“Breathe in, little owl, and let it go slowly. That’s perfect,” he praised when she obeyed without thinking. “Again, Tamsyn. Such a good girl. That’s it, breathe out and relax. Breathe and relax.”
So intent on measuring her breathing, it took her several seconds to register the growing pressure against her sex. He wasn’t moving, wasn’t thrusting into her the way she expected, but the thick crown was persistently pushing against her, splaying her open much more than his fingers.
Legs moving restlessly, she heard scared whimpers over the crackle of the fire, felt them vibrating at the back of her throat, her nose. The tight entrance of her pussy slowly stretched to accommodate him, spreading around the flared head as she went rigid.
“Easy, darlin’. You’re okay, I promise. Just let me in a little more and we’ll take a break.” Kisses rained over her face and neck as his hips flexed subtly, adding weight behind his demand for access. “Good girl, Tamsyn. Deep breath now, blow it out.”
Mouth agape, lips trembling, she sucked in a jagged breath. It released on a choked cry as her hips tilted to evade the discomfort, then she yelped in pain when the movement aided rather than hindered him.
Her hands lifted to his shoulders, her nails scoring his flesh as the brutal crown popped inside her. They bit deep, anchoring her as her vision went blurry. She froze, her yelps turning into a pitiful whine.
“Good girl, Tamsyn,” Merrick repeated emphatically. “Goodgirl. Fuck, you’re heaven and hell combined.” He groaned, holding himself still, and she realized not all the trembling was coming from her—he was shaking, his immense body quivering with the effort of restraining himself. “Take a minute, little owl. Let yourself adjust.”
“O-O-Ow.”
“I know. I know, darlin’.” He rubbed his cheek against hers. “We can stop if you’ve had enough. It’s okay. This is a big ask; there’s no shame in saying no.”
She didn’t want to say no. He’d given her enough warnings for her to mentally prepare herself, but there was a very large and complicated difference between beingmentallyprepared for the pain, and experiencing it physically.
Just like imagining being under him this way and feeling him on top of her were two very different things.
An elder wouldn’t stop, she reminded herself as the burn in her core simmered. Even if she was screaming for him to, he wouldn’t because the elders thrived on the power, fear, and pain of their traded bribes.
Merrick didn’t need to be asked; he didn’t need those things to feel like a man.
Other men might be smaller in size, but that didn’t mean they had his moral compass. She’d rather feel the searing pain between her legs and know he wouldn’t willingly hurt her in any other way than risk everything—heart, body, and soul—by trusting someone else.
It was going to hurt, but at least the pain was caused by someone she loved.
Wetting her lips, she inhaled slowly. “K-Keep going.”
“I can wait, little owl.” Merrick brushed his lips over her cheekbone, his fingers stroking her hair. “I’m not in any hurry.”
“Are you s-scared?” Why was her voice so… not hers? Weak and raspy, making her throat ache. She wanted to sound confident and strong, and instead… she was the opposite.
Merrick nodded slowly. “Yeah, I’m scared, Tamsyn.”
“Because it’s going… to hurt?”
“Yeah. I hate knowing I’m the one causing it.” He kissed the tip of her nose, then rubbed his against it. “I hate knowing it’s gonna get worse before it gets better.” His beard tickled her cheeks when he claimed her mouth gently. “I hate the possibility I’ll damage this trust you have in me.”
Tamsyn shook her head, moving her arms from his shoulders to wrap around his back. With a small sigh, she geared herself up for the longest speech she could muster. “I ran away because my father traded me to… one of the worst elders. One of the most influential. Most wealthy. He reneges on every trade.” Oh boy, she hadn’t expected to get breathless, or for her voice to crack every few words. “When an elder reneges, we die. I don’t want to die, Merrick.”
“I won’t let that happen.”
Absently, she stroked her hand down his ribs, following the contour of his muscles down to his hip. “I want this. I need this. I needyou, Merrick. It doesn’t matter how much it hurts because he would’ve made it a thousand times worse just for fun. I trust you to…” She paused, trying to figure out how to phrase her thoughts. “Make it feel good… eventually.”
“Been waiting to hear some of the thoughts that’ve been spinning around in your head,” he murmured, a frown furrowing his brow. “Didn’t expect you to lop me off at the knees, little owl.”
She wasn’t sure how to respond to that.
“Give me a kiss before I make you cry, darlin’.”
Oh, that didn’t bode well, did it? Still, she did as he asked, wincing as he shifted slightly and edged deeper inside her. She loved how his hand slid under her head to cup the back, the way his lips slanted over hers possessively. The teasing sweep of his tongue, the curve of his mouth when she tried to mimic him—
She felt his fingers tighten against her scalp, but missed the warning.
Merrick rolled his hips, driving them forward, pushing his weight behind them. He murmured placations against her mouth, swallowing her whimpering cries as they built into a scream.