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But still, Tenn didn’t stop. He kept going, long after he’d run out of brambles to evict.

“How does it look?” I asked, when I could no longer justify sitting there enjoying his touch.

His voice came out in a throaty rasp as he gathered all my hair in both his hands.

“Perfect.”

I turned to look at him. But before my gaze made it up to his face, it snagged somewhere else first, as surely as a strand of hair on a bramble.

“Tenn… Are you…” My eyes bugged as I took in the bulge at his crotch. “Are you hard?”

He shifted on the log, ran his hand along his jaw, then blew out a harsh breath.

“Yes.”

Oh, wow. Not even trying to deny it. Maybe there was no point in trying to hide it when it was so visually obvious. My head was basically directly in front of his crotch, after all.

My tongue darted out to wet my lips. My skin felt sensitive and hot. My pussy clenched.

“You need not concern yourself,” he grunted. “I’ll deal with it.” He sighed again. “I really liked combing your hair.”

Clearly.

Pure, ecstatic joy exploded inside me. I never would have expected that something as simple as combing my hair would have such an effect on someone like Tenn. He struck me as a male who took pride in maintaining control at all times.

And here he was. Hard simply from touching my hair.

It was probably because he was just as desperate for some lady loving as his men were. It sounded like the only woman he’d ever been with was years ago.

He may not have wanted to admit it, but he was just as alone out here as his men.

Even more so, since some of those men now had wives.

He moved his feet, as if to stand.

“Wait!” Before I could stop myself, I gripped his thighs with my hands. “Could… Could I see?”

White fire flared in his gaze.

“You want to see my cock?”

Cock. Oh. That’s… That’s a word.

A hard, thrusting, erotic growl of a word I never in a million years would have imagined hearing from his mouth.

“Yes please,” I breathed. When I registered how humiliatingly desperate I sounded, I quickly added, “For thebook! So that future brides can get a better sense of Zabrian anatomy.”

He let out a shuddering breath.

“You’re not going to take a picture this time, are you?” he growled. But even as he asked the question, his hands were already moving to the fasteners at his crotch. Fasteners, that, if I were being brutally honest, did not look long for this world at the rate his swollen cock was shoving against them.

“I won’t take a picture,” I promised.

Just a mental picture…

“Alright,” he grunted. He gripped the sides of his trousers’ opening, holding them together while he hesitated. “Just…”

“Yes?”