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One mistake and he’d be dead.

What other reason would make a man sedate his prey if he wasn’t doing anything untoward? From the bits and pieces Tamsyn volunteered, the community weren’t squeamish about removing body parts or causing grievous injury to the women before they were married off, so a blood kink wouldn’t require secrecy.

Maybe he just liked jacking off over them—would that count as tainting them?

Tamsyn stirred, whimpering in her sleep.

Merrick knew the signs all too well now. This was how the nightmares started during the night—a little kick of her legs, a twist of her body, and those godforsaken whimpers that came straight from the mouth of a child. If he didn’t disturb her, the kicks and twists would evolve into harsh jerks, then full-body thrashing.

Those heartbreaking whimpers would become screams.

Sliding his hand down her side, he tickled her ribs until she squirmed. The whimpers turned into a cute chortle before she pressed her face into his chest and snuffled softly. The rising tension in her muscles faded, letting her relax into sleep again.

He really didn’t want to take her to the medplay room tonight. In all likelihood, he was going to have to force her through those doors, which didn’t sit well with him. For all the trust she had in him, exam rooms were her kryptonite, her ultimate fear.

Unfortunately, at some point in her life, she would need medical care. In an emergency, no one would be able to take the time to talk her through the panic. Hell, even a trip to the dentist was out of the question until she got a handle on this phobia.

That meant stepping up to be the Dom and doing what his submissive needed, not what she wanted. It meant pushing her, even when she was scared. Driving her into taking those first terrifying steps toward healing an unbearable pain.

Unbeknownst to Tamsyn, he’d booked the room once a week for the foreseeable future. Different times, different days, so she couldn’t get herself stressed out in the run up to each one. Short and sweet would be the key—simple scenes, no pain, with a reward at the end for positive reinforcement.

That reminded him to get the ball rolling on other matters.

On paper, marrying Tamsyn within weeks of meeting her might seem impulsive, reckless… even slightly like a midlife crisis. In reality, it was far easier to explain.

He loved her—that was all there was to it.

Stroking her back to keep her connected to him instead of spiraling back into nightmares, he reached out and snagged his cell phone from the arm of the couch. Scrolling through for the number he needed, he pressed it and waited for Evander to pick up.

“Daddy Vander’s phone.”

“Hey, sweetheart, it’s Merrick. Is your Daddy there?”

“May-be…”

God love Littles, he thought, and fervently thanked the higher powers for not gifting him with one. As much as he loved Callie and Sierra, relishing the energy they brought into the club, he could admit he’d never have the patience to deal with them on a full-time basis—and he had a great deal of patience.

“Is it a ‘mergency?”

He supposed it was, if he wanted to marry his little owl anytime in the next six months. “A minor one.”

She gave a pensive hum; he could almost see her shrug her shoulders. “M’kay.”

He heard her singing to herself as she went to find her Daddy. When he called her name, she didn’t answer, which told him she was likely just hauling the phone along as an afterthought.

Concern raised its ugly head as he heard the faint but unmistakable sounds of two bodies colliding intimately. It was no secret that while Evander found and fell in love with Callie first, Elias had loved his boss before she came into the picture, then fallen for her too. They both adored her as their wife and Little, but when it came to sexual and relationship hierarchy, Elias dominated both his husband and wife.

The sound of flesh on flesh grew louder; Evander groaned.

“Come on, boy, take it all.” Elias’s British accent was tighter, darker, than Merrick had ever heard it. “The next time you snap my head off for no reason, you’re going to remember this, aren’t you? You’ll ask for a hard fuck instead of forcing my hand.” A particularly harsh smack of flesh made Merrick grimace, followed by a pained grunt. “That’s it, take my cock. That’s what you wanted all along. A word of advice, Van—”

Smack.

“Don’t.”Smack.“Piss.”Smack.“Off.”Smack.“A.”Smack.“Fucking.”Smack.“Sadist.”

Merrick punched the disconnect button with his thumb, eyeing the screen until it returned to the call log. Warily, he set the phone aside, unable to get the image of the dark-haired Brit riding the gigantic blond Dom out of his head.

That was an intimate moment he shouldn’t have been privy to, one he was going to have to scrub out of his brain.