Chapter Two
Tamsyn
She heard them talking as Merrick cradled her closer. It didn’t stop the wind from biting at her exposed skin—the little that wasn’t swaddled in layers—but his scent and his body heat were soothing after the morning from hell.
Waking up in that place, a needle in her arm, a tube snaking from between her legs… she shuddered. She couldn’t begin to describe the fear clawing at her chest, especially when she realized the man who promised to stay with her was gone.
It wasn’t a surprise, not really. The men she knew were liars, cheats, entitled. In the community, they treated women like stupid commodities, but she was smart. She’d learned from a young age, around the time her mom died, that the men in her life were never to be trusted.
Not even her father.
Especially her father.
She didn’t know why she’d decided to trust Merrick. Maybe it was his eyes, those serious green eyes, that lured her in despite her reservations. Or the way he touched her, as though she were glass, instead of yanking and tugging her where he wanted like a dog on a leash. It might even be the sense of safety he gave without trying.
Tamsyn rubbed her cheek against his shoulder.
She was aware she shouldn’t be forgiving him so quickly—her head and her heart were at odds with that particular decision—but after huddling in the dark supply closet, shivering in a pathetic ball beneath the shelves, wondering whether it was possible to die from pain and the cold while indoors, she’d seen his face and wanted nothing more than to crawl into him.
The tall, tall man, however… She didn’t know what to think about him. Never had she met anyone so big, yet she got the same safe vibes from him as she did from Merrick, only… he wanted to poke her with more needles. Sedate her. Keep her calm, quiet, complacent.
No, she did know what to think about him.
Dangerous.
Stay away.
“This is our stop.” Merrick’s voice rumbled through her. “Thanks for the escort.”
“No problem. Expect housekeeping in ten, Linnie within thirty. Do you need me to have an extra bed sent over?”
“She can take mine for the time being.”
“All right, let me know if you change your mind.”
When Tamsyn opened her eyes for a peek, she saw the big blond lean forward to open the door of a log cabin. From what she could see, it was similar to those in the community, only bigger, newer, more solid… actually, it wasn’t similar at all to the ones at home—they were rundown shacks in comparison to this.
Merrick stepped inside, carefully angling his body so her legs and head didn’t hit the jambs, then kicked the door closed behind them. “All right, little owl, seems like we did a thing, and now we have to figure out the logistics of how it’s gonna work. Three things we need to tackle—feeding you, bathing you, and tucking you into bed so you get some proper rest. Any preferences which you want to do first?”
Maybe if she pretended to be asleep…
“I know you’re awake. You’ve been as stiff as a board the whole time Evander walked with us.” A chuckle thrummed through her, warming her aching bones. “He’s a giant, darlin’, but about as soft as cotton candy. I told you before, you’re safe here, with everyone.”
Warily, she opened her eyes. What was the point of maintaining the pretense?
“There you are. I think we’ll get the bath out of the way,” he mused aloud. “You’ll feel better once you’re clean and warm. Linnie will put the IV and catheter back in when she gets here.” His arms tightened when she struggled. “Stop. Listen to me. The IV isn’t negotiable—you need it, for the next few days at least. If you’re a good girl and don’t try running, hiding, or beating me to death with a pillow, no one will sedate you. I won’t allow it. Okay?”
Tamsyn jerked her head once.
“We can talk about the catheter. I don’t care if you have an accident and wet the bed.” When she stopped struggling, he carried her further into his home. “Chances are, it’s gonna happen. Once you’re asleep—a deep, relaxed sleep—you might not wake up when your bladder tells you. Did you hurt yourself when you pulled out the last one?”
Another, subtler nod.
“Linnie will take a look.” He frowned when she shook her head adamantly. “She’s the doctor, darlin’. We’re gonna listen to what she has to say. If you don’t want her to put the catheter in, I’ll do it. Might be she says you’re too sore to have another one.”
Yes, that sounded like a plan. She could still feel the sharp, crippling pain of the tube ripping free.
“Don’t think you’re in any condition to stand and take a shower,” he continued, turning into a different room; this one with pale blue walls, white tiles and fixtures, and shiny metal taps. “You’re gonna sit here for a second while I set the bath running.”
