Page 135 of Lesson In Faith

Fordham raked his eyes up and down her body when she stood in front of him in just her bra and panties. The smug gleam in his gaze told Merrick his friend was close to achieving whatever the hell he’d been aiming for when he riled Tamsyn up. “Oh, I think I know more than you think, sweetheart. I like how quick you jump to defend him. Still ready to go home?”

She was magnificent, really.

Vibrating with indignation, breath choppy with anger, and her hands fisted by her sides, she looked ready to go to war—until Fordham’s question deflated her faster than a slashed tire. All the beautiful color in her face and upper body receded as she remembered where she was and her state of undress.

“I…” She sent a helpless glance at Merrick. “Home now, please?”

Perhaps Fordham had a point; she had a lot more to give if and when her buttons were pressed correctly. She was strong, resilient, but she wouldn’t fight. Not for herself, anyway. When it came to protecting herself, she ran—and Merrick was guilty of aiding and abetting that behavior because of her circumstances.

“Soon, darlin’. Gotta admit, Fordham’s right on one level—I haven’t made you soft as such, but by letting certain subjects slide and allowing you to avoid them, I haven’t been as effective in helping you combat your fears as I should’ve been.” He jerked his chin toward the gyno chair. “That’s gonna end tonight, little owl. We’re gonna do this scene and you’re gonna be stronger for it when we’re done.”

“But… I…no.” She took a step back, then lasered Ford with slitted tawny eyes. “You.”

Amused, he just grinned at her. “Always happy to help, sweetheart. Thank me later.”

“Thankyou? I should… I should…” Another step in retreat.

Spiraling pit of terror, Merrick thought. Clamping a hand on her nape before she decided to make a break for it, he growled, “Enough, Tamsyn. Breathe, relax, calm down. Ford is gonna be quiet now, and you’re gonna do what I ask without overthinking it. You trusted me to walk in here of your own volition, darlin’,” he pointed out when she sputtered an objection. “You’ll trust me for what comes next.”

The objection died into a whimper.

“There, that’s better.” Sliding his hand down her back, he flicked open the catch of her bra without looking at it. “I love how beautiful you are in just your underwear, little owl, but it’s time to take it all off. You’ve got a minute to strip and perch this perfect little bottom on that chair.”

There went the last vestiges of color from her face. “Master Merrick. Sir, I—”

When he folded his arms over his chest in a blatant sign he wasn’t backing down from his order, Tamsyn’s shoulders slumped. There weren’t any tears, not yet, but by the way her face was starting to crumple, they might not be far away.

Hooking a finger between the cups of her bra, she miserably pulled it down her arms and let it fall to the floor with a sad plop. Her panties slithered over her hips a moment later, pooling around her bare feet. Sneaking an unhappy peek at Fordham, she lifted an arm to cover her breasts, a hand down to her mound, until Merrick cleared his throat with a small shake of his head to emphasize she wasn’t permitted to cover herself.

That made her lip quiver before she hung her head.

Firm, Merrick reminded himself. He had to be fair and firm, strong and supportive. “Good girl. Don’t overthink the second part.” He lifted her chin with a knuckle. “Go sit down, Tamsyn. Thirty seconds.”

She wanted to obey, that much was clear. The conflict in her eyes when they met his for a brief second was astounding—would she listen to her self-preservation instincts or dig deep enough to find a rich river of trust for her Dom running beneath the fear?

He counted down from thirty, from twenty, then ten.

By zero, Tamsyn was still frozen to the floor and shaking from the knees up.

When he raised his hand to touch her cheek, she flinched and whimpered, angling her face to avoid a perceived blow. Ever so gently, he laid his palm along her jaw. “All right, little owl. It’s okay. I’m not gonna punish you for being afraid. Take my hand and close your eyes; let me lead you.”

She didn’t seem any more enamored with that than she was with moving of her own free will. Body and mind equated medical equipment with trauma, whether she consciously remembered it or not, and her body was refusing point-blank to cooperate.

Woodenly, she grasped his hand and shut her eyes, hiding the wetness on her lashes.

“We’re gonna try something different, Tamsyn.” Guiding her forward, Merrick kept his voice low and soothing. It was a short distance, flat and uncomplicated, but he knew how disoriented she would be even for those few feet. Once she was beside the chair, he stopped her. “From this point, you’ll address me as Master or Sir. Get into the habit of using them.”

She sighed. “Yes, Sir.”

“Good girl. Now kneel.” He snapped his fingers when she balked and tried to open her eyes. “No, Tamsyn. Stop overthinking. Down on your knees, now.”

The less sympathetic tone got her attention. Clumsily, she lowered herself to the floor, keeping her thighs together in a prim fashion. That wouldn’t do at all.

“Sit on your heels; spread your thighs. Wider, little owl,” he commanded when she parted them an inch. “I want to be able to see your beautiful pussy drool. Better, much better,” he praised as she hesitantly offered him the best view in the club. “Back straight. Hands on your thighs, palms up. Perfect, well done.”

She all but melted at the approval in his voice.

When he walked a slow circle around her, he saw her head tilting, trying to follow his path. Tsking softly, he set his hand on her hair, stroking the silky locks once before he urged her to drop her chin. “Submission isn’t just about giving control over to me, darlin’, or how fast and far I can drive you to your limits. Sometimes, when I ask you to do something scary like this, you need to find the right mindset. A frame of mind where your natural desire to please and your trust in me is stronger than your fear. Understand?”

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