content.

A/N: As with my other fics, this deviates from Breaking Dawn. I'm still going with their honeymoon being in Alaska. Isle Esme What? Renesmee Who? Picks up mid-honeymoon.

*****

Evenings in Alaska were beautiful. Despite my complaints about this place, and the constant layers of snow I couldn't escape, I could admire that. The scenery was positively glowing.

Unfortunately, I wasn't in as good a mood as my significant other. Edward was currently trying to sell me on the idea of eating. In fact, I'd rejected the last six meal plans he'd slung my way. For a vampire, he seemed to be more excited about food choices than I was.

"Lasagna?"

"No thanks."

"How about spaghetti?"

For a moment I considered it, then shook my head no. I was being terse with him. Surely, he could sense that.

"Have you outgrown carbs?"

"No."

"I take it you're not hungry."

He was mistaken. I had an appetite - just not for anything that could be filed under 'edible.' Nor was it something he'd appreciate.

Brushing the last of the snowflakes that had ended up in my hair, I turned, pantless, to his place on the bed. I'd gotten comfortable enough with him to pull being half-naked off. Really, when had I not wanted to remove articles of clothing in front of him? If it got me what I wanted, I could sacrifice my self-esteem.

"You know what I want," I hedged, taking a step forward.

Edward blinked at me, uncomprehending, before his mouth took the shape of a frown. "Then you know my answer."

I did. He'd denied my advances so many times, to get it in my head he'd say yes at any time in the near future was a dangerous delusion in the first place. But maybe, if I were to take another approach...

"You're no fun," I accused, kicking aside the pile of clothing that had been shed from my limbs.

He looked exasperated. Admittedly, my fits of immaturity weren't attractive. "Bella..."

"It's true. You make me nearly break my back ice skating, and then you expect me to come back here," I waved my hand around the cabin, "and what? Read? Edward, how many books are there even in this place, or are you planning to fly in more by helicopter when our supply runs out?"

Another blink. If that was the best he could do, I hadn't gotten ridiculous enough yet. Usually, he at least provided a sigh or two, sometimes even a snort at my lack of grace.

"Actually, I was hoping you'd sleep off your injuries."

"You were wrong."

"Clearly," he sighed. There, I'd done my job. As I made a movement to go forward, he scooted backward, eyeing me like I might harass him into agreement.

Proving him wrong, I removed my water-sodden socks and joined him on the four poster bed. The most that could separate us was a sea of sheets and pillows. "All this stress, no release..." I grumbled to myself, flinching voluntarily as my hands smoothed over the bruises that were swelling on my legs.

No pity or remorse distinguishable in his face, Edward watched me in amusement. That hadn't gone according to plan.

"Yes, you certainly took a fall," he agreed.

"Almost broke the ice, you mean." I corrected. "That would put a realistic spin on 'ice breaker.'"

Perhaps seeing no danger in teasing me, his hand rubbed my elbow. "I wouldn't let you drown. I don't have the proper breath to restart your heart."

My eyes rolled, darting over to him. "That's reassuring."

Catching my wandering stare, he grinned at me, my favorite smile reemerging. It died on a pleasant humming pouring from his throat.

I wasn't anywhere as content as he was. Usually, I was happy - euphoric to simply be in his presence. Nowadays, there was little that extinguished my felicity. However, for the last several days, I'd put my sights on a goal.

So far, there had been no compromise.

"You could at least pay adequate attention to me," I whispered, head bent and eyes cast down. "You haven't kissed me in hours."

A moment passed. An outtake of breath expelled from Edward. Embarrassment scurried through my chest, my cheeks ripening with color. The bed didn't squeak under his weight, but Edward's fingertip lifted my chin carefully to his direction. Painstakingly slow, he bent to capture my mouth with his. "Is that satisfying?" he asked against my lips. My answer was to persuade the kiss deeper.

Kissing Edward was a favorite of mine. Though I hadn't kissed anyone before him, I couldn't imagine enjoying anyone's lips as much as his. Even the texture was unlike anything I'd experienced - cold, smooth. Through him, I now recognized not all cold things were unlikeable.

He worked me back into the bed, my head nestling into the comforter as my tongue darted out on impulse to trace the planes of his lips. My hands bunched in the front of his shirt. Choosing stealth, I snuck one down to his stomach, passing over the taut muscles.

To Edward, that was the last straw. If he wasn't careful, he'd start grasping wildly at them. As much as he detested the idea, I thought it had promise.

"No." He pulled away from my obstinate mouth, shaking his head in a refusal his body couldn't possibly be listening to at a time like this. "No."

I wasn't going to take this laying down - or I would, but only on literal terms.

"Yes!" I cried stubbornly. If he was going to fend me off, he was going to have to pry my hands loose of him. And possibly break my wrists in the process.

