Chapter 47
Lincoln
My cock throbs, suddenly encased in soft wet warmth, the kind that makes me let out a loud groan. If this is a wet dream,
it’s the most vivid one I’ve ever experienced.
Except I’m not dreaming. My eyes fly open, panic engulfing my entire body . . . until I see her—her dark locks tumbling over
her shoulders and her head bobbing up and down on my cock. And fuck me, it feels good.
Feels incredible actually, but it’s still all kinds of fucked-up.
“Imogen! What are you doing?” My voice is thick with both desire and sleep, but it’s still sharp enough to make her flinch.
Slowly, she lets me slip out of her mouth, the moonlight highlighting a string of saliva connecting her pouty lips to the
crown of my cock, stretching and thinning until it eventually breaks. “Tasting you, sir.”
I flick on the lamp on the nightstand and immediately regret it because she’s naked, and I’m not sure I’m a good enough man
to resist. But even worse, her eyes are filled with so much hope, and I’m about to snuff it out. “You can’t just come in here
and—”
“You gave me your permission, remember?” she cuts me off, and the sudden fire in her makes my cock twitch in response. “You
said I could wake you like this whenever I wanted to.”
I scrub a hand over my face and try to get a handle on my frustration, while also trying to ignore my cock screaming at me to shut the fuck up and let her get back to what she was doing. “But you can’t . . .” I trail off when she plants her hands on my chest.
“This . . .” she straddles me, sliding her pussy over my shaft and coating me with her slick arousal, and my deviant fuck dick almost
slips inside her of his own accord “ . . . is what I want, Lincoln. What I need.” Her lower lip trembles. Her eyes are pleading.
My hands fist in the sheets in an effort not to touch her. My entire body is screaming for her. “Please?” she begs.
How the hell can I deny her. Just this once. Just tonight and then I’ll put a lock on my goddamn door. She’s right that I
did tell her she could do this. And she’s wet. And needy. And so damn fuckable. “Then take whatever you want, angel.”
Her eyes sparkle. She grasps my shaft and lowers herself onto it. So fucking slowly. Her tight heat hugging my cock inch by
torturous inch, until I’m groaning her fucking name. With a satisfied smile, she sinks all the way down and I bottom out inside
her.
“Like this, sir?” she asks, her voice dripping with sin and seduction.
“Yeah. Exactly like that, baby.”
She rolls her hips over me and pleasure rockets up my spine. I grab onto her waist, guiding her, making sure her swollen clit
makes contact with my pelvic bone.
She gasps and her eyes roll back. “Oh, god. That feels so good.”
It feels fucking incredible. Sliding my hands over her rib cage, I cup her perfectly round tits in my palms, her supple flesh
spilling between my spread fingers as I squeeze just enough to make her moan. I toy with her pebbled nipples while she rides
me. When her pussy walls start to ripple around my shaft, I rock my hips into her, hitting her G-spot and making her tremble.
“Lincoln,” she whines.
“I know, baby. You’re so good at that. You’re gonna make us both come the way you’re riding my cock.”
She nods, bottom lip trapped between her teeth, her eyes fluttering closed. Searing heat coils at the base of my spine and
I grab onto her waist once more as she takes us both over the edge. A contented grin spreads over her face and she lies down
on top of me, my cock still inside her.
I allow her a moment to stop shaking, my fingers trailing up and down her spine. “You should go back to your own room now,
Imogen.”
She burrows her face into the crook of my neck. “No.”
“No?”
“I can’t. No, I won’t.”
Her outright refusal would be amusing if it weren’t so infuriating. “You can and you will.”
With a heavy sigh, she peels herself off me, but instead of getting out of bed, she rolls onto her side, her body still pressed
against mine. “I understand why you got upset with me yesterday and—”
“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. “You told me that I need to ask for what I want. And I want this, Lincoln. I do not consent 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 healthy desire 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.