No way this rough-hewn bayou man was a virgin, just like Morgan. No. Way.

Granted, he wasn’t attractive in the classical sense. He was filthy and his hair hadn’t been brushed since the Obama administration. But he was built like a freaking skyscraper. If he wanted to get laid, there had to be some swamp girls who’d be down to hit that, right? She didn’t have a vast knowledge of backwoods America, but a man who could provide and protect in this kind of environment had to be a commodity.

And had Rixen seemed a little…embarrassed when he’d admitted to being a virgin?

Just like that, Morgan was relating to a man who’d made an alligator his bitch.

Oh God, how long did it take for Stockholm syndrome to set in? Was she setting a record here for feeling sympathy for her captor? No. No, be strong, girl. Don’t look at the prideful set of his chin and wonder if maybe, just maybe, this man really wanted nothing more than to cherish her with his tongue and some squirrel stew.

Didn’t matter. She wasn’t sticking around. Maybe if she could lull the giant into a false sense of security, she could run for the hills once his big, broad back was turned.

“Hey, uh…”

Morgan trailed off when Rixen carried her over the threshold of his one-story cabin—the symbolism of which was not lost on her—and set her down. A muted glow emanated from a gas lamp in one corner of the room, casting dancing shadows over…the most glorious room she’d ever seen in her life. Thanks to her rich parents who’d spent years trying to outdo each other, she’d seen some swank hotels and fancy vacation rentals in her time. But this rustic retreat put them all to shame.

Embers twinkled in a broad-mouthed fireplace, cushy animal pelts lining the floor in front of it, just begging to be napped on. Book shelves curved in patterns along every wall, as if following a loopy, lazy cursive. A huge picture window took up almost the entire wall opposite the fireplace, looking out over the moonlit water. And the furniture. It looked ready to swallow her whole and never let her up, its comfort was so obvious without even touching it.

Morgan turned to find Rixen watching her from beneath weighted eyelids. An enormous erection tented the lap of his grimy overalls, tension rippling in his gladiator muscles. Despite her limited experience, she knew this was a man in desperate need of relief. Wet spots dotted one denim leg and they continued to spread the longer they regarded each other across the living room. Unbelievably, Morgan found her breath coming faster, her nipples beading inside the triangles of her bathing suit top. What was happening to her? Was something about restraint in the face of his obvious hunger making her hot?

Rixen approached slowly. Here it was. The moment he threw her down and used her body like a sex doll, no regard for her screaming, searing pain.

But instead, Rixen took her hand and guided her into a bathroom, lighting another gas lamp once inside. With the effort it takes to flip a book page, Rixen lifted her onto the sink, putting her face on level with his hairy, muscle-swelled pecs.

“Does it hurt, my gift?”

“A little,” she whispered, shocked at her desire to comb through that coarse hair with her fingers. “Do you have modern medicine out here?”

“I have everything you need,” he said without missing a beat, lifting her ankle in a rough, callused hand. “Anything you want that I don’t have, I won’t rest until I get it.”

“Oh.” Morgan swallowed. “Cool, cool.”

Rixen’s mouth lifted at one end as he leaned in, reaching past her to turn on the sink tap. The hair of his beard grazed her cheek and a hot shiver tickled her spine. Oh man. Full on Stockholm’s. It would claim her unless she fought. If he noticed the conflict in her, he didn’t comment, his focus on her ankle. Cleaning it off with a surprisingly soft washcloth, spreading a salve across the gash and bandaging it, his fingers so gentle, brow creased in concentration. When she found herself studying his mouth a little too closely, she cursed herself inwardly.

“Why haven’t you done it yet?” Morgan blurted, needing a reminder of the situation. Kidnapping in progress, girl. “We both know I won’t be able to fight you off. Maybe you’re getting off on making me wait? Letting me agonize over the when and h-how—”

“You will not fight me if I do it right.” He frowned. “That is my hope.”

“What if I do fight?”

“I will go back to studying how to please you.” Morgan held her breath as Rixen knelt down and kissed her bandaged ankle. “As far as the when, I said I would feed you first.”

“I’m not hungry,” she murmured like an idiot, completely thrown off by the way this alligator wrestler had kissed her booboo.

Rixen’s eyes flared. “I will lick you now, then.”

“W-well, wait.” She searched her mind for a way to stall. No one had ever seen her nether regions before, let alone tasted them. She’d always hoped she’d have the opportunity to get drunk first. Plus, she was supposed to be buying herself time to escape. “You have to clean up first!”

He rose to his full height, forcing Morgan’s head to tip back. “Clean up?”

“Yes. You’ve got dirt all over your face. If you…do that thing you said…all that dirt is going to get on me, too.”

Horror crossed his features. “No. I don’t want that.”

“Then you should shower.” She gave a nervous laugh. “I’ll hang right here and wait for the licking to start.”

“You were able to say it that time,” he rumbled, unhooking one of his overall straps. “You’re warming to the idea.”

She slapped her knee. “Must be!”

Rixen took a hesitant step toward the shower, his overalls only connected by one fastener now. “You will run away, won’t you?”

“No.”

“You’re beautiful even when you lie.”

The betrayal etched on his face made a lump rise in her throat. She needed to deny the fact she would run, but the words got stuck on their way out.

Rixen slipped an arm around her waist and eased her off the sink. “You will shower with me so I can be sure you won’t try to leave.”

“What?”

He unsnapped the other side of his overalls then and the top sagged all the way down to his waist. Morgan could do nothing but stare. Holy Mary, mother of God. His stomach was so ripped in places, she couldn’t even see the bottom of the dividing cuts. A curling, black happy trail ran down the center of the biggest capital V in history, the grooves traveling down his hips and narrowing, narrowing…meeting where the head of his erection jutted out of the denim, helmet shaped and purple, ready to burst.