The toilet seat lid—a luxury in her world—clanged when he used his foot to drop it. She clung to his shirt as he lowered her to sit, then reluctantly released him to keep the blanket and his jacket in place. When he stroked a light hand down her arm in reassurance, she reveled in that small touch.
“I’m guessing you could talk not so long ago,” Merrick said conversationally as he crossed over to the big, shockingly white tub and bent over to set the plug in the bottom. Water crashed into the porcelain base a moment later. “Your vocal chords still work to some extent—you whimper and whine, and make odd little noises, darlin’, I’ve heard you. So are you afraid to use your voice, or did something happen to silence it?”
She wished she knew.
He came back to her, lowering to one knee. Tossing the jacket aside first, he met her eyes. “I think you’re afraid, little owl. There’s nothing wrong with that. Hopefully you’ll realize you don’t have to hide behind your voice—or lack of it.”
She couldn’t tell him it wasn’t an active choice on her part. Things would be so much better, so much easier, wouldn’t they, if she could just explain everything he wanted to know?
Steam began to wisp in the air behind him. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been treated to a bath all on her own, without the dirty, tepid water of the dozen women who’d bathed before her. The ability to clean oneself in fresh, hot water was a man’s privilege.
Merrick parted the edges of her blanket, reaching for her left arm. With only his fingertips on the underside of the limb, he lifted it slightly, scowling at the painful disaster. “This is another reason for the IV, little owl. We’ll ask Linnie for some more pain meds.”
She’d rather go without them. The lack of pain was nice, but she hated the wooziness and out-of-body feeling that came with the drugs.
He chuckled, setting her arm back down. “Judging by your expression, you’re not keen on the idea. Unfortunately, your health and comfort now falls to me. That means taking care of you even when the drugs kick your legs out from under you. Been there, done that, darlin’.”
The difference was, he was a man. He didn’t have to concern himself with what happened when he was under the influence—no one strapped him down under the guise of a health exam and stuck needles in his arm to make the memories fuzzy.
Merrick ran a knuckle along her cheekbone, then rose to attend to the bath again. Dipping a hand in the water, he switched on the other faucet until hot and cold merged into warm. “I’m gonna tell you something, little owl, and you’re gonna keep hearing it until it takes root. Don’t know where you come from, don’t know if you’re planning on heading back there. While you’re here, you are safe . I see secrets in your eyes, darlin’, and they aren’t the good kind.”
He wrenched the taps off, turning to face her. Flipping open the button on his cuff, he started rolling the shirt sleeve up until it was over his elbow, then repeated the movement all over again with the other arm. The motion of his strong fingers was hypnotic.
“No one on this property will attempt to touch you inappropriately. They won’t try to hurt, scare, intimidate, or control you in any way. Not without consent, at least,” he muttered under his breath. “For now, you’re confined to the cabin—mainly because in your current state of health, it’s not smart to let you wander around. If and when that changes, if someone hasn’t come forward to find you, there will be some paperwork to sign. Right now, all you have to focus on is being safe.”
Tamsyn nodded slowly. Obviously, she couldn’t tell him that her reading and writing skills were on the same level as a child’s; without a penis, she wasn’t worth wasting time, energy, and education on.
“That goes for me, too,” Merrick added in a serious tone. “This arrangement means you and I are gonna be in close proximity for a few days, with me taking care of you. Bathing, bathroom duties, personal care…” He seemed to struggle for his next words. “You always have a choice, little owl, when and where possible. Like now, for instance. Need to take that blanket from you and lift you into the tub. After that, it’s your choice whether you bathe yourself or need a hand.”
A touch of heat made her neck, then her cheeks tingle.
She glanced down at herself. It didn’t matter, she supposed. He’d already seen her naked, and she wasn’t exactly attractive, was she? Flat chested, bones lifting beneath her patchwork skin, thin limbs… even if she wanted a moment in a man’s spotlight, that light wouldn’t be flattering.
A man like Merrick wouldn’t be interested in someone like her, even if she had a voice and breasts.
If she had any sort of desire to get… familiar with a man.
