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Shifting, he rested a forearm against the mirror and leaned his weight on it, using his other hand to snare her throat. The firm yet gentle pressure didn’t scare her; if anything, it had the opposite effect. Prickles of awareness spread out like tendrils from his touch, reaching deep beneath her skin to stimulate her from head to toe.

As though guided by his thoughts, Tamsyn shuffled her feet apart to alleviate the throbbing in her core. A shiver trickled down her spine at the sound of his chuckle.

“Don’t think you’re gonna have issues wearing a collar, are you?” His nose pushed into her hair as he inhaled. “My collar around your neck, my cuffs on your wrists, and my cock wedged to the hilt inside you.”

She moaned in longing, drawn into the visual images he painted.

Trailing his fingers down to her breast, he grinned at her. “Sleepy little owl by day, dirty girl by night.” His thumb skimmed her nipple, bringing it to a taut peak, then pinched it with help from his index finger. “Always beautiful, no matter what.”

Not defective, she discovered as pain spiked from her breast to her sex. Not defectiveat all. As her core clenched, desperate to feel something inside her, she realized she just needed another’s touch to bring her body to life.

No, not another’s…

Merrick.

Squirming against the mirror, Tamsyn watched his eyes darken until the green almost disappeared into the blackness of his pupils. The focus in them was deadly, locked on her breasts as he switched from one to the other, rolling her nipples, adding pressure bit by bit.

Oh yes, she just needed him.

Whimpering, she grabbed his hand, dragging it down to where she needed him most.

Merrick cupped her curls, his fingers not quite where she wanted them. Those eyes bore into hers, questioning, seeking, until he asked, “Are you sure, darlin’?”

She wasn’t stupid. She knew there was no going back after this—she would crave him even more than she did now, and he… that tenuous control he kept wrapped around his fist was liable to snap. She felt it, that constant struggle within him to do the right thing while his idea of the wrong thing beckoned.

If she said yes, would he go all the way?

Was she agreeing to more than just his hand between her legs?

Did it even matter?

Everything she was revolved around him. When she woke in the morning, it was his sleepy rumble that set her world to rights. It was his smile that rekindled happiness from dead memories and forged new ones. There was something in him she couldn’t resist; it was like the jagged edges of her soul slotted perfectly into his.

Anxiety made her head jerk up and down in jittery assent.

Confident as ever, Merrick eased his fingers lower, finding the squishy nub she’d touched earlier. Only her body reacted more violently than she expected, her hips thrusting as he circled it with a fingertip. “This is your clitoris, Tamsyn. This and your G-spot are gonna be your best friends.”

Her breath quickened, her brain torn between chasing the sparks of pleasure and finding the rhythm of his finger. Circle, circle, a gentle slide through the wetness pooling at her entrance. Circle, circle, slide. Circle, circle, slide, dip.

The bluntness of his fingertip stretched her slightly.

Every warning he’d given her about his size and his preferred bed partners ricocheted through her head. Now she knew why he’d warned her, and so often, but just as she predicted, it was too late.

She was beyond caring.

“Anything ever been inside you, little owl?” Merrick’s tone gentled, became soothing. “Fingers, tampons, toys? Have you experimented with yourself, played with this treasure in the dark?”

Absolutely not. Community laws stated a bride offered in trade must be in possession of her hymen. Any bride who didn’t bleed on her wedding night was forfeit to punishment doled out by her husband, and the trade was null and void.

“All right, this is gonna sting, darlin’. Just for a few seconds, but it won’t feel good.” He bent his head to tease her mouth. “Take a deep breath and kiss me, Tamsyn. Give me everything you’ve got.”

Circle, circle, slide, dip.

She sucked in a huge breath and pressed her lips to his. Humming softly, she lifted her hand to his neck, digging her nails into the skin of his nape when the circles became faster, the slide shorter. She couldn’t focus on kissing him when her thighs were trembling, her attention on that single digit.

Circle, circle, slide, dip… push.

Her body went rigid as he relentlessly drove his finger inside her. One knuckle, then two, until the bridge of his hand prevented him from going any further, aided by her own copious lubrication.