Deciding it was best not to tear himself off of me for my sake, Edward lowered himself to his arms. His nose, against mine, was the only thing that was really touching me. He kept his body raised, trying not to spur me on.

"Let go." I clung harder. He tried - futilely - again to reason with me. "Let me go, Bella."

"Why?"

"Why let me go?" He snorted. "You're bordering insane."

"Aren't you supposedly masochistic?"

"Yes, and I'd like to refrain from becoming sadistic."

"A few bruises aren't going to kill me," I prodded. His eyes, losing their amber shade to a brown, snapped up to mine.

"I'm discontinuing this conversation, lest you do more damage to my sanity." The tone he'd taken with me was cold. I mentally flinched, my defenses prickling.

"Fine," I said. Clearly he didn't trust me to simply submit to that; I wasn't well known for giving up on the discussion of sex. Truthfully, there was no need for conversation. We didn't have to talk during what I wanted.

I knew my method wasn't foolproof, but I couldn't conceive anything else that might be as provocative.

Avoiding his eyes, my fingers slid from his stomach and down, over the front of his jeans. Unnerved by his silence, I watched Edward's face, the tics in it frozen with stress. His jaw worked, no noise flowing out of it.

The tension fading into a throaty moan, his nose dropped into my chest.

His control had been slipping with the kiss, and my undermining action had crushed it completely.

I regrouped from my very small (or large, depending on how you looked at it) success, and doubled my efforts. The moan returned. I'd be happy to just get him to see this wasn't so bad.

My voice sounded strange to me - calm and demanding. "Turn over."

Edward's face lifted. We stared at one another, assessing the situation. Underneath his chin, my heart was beating a mad tune. The look of fright on his face had me ready to further my persuasion, but he reluctantly abided, surprising both of us.

My eyes took him in as he relaxed on his back. The doubt on his face, the perfection of him without being undressing...

Excited, I wasted no time. If I didn't grab the opportunity now, there was no telling when I'd get another; Edward didn't even know what to do with himself laying there, arms at his side.

I crawled on top, settling into him. Darkened eyes pitched up to mine. I rocked once, directly on his hips, and they closed, his fingers tightening in the comforter as a spasm stole the control over his body.

If he had plans to leave, he would have bolted already.

Confidence secured, my hands roamed, unbuttoning his shirt one by one from the bottom upward. His inhale as my palms touched his bare skin was hard not to notice. His chest rose, but didn't lower. He wasn't breathing anymore, and I wondered if that was on purpose.

At first I'd wanted him on his back because I could access him more easily. In hindsight, I had power here. There was a slimmer chance he'd be able to displace himself from me if I was on top.

I began by kissing his chest, his body. He let me remove his pants without struggle, shuddering quietly. Edward didn't share a word of what was on his mind, but I could gauge the turmoil behind his expression. He was fighting the feelings I was rising in him, trying to give me what I wanted while combating his side of the pleasure.

He was gorgeous. Far more attractive than I was, but I couldn't really care. He'd seen me naked before, and he hadn't been disenchanted by it.

My tongue danced across his hipbone, very slowly. Air hissed out between his pale lips, and my lips hungrily continued. He strained upward and bucked, more eager than he had ever admitted for this.

Eyes rolling back, Edward shuddered when my mouth finally found him.

The sound of material being torn apart hit my ears, and with it, a piece of my apparel. Part of the comforter and my t-shirt were shredded in half.

He didn't stop there. My bra was off in a snap.

I was on my back in an instant, wind flying through my fingers. A more primal Edward had surfaced. Breathing erratic, I peered up at him, at his mercy. He swayed above me, looking me over, hooked a hand under my knee, and pulled me - carefully, I might add - toward him.

On one last Edward from me, we merged together.

I sucked in a breath that could be deciphered as both pain and pleasure, something that seemed to go naturally hand in hand here. A twinge of pain hit my abdomen, nothing like the first time we'd tried this, and then mellowed as I waited it out. Edward didn't move. I pushed through the pain, and when I opened my eyes, I admired the view suspended above me.

This was my husband.

A sudden stroke of pride seized my heart.

Edward's face was motionless, his eyelids covering his eyes from me. They opened a charred brown, like I was staring at the burnt remainders of a fire. He was opposing a different fire for me. A more dangerous flame we were challenging fate by playing with and hoping it didn't set us ablaze.

The heat burning in my stomach could have given it a run for its money. Reaching for him, I moaned my encouragement. He hesitated, but nonetheless propped me up. The tiniest friction set my hips rolling, and he hissed, hands finding my hips to rob me of movement.

Then, our breathing synchronized, he aided me in moving. The fire between us was fed, and I swore we were going to burn up in it.

I clung to him, unable to shift for myself. I could do little more than let him manipulate my body.