Besides, she wasn’t used to having choices . There was little freedom for women in the community when a man was present—it was all yes, sir and no, sir and whatever you say, sir . If she even thought about making a choice, especially one that didn’t coincide with his wishes, it usually resulted in an extended period of time in isolation, a visit to the doctor, or just a plain ole beating to get those pesky feelings of independence out of her system.
She blinked slowly, and suddenly Merrick was crouched in front of her again. Seriously, did he have magic powers that allowed him to move so quick and quiet?
“Don’t think it’s gonna be wise leaving you alone in the tub, darlin’.” He grasped the edges of the blanket and spread it open, letting it slide down to pool around her hips. “Can you stay awake until Linnie gets here?”
Of course, she could. She wasn’t tired. Her eyes were just a little sore, that was all.
“Give me a thumbs-up if you’re okay with me washing you, little owl.”
Mmmn, Tamsyn loved it when he called her that—she was always just Tamsyn or the generic girl within the community. There was never love or affection; just the terse tone of an owner with his hand on the leash of a trained pet.
Merrick didn’t just give her one pet name, but two . He made her feel human despite the fact he didn’t know her real name. That love and affection she’d yearned for after her mother died was right there in his voice, without asking, without her saying a word.
She made a squeaky sound in her throat and popped her thumb in the upright position.
Almost instantly, she was in flight. Not scooped this time, but picked up like a child and settled on his hip for the short three steps to the tub shimmering with gently steaming water that was so clear, she could see a faint pattern on the bottom of the tub.
“It’s not too hot, little owl, but it’s gonna sting for a minute.” Merrick slid her down until her cold feet touched that ethereal surface and sank into wet heat. His hands kept her steady when she wobbled, guiding her down until she sat in the water, hissing between her teeth as her skin tingled and wounds stung. “That’s a good girl. If you feel comfortable enough, you can lay back. I won’t let you go under,” he assured her. “This’ll take ten minutes, fifteen tops.”
Because his voice stroked over her like a hand, Tamsyn tipped her head back; his palm cradled her skull, easing her down until her shoulders touched the tub and water lapped over her chest. It felt so nice, so warm, soaking into her muscles until they went limp.
She heard Merrick say something, then watched as he dunked a pretty yellow cloth into the water and poured pale purple liquid on top. He started with her throat first, lathering her with soap, filling her nose with the scent of flowers.
Her eyes drifted shut briefly as he washed the back of her neck, her shoulders, down to her chest…
And woke as her head slid into the water, her face above the surface.
“Just washing your hair, little owl. Almost done.” Merrick’s eyebrows were creased in concentration, but his eyes were amused when they flicked to hers. “Not trying to drown you, I promise. Did you have a good nap?”
Blearily, she glanced around, waiting for her sluggish brain to function.
Oh, but his fingertips massaging her scalp felt…
The next time she opened her eyes, she was no longer in the bathroom. She was warm and dry, tucked into one side of a huge bed with a stack of pillows behind her. A thick duvet covered her all the way to the top of her breasts, her good arm down by her side, and the broken one on her stomach, elevated by yet another pillow.
It was wrapped in a cold cloth, easing the throbbing ache in the bone.
It was a very manly room, she noted, taking in her surroundings. Thankfully, her brain was faster at rebooting this time, letting her absorb the details.
The walls were cream, punctuated with framed pictures of various landscapes. Places she’d never seen before—a mountain range with the sun barely hovering over the peaks in a sky swirling with pinks and purples, with the last remnants of a starry night behind them. A huge expanse of buildings emersed in fog, a city submerged in nature. A pair of stags, antlers locked, at the side of a lake, their reflection bouncing off the still surface.
The pictures didn’t offer a personal view into the man, but they were beautiful in their own way. In that way, she supposed, they did give a glimpse into who Merrick was; someone who appreciated the beauty of the world around him.
The curtains and bedcovers were chocolate brown, just the right shade to compliment the cream, while the carpet was a hint darker, flecked with specks of gold like tiny stars. In front of the bed, a rustic hearth hosted a simmering fire, casting dancing shadows over the room.
Simple, solid style.
