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He lowers his head, and his lips part like he’s about to kiss me, but then he takes a couple steps back. “Why did you let them in before me?”
I’m almost caught off guard by the pain in his voice. Wes soundstortured,and somewhere deep inside of me, smugness blooms. That’s exactly what I wanted—to hurt him.
“Because this all started because of you.”
Wes’s eyes close, but not before I see the pain in them.
“I’m not blaming you for believing Kammes,” I say. “At least not for the most part. But everything you did after? All the pain you caused? Originally, it wasyouridea.”
“I know,” he mumbles.
“Not to mention the fact that you were disregarding every boundary I tried to set,” I add. “Up until you killed Professor Kammes, you refused to let me have an ounce of autonomy. Cal and Kellan were at least a little better.”
Fuck.I’m being too hard on him. Not that he doesn’t deserve it—he does. But at this point, my relationship with Wes is supposed to beimproving.I can’t set us back like this.
Cautiously, I step forward, placing my hands on his chest again. “But despite all of that, I couldn’t help but want you.”
“I know,” he says thickly. “I’ll never be able to get the way you looked at me on Halloween out of my head. Even while we were forcing you to fuck us, you had to convince yourself that you didn’t want it.”
“Because Ididwant it,” I say. “Just not like that. I want you to take it from me, but I—”
“Take what?”
“My will. My ability to say yes or no. I want you to do the things you did to me on Halloween, and I want to fight and kick and scream. But…”
“But it’s different,” he finishes for me. “Because you said yes to it previously.”
“Exactly. It’s what I always wanted, and I thought that night would be the closest I’d ever get. But now I have a chance for it to happen with my consent.”
“I’m sorry, Athelia,” he murmurs, running his hands through my hair. “I regret everything we did that night.”
Staring at his chest, I nod. I know he actually means it, but it doesn’t change anything. I was so conflicted that night, and the morning after, I only felt worse.
“I know I’ve already said it,” Wes says lowly, “but I’ll say it again. I’ll give you anything you want, my soul.”
My heart skips a beat—it always does when he calls me that.
“Does this count as you giving me permission?”
“Yes,” I whisper.
Wes doesn’t move to touch me—to restrain me or force me to my knees or shove me onto the couch. He just nods. “Do you want it to be a surprise?”
“A… surprise?”
“Do you want to know it’s coming? Or do you want me to catch you off guard?”
“Oh,” I breathe out. I hadn’t thought of that. “Catch me off guard, I think.”
Wes’s lips just barely brush against mine. “Your wish is my command.”
Chapter Forty-One
Wes
After my conversation with Athelia, I head downstairs for a while. It’s my night to do the dishes, and once they’re done, I find myself scrubbing at the counters and the sink.
I think I inherited that habit from my mom. Whenever she’s got a lot on her mind, she goes into a deep cleaning frenzy. My dad used to come home after a long shift and find her elbows-deep in cleaning chemicals, and instead of falling into bed, he’d roll up his sleeves and help her.
