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That smirk deepened. “You’re a good girl, Clara.”
I really had nothing to say to that. Merrick had called me a good girl a few times before, but it had always felt affectionate and loving. Coming from Osian’s mouth, it made my skin itch with discomfort.
I barely remembered the rest of our conversation. He flirted with me, even going so far as to kiss my cheek briefly when we parted. Merrick was sober as we watched Osian’s car drive off into the dark.
“What did you think of him?” Merrick asked lightly.
“Honestly…he has some rough edges, but he was nice,” I said.
“I’m glad you liked him.”
The valet fetched the Audi. We were both quiet as he drove down the hill and pulled back onto the road. I was still reeling from my conversation and wishing that Merrick had given me a more detailed answer when I’d asked him about the engagement jewelry.
But then, he never talked about sex. At least not with me.
“Merrick,” I said.
“Yes?’ He glanced at me through the dark, lit only by a red light on the dashboard.
“Osian said he would give me gifts,” I whispered. “Like you said he would.”
“That’s the tradition,” he said. “Has been for a while. You don’t have to, but people might find it strange if you don’t.”
I swallowed. “You never told me what the jewelry was.”
His jaw worked. “Did he tell you?”
“It came up, yes.”
He kept his eyes on the road as he pulled up to the gate outside his house. There was a quiet hiss and they parted, letting us through. He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat.
“It’s generally an intimate piercing.”
I kept my gaze on the dark window, burning up with embarrassment.
“Osian said it was a clit piercing.”
He parked the car and shifted to look at me. “What do you want to know? I assumed you were somewhat aware of this.”
I shook my head. “I’ve been kind of checked out with school and everything.”
He released a sigh. “Well, alright, I can explain in simple terms. It’s not a clit piercing, it’s a VCH, a vertical hood piercing, so it only runs through the hood of your clit.”
My stomach fluttered and I opened my palms, looking down at the damp skin. Listening to him casually talk about my clitoris was a bizarre experience.
“Does it hurt?”
“Well, I don’t have a clitoris, so I couldn’t tell you exactly what it feels like,” he said. “But I’ve heard it’s one of the least painful genital piercings. It’s generally a little bar with a bulb or diamond that rests directly over the clit.”
“What…what is the point of that?”
“Pleasure,” he said.
There was a long silence. “So I’m expected to get pierced,” I said slowly.
He lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “It’s between you two. If you’re very much against it, some women opt to get their nipples pierced instead.”
I sat there, burning up. “You know what I think?”