Not that she understood anything about that sort of thing, but the room resonated with her, making her feel at home. It was calm, unruffled, and didn’t twang her nerves like that other… she shuddered, unable to think about that place .
“…other things to do, Merrick. It’s been over an hour already.”
Tamsyn wrinkled her nose at the sound of the doctor’s voice. Maybe she was a nice lady and good at her job, but she—and her equipment —needed to take themselves far, far away.
“You said yourself, she needs the rest. She’s exhausted, Linnie. Fell asleep in the bath after barely a minute.” Merrick’s voice was low but firm. “I don’t mind if you put the IV in while she’s out, but the catheter is an entirely different matter.”
“It didn’t matter to you the first time around.”
“That was a necessity. We didn’t know how long she’d be unconscious. Things have changed; she gets a say in what happens to her body when there’s an option.”
“Consent has to be taken into account.” Another voice agreed, this one oddly accented. “Merrick’s right, Linnie. The IV is a must for her health, but the girl should be involved in decisions that—”
“Fine! Fine, I’m just going to agree because between the pair of you, you’re not going to listen to reason.”
“This is reason, Linnie. Let me see if she’s awake yet. I can insert a catheter blindfolded if that’s what she chooses, but IVs aren’t in my wheelhouse.”
“IVs shouldn’t be a goddamn kink, Merrick. Leave them to the professionals.”
Oh God, they were starting to raise their voices. Anger snapped in the doctor’s tone, unsettling Tamsyn’s nerves. She didn’t want to be the cause of conflict; she hated it.
There were two doors to the left of the fireplace, another to the right, but the voices were coming from the left. Which door were they behind? Did she have time to extricate herself from the duvet and take cover from Linnie’s wrath?
The answer was no.
Before she could move, the door facing her pushed open silently and Merrick padded in on socked feet. He’d changed into a different shirt and a pair of faded denim jeans with a rip on the upper left thigh. As he moved toward the bed, the firelight glinted off his hair like sunlight on a sword.
When he smiled, she was drawn to him on levels she didn’t understand.
“Well now, you’ve got some color back in your cheeks.” He sat carefully on the edge of the bed, angling toward her. “I’m making lunch soon, but I wanted to ask if you have any allergies I should know about.”
Her gaze flicked to the door he’d left open, unwilling to play along with his distraction.
“Yeah, Linnie’s here. A couple of friends came to see how you’re doing as well. They were part of this morning’s search and rescue party,” he added dryly when she slid her eyes to his. “They’ve been worried about you.”
She made a soft harrumph sound. Friends were a dream, a fantasy.
“They can come back another time, little owl. Linnie, on the other hand… Might have to bite the bullet with her, get it over and done.” He cocked his head. “Can you be brave for twenty minutes?”
While she deliberated her limited range of nonverbal answers, Merrick simply watched and waited as though he had all the time in the world. She came to the conclusion she’d rather not be stuck with a needle when the doctor was in a mood.
Shaking her head, she prayed Merrick didn’t make bravery an order.
He didn’t—he did something worse.
Eyes softening with sympathy, he lifted her hand and linked his fingers with hers, strengthening the connection between them. “Can I negotiate for ten minutes? Just ten, darlin’.” When her eyes ticked over to the door again, his lips curved in an understanding smile. “Linnie isn’t pissed at you. She’s angry with me for… other reasons.”
Tamsyn opened her mouth, wanting to ask why , then just closed her eyes when her throat clamped shut. What the hell was wrong with her? No one just forgot how to use their voice. Sighing heavily, she nodded in agreement.
“It’ll be okay,” Merrick murmured, then called out, “Linnie.”
Confusion struck her when a tall, dark-haired figure stepped through the doorway instead of the doctor. She shot Merrick a startled look, shrinking into the mattress when the stranger took two steps into the room and waited. “Apologies, Merrick. Callie and I have to get going sooner than anticipated.”
Oh, this was the man with the weird accent, she realized. Oddly, it suited him. He wasn’t as tall as Merrick, or quite as broad in the shoulders. One glance at his blue eyes, however, and she understood he possessed the same power—an endless depth of dominance and the knowledge of how to use it.
