“I didn’t get upset with you.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Although I know it may have appeared that way. I was angry with myself, because you were right, Imogen. You can’t give me your consent. Not while I’m keeping you here against your will. So this...” my eyes rake over her sinful curves of their own volition “... all of this is wrong.”
“No,” she says again, all fire and defiance.
I roll onto my side, trying to keep a lid on my temper. “Yes.”
“I thought a lot about it all day and I can give my consent. And I do. You can do whatever you want to my body. Anytime and anywhere. If I’m awake or sleeping, or—”
“Imogen!” I growl. She has no idea what she’s saying. But I need to get a handle on my temper before I say something I regret. “It doesn’t matter. This is wrong. So very fucking wrong, no matter how good it feels.”
Her beautiful face twists in a scowl. “No!” she snaps, and before I can reprimand her for her attitude, she pushes herself up onto her elbow, her free hand on her hip. “Youtold me that I need to ask for what I want. And I want this, Lincoln. I donotconsent to sleeping alone when I could be in here with you. I do not consent to being pushed away because of some kind of code you think you’re breaking that you won’t even explain to me. I do not consent to you withholding affection from me because of your guilt.”
Her eyes are shining with indignation, and she’s never looked more beautiful to me than in this moment. I’m both thrilled and proud that she’s standing up for herself, but if I use that to justify what I’m doing, then I’m still a monster like the rest of them. “I don’t mean to withhold affection, but it’s hard to be close to you and not touch you, Imogen.”
“So touch me!” she pleads. “I trust you with my body, Lincoln. All of it.”
That stops me in my tracks. She trusts me? Her revelation fills me with equal parts shame and pride. “You shouldn’t trust me.”
“You’ve never given me any reason not to. You’ve never touched me against my will. Never pushed me further than I could handle.” She places her hand on my chest, tracing her fingertip over my scars. “I know you think you’re a monster but you’re the furthest thing from one I’ve ever known. Even when you punished me, and even when you’re rough, you’re still always patient and kind. You always make me feel cherished and protected. You make me feel...” Her lower lip wobbles again. “You make me feel safe, Linc.”
Safe? Me? The man who has spilled more blood than an entire army. The man who enjoys breaking bones and watching his enemies bleed far too much for it to be explained by a healthydesire for revenge. The same man who broke the most important promise he ever made—to protect her no matter what the cost. My throat constricts with all the words I should say. All the truths I should tell her but can’t. Instead I focus on her truth, the one thing that makes all of this worth it—I make her feel safe.
“And so now I think I truly understand what consent means. I was taught that mine didn’t matter because it wasn’t mine to give, but I realize now how very wrong that is. You were right about there being a power imbalance between us, but now I understand that dynamic makes my consent even more important, not less so. And this is me, giving you mine of my own free will. Please don’t refuse it.”
Fuck, how could I? That was quite the speech, and I’m so damn proud of her. Grabbing her leg, I hook it over my hip before palming the back of her head, so I can pull her as close to me as humanly possible. “I won’t refuse it, angel. But trust goes both ways. I need to trust that you feel safe enough to tell me no if I ever push you too far, if I ever hurt you or do something you don’t want. Can you promise to always do that for me?”
She nods eagerly. “Yes.”
I want to believe her so much that I do.
Chapter 48
Imogen
We are eating lunch when I feel the telltale cramps indicating my period has arrived. I excuse myself from the table and head upstairs to my bedroom. Taking the tampon from the wrapper, I study it closely. I’ve read the instructions and think I understand how they work. And they have to be more comfortable than pads, because, well... they have to be. Pads make me feel sticky and uncomfortable and tampons seem so much less messy.
“Are you feeling okay, angel?” His voice sends shivers through my entire body. I should have known he’d follow me.
“Yes, I’m just figuring out how to use a tampon.”
He hums, taking the blue plastic tube from my hand. “Would you like me to show you?”
I arch an eyebrow. “You’ve used tampons before?”
One side of his mouth lifts in a smirk. “No, but I’m very willing to learn. How hard can it be?”
He pulls out the end of the plastic applicator and holds it up. “The white part goes inside you, correct?”
Why does that sound sexy the way he says it? I nod.
“And the string stays out?”
“Yes.”
“Then I got it.” He drops to his knees before I can protest further. Then he grabs my foot and plants a sweet kiss on the inside of my ankle before placing it on his shoulder. He pulls the tampon out of its applicator.
“We need that! That’s what pushes it inside.”
He looks up at me, his dark eyes sparkling with wicked intent. “I think I have that part covered, baby. Relax.”
