MOTM Chapter 22 on Stars
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I
held Bella closely as we went to bed that night. The reappearance of Royce King
and the information from Billy regarding Colin, his information about Stephan,
Royce and Marcus’s alliance, was incredibly troubling. War was coming. A
massive war among rival families. Three families against one … Volturi, Romani
and King all against the Cullens.
Who
would come out victorious?
Who
would pay the ultimate price?
Fuck me.
I
buried my nose into Bella’s hair, inhaling its soft strawberry vanilla
fragrance. She sighed, twining her fingers with mine. “Love you, Mobward,” she
mumbled, almost incoherently.
“Love
doesn’t even come close,” I whispered, tightening my hold around her body. She
snuggled closer and slid her leg between mine. I cradled her to my body and
tried to get some sleep, but it eluded me. I’d be worthless today at work, but
at least I was able to get some questions answered with Billy and about Royce.
Also, in some weird way, I was relieved that Rosalie was still alive. Those
pictures, photo shopped to look like Bella, were of Rosalie and I was terrified
that Royce had killed her. I hated her guts, but she was, at one point, a
member of our family.
A
hated member, but still a member.
When
my alarm went at o’dark thirty, Bella groaned and tried to burrow deeper in our
covers. I hit the snooze and held her close, reveling in the perfection that
was Isabella Swan. I idly traced her back, looking down at her slumbering face.
Her lips were pouted and her face was completely relaxed, content. However,
when the alarm went off again, her nose wrinkled. “That’s the worst sound.
Ever.”
“Sorry,
dolce,” I said, kissing her forehead.
Her eyes blinked open and they were glazed over, unfocused from being
disturbed. “Someone’s grumpy.”
“Someone
hasn’t slept, either,” she chided, tracing dark circles under my eyes. “You are
… you’re going to worry yourself into an early grave, Edward. I kind of like
having you around, bub. Don’t go anywhere. I’m fine. Alice is fine. Jacob takes
amazing care of us.”
“I
know he does, but I hate that it’s been … that we’re forced to have you under
protective guard, twenty-four/seven,” I grumbled. “It shouldn’t be that way. As
chauvinistic as it sounds, the world of the mafia is very … it’s all about the
men. Women are revered, protected and loved, not targeted.”
“As
you’ve said, numerous times,” she said, sitting up and straddling my waist. She
was wearing a button-down shirt, falling off her shoulder, revealing the swell
of her breast. “This sucks. I get it. Royce, Stephan and Marcus? They’re all
fucktards. But, we can’t let this force us how to live our life, Edward. You
need to go to ‘work,’ taking over the city, one investment at a time.”
“I
know I want to make a deposit,” I purred.
“Hmmm,
what kind?” she asked, a sly grin spreading over her beautiful face.
“I
think you know,” I answered, unbuttoning the shirt and cupping her breasts. She
kissed me hungrily while I tore her panties from her body and shimmied my boxer
briefs over my hips. She sank over me, a choked whimper coming from her. Our
bodies moved sinuously, sharing the love we had for each other. Her hands
tangled in my hair as I whispered words of love, in Italian. She sobbed when
her body reacted, clenching around me. “That’s it, baby. You’re so fucking
beautiful when you come.” Her orgasm triggered mine and I spilled my release
deep within her. She slumped against me, her lower muscles still clinging
around me. “I love you, Bella. You are … you’re everything to me.”
“I
know,” she said, kissing my neck. “As you are to me, baby.” My alarm went off
again and Bella scowled at it. “Seriously, that is the worst sound ever. Why do
you have such an obnoxious alarm clock?”
“Because it’s the only one that will wake me up,” I snickered, sliding out of her and trying to hide my disappointment of our separation.
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