“That’s a shame.” Merrick squeezed her hand. “Little owl, this is Elias. Remember Evander? This is his husband. They have a wife, Callie.”
“Little owl.” That powerful gaze dropping to her face, Elias searched it with an knowing smile curving his lips. “Ah, yes, I see. Very fitting, Merrick, what with those eyes. Not quite hazel, not really brown, but… tawny. Beautiful.”
Tamsyn flushed, ducking her head. She wasn’t used to compliments being given so casually—her father was better at pointing out her flaws, all of them, on a daily basis.
“Callie’s outside with a gift,” Eli continued smoothly, apparently not interested in ridiculing her for being embarrassed. “She was very excited to learn we have a new friend in our midst. Sierra helped her choose it via video call, so it has her seal of approval. Would it be okay for her to come in, or would you like us to come back?”
“Now is perfect, actually.” Merrick tried to stand but she shook her head and tightened her grip on his hand. “We have some unpleasantness ahead, so it’ll be good for her to have something to hold.”
She wrinkled her nose.
Unpleasantness was an understatement.
“I’m glad we can be of assistance. Callie, sweetheart, you can come in now.”
Another dark head peered around the doorjamb, big gray eyes checking out the situation before a pretty woman popped into the room, full of energy. Hands behind her back, she skipped over to Elias, peering up at him with adoration, then studying Tamsyn curiously. “Oh, she’s pretty, Daddy.”
“Yes, she is.”
Callie frowned. “Master Merrick, did you kiss her boo-boos better?”
Wait, Master Merrick? It suited him, sure, but… some of the elders preferred to be called Master, and their idea of being masterful was sentencing a woman to degradation, forced marriage, rape, death…
Which begged the question: Merrick was a Master of what exactly ?
“I’m trying, Callie. Some boo-boos are harder to make better than others. Do you know what might cheer her up?”
The woman—the grown, mature, adult woman—bounced on her tiptoes like a child. She was even speaking like one, which was baffling. Did she have learning difficulties or she like this through choice? She didn’t act like a woman bound to her husband through fear and force.
“How about…” With dramatic flourish, Callie brought her hand in front of her, clutching a stuffed bird. “…this?”
Tamsyn’s eyes focused on the thick, round owl with a pair of glasses perched on its beak. The wings were short, stumpy, and covered in fluffy brown fur with white laced through them, much like the rest of it.
“Sierra said she can make any accessories your... friend wants. He was one of the last ones she was working on before she went back to Phoenix, so he’s clean and all fixed up. She just didn’t have time to dress him for adoption.” Callie beamed at Merrick. “Daddy Vander said you called her little owl , so I thought this was perfect. Did I do good?”
Merrick reached out and took the stuffed toy carefully. “Thanks, sweetheart. You did very good. A little owl for my little owl—I think this was meant to be.” He offered it to Tamsyn with a smile. “Think you can cuddle him while we get those pesky tasks done?”
She wanted that bird. Oh yes, she did.
Gnawing on her bottom lip, she slid her gaze to Merrick’s face. Open, honest, relaxed, with his eyes reflecting those same qualities. If he was eager to start poking holes in her flesh, he didn’t show it.
She sagged and tried to scoop the stuffie under her broken arm. It felt stiff and sore, unwilling to bend, even with the cold cloth easing the worst of the pain. God, she hoped that didn’t mean it was going to throb all night.
Merrick grunted softly and leaned over her, tucking the owl under her uninjured arm. He winked at her, then turned to his friends. “Thank you for such a lovely gift, Callie. You and Sierra picked the perfect stuffie. Two little owls together.”
“You really should call her by her name,” Callie admonished him quietly.
“I will one day,” he promised. “When she feels safe enough to use her voice again. But right now, we have some ouchies to fix.” He looked at Elias. “Appreciate you taking the time, Eli. I’ll catch up with you later?”
“Yes, of course. Let me know when you and your charge are settled in properly. A pleasure to meet you, little one,” he said to Tamsyn, then offered his hand to his wife. “Come on, trouble; let’s go see if you can annoy Evander for an hour.”
“Only an hour?” Pouting, Callie gave Tamsyn a friendly wave, then followed Elias out of the room. “Come find me when you’re allowed to play!”
