Page 43 of Lesson In Faith

They spent an hour every day on the books he’d bought her, teaching her how to read—which was more difficult than he imagined when she couldn’t sound out the words for him to praise or correct—or focusing on her writing lessons.

There was the greatest desire to learn inside her. Whatever he taught her, she soaked up like a sponge, drinking in knowledge greedily. She listened to his stories adoringly, her attention rapt and always locked on him.

After her lessons, they watched TV for a while, or she curled up on the couch beside him, her stuffie under her arm, as he read more advanced books to her. Oddly, it was probably the time of day when he felt most relaxed, at peace with everything and everyone.

A week ago, he’d stopped sleeping in the armchair in the living room.

The first night, Tamsyn woke screaming a half-dozen times, her subconscious driving her to the very edge of the mattress. Gradually, she’d come closer and closer to him in sleep until, this morning, he woke with her snuggled under his arm, her butt teasing his cock.

They were making progress on all fronts, and he was pleased, despite the fact she now refused to leave the cabin. Her membership was all set up, ready for her if she wanted to venture out, but the orgy night had sent her scurrying back into her hidey hole where she felt safest.

In one short hour, he’d head home to upset the apple cart, so to speak. There would be no lesson in writing full sentences or reading a segment from one of her books.

Her blank limits list was burning a hole in his back pocket, and it was beyond time he led her gently into his world. Going through the list one by one and explaining what each one entailed probably wasn’t going to happen in one night; he didn’t want to blow her mind or scare the shit out of her, so patience was key.

His radio crackled. “Merrick?”

Because he was in a good mood, Merrick didn’t grunt at the Master of Security. “Yeah.”

“Need you in the clubhouse.”

His schedule was clear until the end of his shift now. He’d made two women very happy and given a Dom a crash course in hownotto fling a single-tail whip around like a drunken frat boy. The fool thought he was fucking Indiana Jones; his sub hadn’t agreed with that notion when he managed to leave a nasty cut around the side of her hip.

“On my way.”

Luck was on his side today. He’d drawn an early shift, which meant he could be home at six instead of two, giving him some much needed downtime with Tamsyn. Stepping over the threshold to the cabin drained all his stress, tension, and frustration from the day like pulling a plug, even though it was immediately replaced with a deeper, more intense sexual frustration.

Merrick was still figuring out how to get around the pesky issue of his little owl’s virginity. In his mind, she was his now. All his denials, his determination to be nothing more than a supportive stepping stone in her life, his insistence he was not the right man for her, were dust in the wind.

Hewasthe right man for her, just not in bed.

Not the first time.

Maybe not the second or third.

When he walked into the clubhouse and pushed through the double swing doors into the bar, he saw one of the reasons why he needed to be extra careful with Tamsyn.

Liam, Mack, and their beautiful new bride, Sierra, were behind the bar.

Back where they belonged, he thought as a grin spread over his face.

They’d gone home to Phoenix for Christmas, and to get married on New Year’s Eve in front of their family there. They were supposed to be back here weeks ago, but when they hadn’t returned, he’d simply assumed they were either taking an extended honeymoon… or they’d decided their Arizona roots were calling them home to stay.

Merrick had been part of a five-Master intervention for Sierra a couple months back. Suffering from hirsutism, she was cursed—or blessed, depending on how one looked at it—with a pretty auburn beard to match her hair.

Bullies had been so cruel to her, she’d dropped into a listless funk, briefly reverting to suicidal inclinations, and Liam organized the intervention swiftly. He’d rallied Merrick, Levi, and Fordham to the cause, using Shibari and sex to hammer some home truths into the girl.

Merrick had taken her after Liam; neither of Sierra’s new husbands were deficient in the cock department, yet he’d struggled to get inside that snug pussy without hurting her. Of course, by the time he was done with her, she’d been drooling.

He grinned at the memory.

Grit caught sight of him and jerked his thumb up in approval before leaning over the bar for… was that a karaoke mic? Feedback screeched through the room speakers, silencing every conversation, and he grimaced. “Now that we’re all deaf, can I please have your attention for a minute.”

All eyes were on him as requested.

“Now I know many of you haven’t met our resident bartender, Master Liam, or his fellow Daddy Dom, Master Mack. So it gives me great pleasure to introduce you all to Mr., Mr., and Mrs. Carradine-Morehead.”

A row of spotlights lit up behind the bar as a small explosion of colored confetti and white glitter deployed with apoofabove the happy trio’s heads. Giggling madly, Sierra spun in a giddy circle, holding her hands palms-up to catch the shiny debris.

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