Page 37 of Merrick

“While gagged?”

Another nod.

“I know Landon runs a relatively tight ship there, but you know that’s dangerous, right?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Is it something you wanted to try again? In a better environment, maybe?”

Merrick shrugged, an awkward move with his fingers still clasped at the back of his head. “There’s a lot I haven’t done, and I don’t know what I would like or wouldn’t like, so I can’t really say. But I’d try anything with you.”

Wilder sighed. “Don’t write a check you can’t cash.”

“You’ll stop if I say stop, right?” Merrick asked.

“Of course.”

“Then I can cash it.”

Wilder gently pressed the side of his finger against the bottom of Merrick’s chin, tilting him up enough that he could force eye contact. “I’m not vers, Merrick. I’m never going to prefer topping.”

“I love topping you. I don’t want tonotdo that.”

He hummed. “Tell me more.”

“I like when you’re on top because I can watch your face. The way your eyelashes flutter sometimes, and how you swallow really hard before you come. It makes me want to suck on your Adam’s apple. God, I’m doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

“Talking too much.”

He made a rough grab for Merrick’s face, pinching his cheeks together like a hooked fish. “Enough of that. Do you understand me?”

“Y…yes, Sir.”

“There is no such thing as too much. And in the unlikely event there is, I’ll tell you to stop. Just like you can tell me.”

“Yes, Sir,” Merrick muttered through his puckered cheeks.

“What other things do you want to try?” Wilder asked.

“I…can’t think straight right now,” Merrick admitted.

He exhaled a laugh, leaned in, and slanted their mouths together, kissing Merrick roughly before pulling away.

“Did you get everything you need to paint?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Alright. Lunch then, and we’ll head back to my place.” He reached around and loosened the death grip Merrick had on his own hands. “Up you go.”

Merrick unfolded himself and stood, and Wilder was reminded how broad and beefy the man was. He gathered the toys from the bed and followed Merrick into the living room.There was a wooden box balanced precariously on the back of the couch, which Merrick picked up and tucked carefully under his arm.

“It’s all in there?” Wilder asked.

“Yeah, it’s like a travel thing. Bryce—” Merrick stopped, jaw hanging open.

Wilder could tell he wanted to stop himself, and he watched the debate as Merrick talked himself out of it.