“She is the world’s smallest living tornado,” Merrick said fondly, watching his friends leave. “All energy, all the time. She’d be a good friend if you want one.”
As with all things in her life, it was never what she wanted that mattered, but what she was allowed. Bringing the stuffie up to her cheek, she rubbed her face against the super soft fur, breathing in the scent of lemons.
She closed her eyes, savoring the brush of the fur over her skin as she heard Linnie come in and start bickering with Merrick. The rustle of disposable packaging made bile rise into her throat; she was aware the next couple minutes were her last moments of freedom. Once the needle was in, she was tied to a bag full of fluids until Linnie decided otherwise.
When everything went quiet, dread filtered into her.
Opening her eyes, she found both Merrick and Linnie waiting patiently—or not so patiently in Linnie’s case as she huffed and checked her watch. There was a tray of medical equipment on the bedside table, and a tall stand with the bag already hooked up within arm’s reach of the bed.
“Ready, little owl?”
Not nearly, but she gave him a little nod just to get the ball rolling and put an end to the queasiness. Maybe her stomach would stop flip-flopping once Linnie was done.
Merrick watched the doctor reinsert the IV, his attention fully engrossed on how to apply the tourniquet and plump the vein, yet his hand was on Tamsyn’s knee in a silent show of support.
A silent whimper rattled in her throat when the canula bit into her skin, followed a few moments later by a cool rush of liquid surging through her veins.
She hated not knowing what they were pumping into her.
The next step was assessing her wrist. After some painful manipulation, Linnie pronounced it still too swollen to cast, and added some extra juice to the IV. Anti-inflammatories and the pain meds that really weren’t necessary.
But when Linnie asked her to spread her legs, Tamsyn refused. Point blank, no negotiation. She didn’t want a stranger touching her, pushing things into her—she could pee just fine on her own, thank you.
“Just leave the stuff, Linnie. I’ll talk to her. If she decides she’d rather have it for a few days until she can walk under her own steam, I’ll put it in.” Merrick shrugged as the doctor skewered him with heated eyes.
“Merrick, it’s completely unorthodox for you to put in a catheter under these circumstances, particularly without a doctor’s supervision. Aside from the fact you have no idea of her history, she’s unable to give you verbal consent.”
“Leave consent to me. Thanks for your help.”
Tamsyn grimaced, flinching as Linnie threw her hands up in the air and stormed out, muttering very uncomplimentary things about hardheaded, cocky Doms and their egos.
“You’re doing very well, little owl.” Green eyes radiant with pride, Merrick ran the backs of his fingers over her cheek. “Gonna reiterate your options here, okay? I can put the catheter in, which takes a couple minutes. Doesn’t feel good, but it means you don’t have to worry about making it to the bathroom in time. Or we can forget about it, and I can ferry you back and forth whenever you get the urge. It’s your choice, darlin’.”
Her bottom lip poked out.
“That’s not an answer. Cute, but not an answer.”
Did she really want him to carry her to the toilet? That was humiliating on so many levels. He’d know what she was doing, and God forbid she needed help. The idea of him having to… she shuddered. No, just no. She was accustomed to a lack of privacy, but even in the community, bathroom time was personal.
Exhaling deeply, not thrilled with either option, Tamsyn jerked her head.
“I think that’s the right choice for now. We’ll get rid of it as soon as you’re back on your feet.” He ran his hand over her soft, clean hair and smiled, then patted her toy on the head with two fingers. “Give me two minutes to do this little thing, and then I’ll go see to lunch, yeah?” At her reluctant nod, he moved away a step, flipping the end of the duvet up to her waist, exposing her legs and pelvis. “Do you know what a safeword is?”
Skinny, bruised legs, she noted in disgust. Lots of small cuts and scrapes where her clothing hadn’t protected her during the fall, but at least the lacerations she’d needed stitching were in less boney areas.
She shook her head. If she had to guess, it was a word that guaranteed safety, but in her world, there was no such thing.
