Her bodice hit the floor. Morrigan tugged on his hair, trying to get sound out of him, and satisfaction welled in her chest when he balled up her skirts in his fist against the door. He met her eye, and she paused for a second, holding the gaze for a beat. She knew what he was asking — thought she knew what he was asking — and her heart thrummed.

She'd gotten a clinical explanation from her stepmother, the night before she left Brooks. She'd pried more specific details out of Dru. But she'd never actually gone there — she'd touched herself and thought about it and considered what this would have been like, being penetrated, but had never done it. And she was nervous, but —

she did not want to ask for tenderness, would not ask for tenderness.

Mor swallowed. "You want to fuck me?" she asked, voice quiet in a challenge.