Page 63 of Imogen

Promises I still want to break.

Which is why I’m here. At her home. I need to tell her so she doesn’t get hurt again. That’s not what I want. But I have to remember, her dad saved me. He got me out of a tricky situation that no other person wanted to help me with. He could have walked away. He had every right to. But he didn’t. Kissing her… I’ve betrayed him and tarnished everything he ever did for me.

Her lights are on which means she’s up. I lightly tap on the door, not wanting to alert her parents who live next door. I hear movement near the door, and a few seconds later, the door is opened.

Her lips part in surprise, but there’s also acceptance, like she saw this coming. Her body language shows signs of guarding. Her arm is wrapped around her stomach, and she’s let her hair cover her face. It’s like she knows and is trying to protect herself. She’s wearing a violet silk pyjama set with long grey socks that reach her thighs.

“Hey,” she greets, her voice low, unsure. “What are you doing here this late?”

“Sorry. I couldn’t sleep,” I explain, then decide to go in light before getting serious. “I came to see if you were okay. Can I come in?”

She holds the door open, letting me enter, but I don’t miss her gaze going to the path that leads to her dad’s. Their doors aren’t side by side. Imogen’s is a few feet back, giving her doorway a little privacy.

As the door closes behind her, her scent surrounds me. Everything around me becomes a blur because I can feel her. It doesn’t help that she’s all I’ve been able to think about. But she was vulnerable this morning, still reeling from the news, and I took advantage of that.

I turn to face her, and the minute our gazes lock, my hands clench into fists. Her face is free of makeup, and she has never looked more beautiful. And her beauty goes far beneath the surface. It’s in her words, in her laugh, and in her sass.

“I’m okay. As okay as you could expect. Speaking to my parents helped a lot,” she answers. “Hearing their side told me what those papers couldn’t.”

I can’t look away. The words I need to say are on the tip of my tongue, but now I’m standing in front of her, I can’t voice them.

“I’m glad it’s turned out okay,” I impart, rubbing the back of my neck. “Truly.”

“But that’s not why you’re here.”

I slowly shake my head. I had been so certain of what needed to be done, despite the war I had been having with myself all day. But now that I’m here, so close to her, I don’t know if I can.

“No.”

“Ben,” she rasps, like she knows what I want to say. “Don’t do this. It was just a kiss. It doesn’t have to mean something. But don’t ruin what happened. It meant something to me.”

The tips of my fingers press harder into my palm. “I don’t want to hurt you,” I rasp, the words painful to say.

“Then don’t,” she whispers, taking a step closer. “Don’t hurt me.”

The atmosphere in the room is tense, almost suffocating. Because if I go there, if this becomes real between us, it means this is forever. That’s how much power she has over me.

I take another step, licking my lower lip. “I won’t.”

“I know.”

And this is my weakness. Instead of saying the words I should be saying, I take a step, closing the space between us. The palm of my hand brushes her soft jaw until I’m cupping her cheek. The minute my fingers brush through her hair, the second her minty breath wisps across my face, my resolve to do the right thing breaks.

In a frenzy, she closes what’s left of the space between us until our bodies are flush. Our lips clash together before either of us can utter a word, like our bodies have now taken over. Kissing her is like nothing I have ever experienced. It’s hard, fast, and filled with undiluted passion.

A flame explodes inside me as her hands reach for the bottom of my T-shirt. I slide my leather jacket off my shoulders and help aid her in getting my top off. Our lips are separated for a moment, but the minute I’m free of my T-shirt, we’re on each other again. I lift her up by her thighs, her legs going around my waist, her ankles locking at the small of my back. As her lips nibble and whisper against mine, I feel like I’m on fire. A side of me wants to take it slow, whilst the other half has already lost control.

And it’s all because of her.

As I make my way over to her room, she sucks my lip into her mouth and breaks the rest of my restraint. I gently push her against the hallway wall, grinding my dick against her. A soft mewl slips past her lips, her body trembling against me. She holds all the power—so much so, and I don’t think she realises it. She has the power to undo me, and I’m okay with that. I want to submit and to dominate, which is something I’ve never felt before. It’s addictive.

I kiss her hard and fast as I cup her tit, finding she isn’t wearing a bra under the thin top. I can feel her nipple under the flimsy material.

I pull back, my free hand wrapping around her throat. Her lips are red and swollen, her pupils dilated.

“Are you okay with this?” I ask, my words almost demanding.

“I’m not okay with you stopping,” she replies, her voice filled with desire.

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