“It’s a word that controls a situation, so if you’re scared or nervous and want things to slow down or stop, you say it. For non-vocal people, we use finger snaps or squeaky toys, something that holds the same weight as the word.” He brushed a lock of hair away from her temple. “Would you like that option?”
Tamsyn nodded, meeting his eyes, trying to tell him she trusted him, but not quite enough to fool around between her legs without some backup. Not that words or finger snaps would stop a mature, adult male from doing what he wanted, but it was nice to have the illusion.
“Smart girl. Can you snap your fingers?”
Brow furrowed in concentration, she gave it a couple of tries, annoyed when her stupid fingers couldn’t perfect the snap. Huffing sharply down her nose, she finally managed to achieve it on the fifth or sixth attempt.
“Very good. Keep going until you can do it without fail.” Merrick collected the tray from the bedside table, setting it between her legs. “I doubt you remember Linnie putting it in the first time around. I’m going to be quick, but I won’t hurt you. If there’s any discomfort or pain, you snap your fingers immediately.”
She wasn’t going to argue with him.
Plucking a pair of gloves from it, he snapped them on, then rested his hand on her upper thigh. “Can you bend your knees for me, darlin’? Bend them and let them fall open. That’s a good girl,” he said easily when she obeyed without thinking. “This won’t take long at all.”
When he reached for something on the tray, Tamsyn squeezed her eyes shut and hugged her owl tightly with one arm. She flinched as latex skimmed over her most private place, her legs trembling.
“Relax, little owl. It’s not going to hurt.” Merrick’s touch was light, clinical.
He spread her lower lips wide with two fingers, then something dabbed the tiny orifice hidden between them. Her pulse jumped when a cold, round head probed her before pushing in.
She didn’t know she’d snapped her fingers until she heard the noise.
What surprised her most, however, was the fact he stopped.
Immediately.
As promised.
“Open your eyes,” he coaxed softly. “Damn, this would be a lot easier if I knew your name. I love calling you little owl, but names have power.”
Warily, she peeked at him through a crack in her eyelids. He waited patiently, his eyes on her face, a faint smile ghosting his mouth. At least he wasn’t angry; she tended to wilt like a hothouse flower in snow when faced with a volatile temper.
“You okay?” he asked. “Did the tube pinch?”
Heat crawled up her face. Sucking on her bottom lip, she gave him a subtle headshake. There wasn’t really an expression or hand gesture that explained she’d mistakenly given him a safeword that wasn’t really a word.
“A little nervous?” His smile grew, radiating sympathy. “That’s okay. Think you can hold on for another minute? I’m almost done.”
Teeth sinking into her lip, she sighed.
After the way the previous tube came out, she really didn’t want another one putting in. The lingering soreness down there was reawakening; she hated how it made her feel tender and raw.
Hugging the owl, she fought the instinct to kick at Merrick, feeling her eyes sting. She didn’t want to hurt him, but she was starting to get overwhelmed. He wasn’t doing anything to make her feel objectified like she was a plaything, or treating her horribly, yet she’d had enough. She hated being in pain, despised not having a voice.
Merrick frowned at her. Stripping off the gloves, he tucked a knuckle under her chin and studied her eyes carefully. “How much discomfort are you in?” When she averted her gaze and shrugged, a thread of steel entered his voice. “Do you not think that’s something you should tell your D—tell me about before I make things worse?”
Honestly, she was probably just making a big fuss over nothing—she was used to suffering quietly. No one else cared if they piled more pain on top of what she already felt; a beating a day stopped a wife from running away , was one of her father’s many mottos.
She couldn’t tell Merrick that, of course, so she stayed silent.
He hummed thoughtfully instead of raging at her. “We’ll forego the catheter. Until you can walk without falling, I’m your ride to and from the bathroom. In the future, you let me know when something hurts, darlin’. Yeah?”
Because he sounded so strict and commanding, Tamsyn agreed. She clenched her teeth as he gently removed the small amount of tubing already inside her, then relaxed once the intruder was gone.
Before he could take the tray away, she set the stuffie to one side and wiggled her fingers at him to come closer. Holding her hand out, palm up, she gestured for him to do the same.
Merrick lifted an eyebrow, but did as she silently asked.
It was only fair she gave him something in return.