Page 56 of Jax
My brow furrowed, and her expression shifted, softened.
“There’s a big difference between danger and damage,” she said. “And this house? We do danger really fucking well. But damage? That’s the line.”
I stared at her, something unspooling in my chest. She didn’t look like someone who’d been overpowered. She looked likesomeone who’d taken her power back in a way most people wouldn’t understand, and was better for it.
That terrified me, because for the first time, it didn’t sound like a threat, or surrender.
It sounded like a possibility.
And I didn’t know if I was ready for what came after that.
“So, how did it start between you two? Did you ask him to do those… things to you?”
“No,” Bellamy said with a small smile. “He offered. And I said yes.”
The pause that followed was quiet but full. I looked down at my hands, still in my lap, fingers twitchy, like they needed something to grip or fight. I didn’t know what to do with this tenderness. It felt intimate. And it felt like danger, too.
I cleared my throat. “And what if you’d said no?”
She didn’t blink. “Then he would’ve respected that.”
I gave her a look. “Just like that.”
“Just like that,” she repeated. “Consent isn’t conditional. It’s not an obstacle course he has to beat to get what he wants. It’s the whole game.”
I narrowed my eyes slightly. “Okay, but let’s be honest. He’s a man. And he’s hot. And intimidating as hell. Are you seriously telling me he would’ve just… walked away?”
Bellamy laughed. “Carrick would’ve backed off so fast it would’ve made your head spin. And then probably muttered something about how I clearly had bad taste.”
That surprised a snort out of me. “Okay, nowthatsounds more believable.”
She shrugged, still smiling. “Don’t get me wrong. He’s intense. And once I said yes, he became relentless. But never without permission. And never without checking in. Even when I didn’t realize I needed him to.”
I bit the inside of my cheek, chewing on her words, letting them settle in pieces. “That sounds like a fairytale,” I muttered.
Her expression softened. “Sometimes it can feel like that, sure. But not always. When you are first learning about kink, you think you understand how intense it can get, especially emotionally. But you learn pretty quickly that being that vulnerable, even with yourself, takes time and trust. I’ve had scenes that were just a hot, sexy good time, but I have also broken down and cried in the middle of more scenes than I can count. .”
That startled me. “Seriously?”
She nodded. “Oh yeah. The first time Carrick and I were together after my brother died, I fucking ugly cried. On my knees. Couldn’t breathe. My head was all over the place. I felt exposed and terrified and angry at myself for wanting what I wanted.”
My voice was quieter. “And he didn’t stop?”
“He did,” she said. “He stopped the scene. He pulled me into his lap, wrapped a blanket around me, and held me until I came back to myself.”
I exhaled slowly, something between grief and longing curling in my chest.
“And then what?” I asked.
“Then I asked him to keep going,” she said. “And he didn’t…notthat night. But the next day, we sat down and had a conversation about limits and triggers and headspace and aftercare, and….”
I raised a hand. “Whoa, whoa.Aftercare?”
Bellamy grinned. “It’s exactly what it sounds like. You don’t just walk away from something that intense without taking care of each other. Sometimes it’s physical, blankets, water, food. Sometimes it’s emotional reassurance, decompression, cuddling. Sometimes it’s silence and a safe space. But it’s alwaysthere. Because if there’s no aftercare, it’s not a scene. It’s an emotional drive-by.”
I blinked at her. “That’s… more nurturing than I expected.”
“Yeah,” she said softly. “It is.”
