“Better?” She beams, her face flushed pink and her green eyes sparkling. The real Imogen beneath the veneer of obedience and expectations. I want this side of her. All the damn time.
“Better.” And much fucking filthier. I keep that last thought to myself. “If it weren’t your first time, I would fuck you again right now.”
She snakes her arms around my neck. “I can take more. I want more, Linc.”
I love that she’s calling me Linc. Nobody has ever called me that, and nobody else ever will. I nip at her neck. “My greedy little angel.”
“I’ve never felt anything that made me feel so good before. Is that normal?”
Nothing about me and her together could be described as normal. Nothing about what we just did either. It was explosive and addictive. I’ve had plenty of sex before her, but she’s the first human being I’ve ever wanted to be so close to. Sex has always been transactional. It was a necessary arrangement, given the life I lead, but also it was all I ever wanted. No feelings. No attachment. With her though, there could never be enough of either. I could crawl inside her skin and it wouldn’t be enough. “I’m not sure what you would consider normal, Imogen.”
“Well, I suppose I have no idea. But I was warned that it would hurt... a lot. I was never told about the other stuff.”
I roll onto my side and she does the same. The way she’s studying my face feels too intimate, too intense. But I’m unable to resist the plea in her bright green eyes, or the gravitational pull of her. And this is an opportunity to discover more about her childhood without appearing like I’m searching for information. Because any information about the Brotherhood is always welcome, but I’m more interested in knowing all about her. “Who warned you it would hurt?”
“Larissa. My grandfather’s housekeeper.”
Ah yes, the governess figure Pierre told me of, who was definitely much more than that. “You two discussed sex?”
She nods. “We talked about a lot of stuff. She...” Her slender throat works, as though something is stuck inside her. “She was the only person I had really. So anything I learned about life experiences, I learned from her. She tried to prepare me for what would happen after the auction as best she could.”
White-hot rage sears through my veins. The mere thought of what my innocent angel was prepared for. What kind of violence and abuse was she expecting, and what the hell did Larissa have to show or tell her to do that? Or was there more? Was she taught to defend herself? Forced to fight? Shown how to please a man to seduce or subdue him? It all stokes my ever-present need for vengeance to dangerous levels. And there were fifty women sold before her. Forty-eight of whom I haven’t yet managed to free from their torment.
I swallow all of the anger, pushing it down deep where it won’t reach my girl and taint her with its darkness. I tuck a curl behind her ear and soften my voice. “What did she prepare you for?”
A faint smile tugs the corner of her lips. “Not for this.Youare nothing like what I was told to expect.”
Her choice of words makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. “You were told about me specifically?”
She shakes her head. “No. I had no idea who would be there or who would buy me.” Those words fill me with shame. Yes, I bought her, like a prize heifer at a fucking cattle auction. But I did it for the right reasons. I did it to save her. At least that’s what I need to believe, otherwise my soul is even more damned than it was before.
“I was taught to expect pain and cruelty,” she says flatly, and that fuels my rage further. “I was never taught about what an orgasm might feel like or given any indication that I would feel any kind of pleasure from sex.”
I suppress a snarl, in case she worries it’s aimed at her. “And you were never allowed to touch yourself to give yourself any pleasure?”
“No.”
“And you didn’t ever try anyway?”
Her jaw clenches and her eyes narrow a fraction. Her guard is up again and I could kick myself for pressing too hard too soon. “I was an obedient child, Mr. Knight.”
Mr. Knight? I cup her chin, squeezing hard enough that she knows I’m not playing. “Don’t call me Mr. Knight, Imogen. I’ve just been inside you and I’d say we’re past that, aren’t we? I am simply asking a question.”
“I’m sorry.” Her eyelashes flutter against her cheeks. “But you sounded like you didn’t believe me.”
I file away her reaction to being taken as a liar for future exploration. “You weren’t allowed to touch yourself and I assumed it was because you were taught it was wrong, or something to be ashamed of. But you talk so openly and unashamedly about sex, so that makes me think perhaps there was another reason. I’m merely curious. Exploring one’s own body and pleasure is a natural part of human development. I’m not sure I could have abstained, no matter how many people told me I should.”
“Perhaps I am more disciplined than you, sir.”
I let thesirgo, because I can’t be sure whether it’s sass or hersubmissive conditioning kicking in. Although I would much prefer it was the former. “I’m sure you are, angel. But you still haven’t answered my question. Why were you not permitted to touch yourself? Or even use a tampon?”
She holds my gaze, but she’s cold and detached. All her walls are up now. “So that I didn’t sully the property of the Brotherhood. I was told they would know if I had ever touched myself inappropriately, and I was never brave enough to risk taking that chance.”
She’s wrong. She’s the bravest creature I’ve ever known. I soften my grip, rubbing the underside of her jaw with my thumb. “You are free to touch yourself, and be yourself, in this house, Imogen. Do you understand that?”
“Yes, sir.”
She’s still closed off to me. Years of brainwashing will take a long time to change, even for someone as strong as her.