Over the last few weeks we'd spent together alone, I had gotten used to the kinds of things Edward could do to me, how he could make me feel. But this was different. Vastly different.

He was making love to me, and, God, it felt so much better than the first time. There was no pain anymore. If I had known it would feel this good, seam-splitting good, I'd have attacked him earlier.

To our combined chagrin, he nudged me away from him so our skin was no longer touching. Disappointed, I let out a whimper; the want for him to continue was too strong for me to care that I'd made such a pathetic noise. I thought I heard a snarl, but I was too busy fighting to get him back to me to pay any mind. As my complaints worsened, Edward shifted me onto my side, facing away from him. I couldn't say I liked that. Unless I looked over my shoulder, there was no way I could see him anymore. Impatient, I struggled in vain. The hint was taken. He sidled up against me and, burying his face into my neck, moved back into me.

My complaints weren't relevant anymore. I hadn't thought it could get better, but this position proved me wrong. Every move was deliberate. Controlled. I would have preferred something quicker to relieve the frenzy, but he'd taught me slow wasn't as bad as my previous verdict on it.

I shuddered his name, letting myself arrest to the pleasure. Enjoying it wasn't hard. I was surprised to find it was much easier than I'd given it credit for.

His fingers swept up my side, his left hand coming to rest on my hip. Twining the right in my hair, he eased a handful of it back from my throat. Then, without further ado, he carefully tilted my face back toward him and leaned over my shoulder. For a second, his mouth touched mine. Alarms should have sounded in my head. Edward and I had agreed kissing during things like this wasn't a luxury we were allowed. His control would be stretched thinner than it already was -- I still hadn't gotten him to kiss me open mouthed.

The kiss ended with him returning to his safe spot. His cold lips traveled my neck and back lazily, and my head settled back into the wrinkled sheet. I opened my eyes once to watch the wall before it became too much and they shut. As the heat mounted, my moans grew more wanton. I rocked back against him once or twice. Whether he felt it or not was questionable. It didn't matter. Like it didn't matter that his hand was flexing on my hip, going to leave sure bruises for the morning.

A small price to pay for sharing this moment with him.

His breath blew hard against my skin. Choosing to divide my attention to focus beyond the feeling of him inside and against me, I listened to the noises rumbling out of his mouth. That's when I heard it. He was moaning, and between every long, panted noise was my name.

I was gone then, writhing as my orgasm cut through me.

That was the mistake. I had done something unforgivable then, something I couldn't control. I had signed my own death warrant.

As I twisted and gasped, Edward paused against me, dangerously stationary. His next action caused me pain I'd have felt more intensely had I not climaxed. He jerked against me. Strangely, I felt that well before I did his next move.

His control ceasing, Edward's mouth fell on my jugular and, without uttering another word, tore straight through the fragile layer of skin.

Maybe it was the shock, or maybe I didn't even realize what he was doing, but I didn't fight. I couldn't even move. My body felt lethargic, a useless shell that was being ravaged. Destroyed by the one person I had trusted most. The pain soared through me, doing nothing to inspire me to move. I couldn't do much outside of gape my mouth open. The time I probably should have fought hardest, and I couldn't do anything. What a role model I had turned out to be at my last gasping breath.

Edward wasn't Edward. He shook my body like a rag doll, forcing more out of me than I thought I had. I hadn't taken as many science classes as he had, but I knew that it wouldn't be long before I flat lined. I could only lose so much blood and continue to sustain life.

I really was the lamb, and he the ravenous lion. I wasn't Bella to him. Just the meat package he'd first associated me with.

How tragic, I thought to myself.

Before long, he pulled back. I braced myself to be mauled again. That didn't happen. His body pealed itself away from me. Left on my side, the space felt emptier than ever. Here I was, dying, and I felt lonely - searching out my murderer with my motionless eyes. I couldn't find him. That frightened me, more than death. Had he remembered himself? Why wasn't he drinking every last drop? I was the very best meal he could ever dream of having, and he wasn't gorging himself anymore.

It could have been minutes, an hour, but he found me. I could be thankful for that, dying or not. He raised my cheek, cradling it in his palm. His mouth was bloodied, a sick and dark ruby against the pale of his skin. The look on his face, though, was horror.

The grotesque vision was the very last thing I saw before I blacked out.

*****

Here endeth the lesson.

I know a lot of people get angry over sudden character deaths that aren't addressed in fics beforehand, so before any of you get up in arms or start flaming me, there's a reason I ended it with her BLACKING OUT. If you want to pretend she survived, or that she underwent the transformation into a vampire, go for it. It's up for your interpretation. Anyway, I might extend this into a multi-chaptered fic. For now, it's an one shot, but who knows. My muse might start kicking up a storm and force me to write out more.