“I understand you are innocent of men, Morgan,” he whispered in a gravelly tone. “I also understand I am more repulsive than most. Especially the part of me that weeps for you. I promise not to put my cock inside you until you ask for it. Does that ease your fears?”

“Who are you?”

Without answering, he led Morgan to the shower. He slid back a glass door and reached inside to turn the knob, starting a cascade into the oversized tub. Like the rest of the house, it was designed for comfort, all muted grays and moonlight filtering in from a window above. Steam slithered in between them as Rixen pushed his overalls the rest of the way and kicked off his boots.

Don’t look down. Don’t look down.

Morgan looked down and whimpered. “Oh dear.”

Was it her imagination or did Rixen’s face deepen with color? “Only when you ask for it.” His swallow was audibly thick. “It would be an honor to undress you.”

She was definitely losing her mind. That was the only explanation for her considering letting this man take off her clothes. But something inside was still twisted over how he’d called himself repulsive. Truly this man thought himself unwanted. And how many times in her life had she felt the same? “I have m-my bathing suit on under my clothes.” She took a fortifying breath. “Could you just leave it on?”

Intensity like she’d never encountered before filled Rixen’s eyes, shaking fingers curling in the bottom of her tank top and drawing it over her head, revealing her admittedly skimpy bikini top and bare stomach. A pained animal sound echoed off the walls of the bathroom and Rixen spun away. Even from behind, there was no mistake his hand was working furiously on his erection, the muscles of his ass flexing and releasing. “I can’t do this,” he gritted. “You are too sweet and ripe. I can’t stand it.”

“Yes, you can,” she whispered, losing some of her common sense in the steam, apparently. It filled the bathroom, making her wonder if this wasn’t all just some big dream. And if it was, maybe there was no harm in exploring the way her muscles grew languid watching Rixen stroke himself, his back muscles flexing in great shifts. A damp rush made her slick between her legs, in a hot, melting way she’d never experienced. Without a formal command from her brain, Morgan unfastened her shorts and let them drop, stepping into the showers and letting the perfectly heated water rush over her body.

It was a full minute before Rixen stepped in behind her, his body crowding her into the far corner. “Your trust in me grows while my control fades, my gift.” He drew closer, a hand wrapped around his sex, pumping it slowly. “It would be so easy to fuck your little pussy right now. Make it bleed for its first man.”

Oh Jesus. “You won’t do it until I ask.” Which she never would. Right? “You’re a man of your word, aren’t you, Rixen?”

“I am,” he heaved, closing his eyes.

Morgan took a white bar of soap off the window ledge and slipped it into his free hand. “If you’re a good, trustworthy man…” Why don’t you let me go? That’s what Morgan meant to say. But instead, she said, “Why do you call yourself repulsive?”

Rixen breathed through flaring nostrils for several beats, before he released his gigantic manhood and started to soap his body, starting with the unbelievable breadth of his chest and traveling sideways to his underarms. “When we became men, my brothers and I went to town to find wives. They found theirs in a matter of weeks. I…”

“What?”

“I did not appeal to women. They found my way of speaking odd, which did not help matters considering how I look.” He shrugged. “To be honest, they did not appeal to me, either, but I would not ridicule them over something that could not be helped.”

Something pointed stuck in Morgan’s middle. “They were mean to you?”

“Yes,” he said simply. “Unless they were terrified. I’m not sure which was worse.” His eyes found her through the steam. “I came home and started to wait for you.”

Okay, the reminder that Rixen believed her to be a gift should have shaken Morgan from her stupor. It didn’t, though. She couldn’t believe how badly she suddenly wanted to touch Rixen. Her fingers ached to run over the ridges of his chest, the planes of his face. How on earth had she gotten lost in the Everglades and found someone who echoed the same insecurities she’d lived with for so long? Their reasons were different, sure, but the root was there. Buried deep. “I, um.” She took the soap from his hands, lathering it in her palms. “My parents divorced when I was young and I could tell neither of them wanted me anymore. Not for the right reasons. I was a symbol of their failed marriage, you know?” She swallowed her nerves and ran soapy hands up Rixen’s dirt-caked neck, smiling a little as his mouth fell open on a groan. “They made me choose who I wanted to live with permanently. It was the ultimate game for them. And it wasn’t about me—or wanting me. It was just about winning. Owning. When I picked my mother, my dad couldn’t get away fast enough.” She brushed back his wet hair to find him watching her intently. “I know what it’s like not to be wanted. But it’s usually never about you.”

“You will never feel unwanted again, Morgan,” he said unsteadily, leaning down to bring their mouths close. “I’ve been so lonely for you.”

“I’ve been lonely, too,” she whispered.

Their lips brushed together and she felt Rixen’s erection jerk, the heavy weight of it smacking off her belly. “Will you touch me more?”

As Morgan picked up the soap again and rubbed it between her hands, sensations became impossible to ignore. The cling of her bikini material between her legs, the wetness of her triangle top tugging her nipples down via gravity. Rixen’s size. His heat. The way he looked at her. She felt…cherished. Needed. “Close your eyes,” she murmured, lifting her hands to scrub at the filth on his forehead, cheeks and chin. He couldn’t stop turning his face into her touch and a dangerous squeezing began in her chest. “Rinse.”

He put his face under the spray…and came away clean.

Oh Christ. Rixen wasn’t unappealing at all.

No, without the hair in his face and dirt makeup, he was fucking gorgeous. Maybe it was his vulnerabilities that softened the harshness of his features. Or the way he looked at Morgan like she was his entire world. Whatever the reason, the fearsome man she’d encountered in the swamp now appeared different to her. Worthy of touch.

Her touch. And crazy enough, Morgan needed Rixen’s touch as well.

She tugged his wet head down, letting their mouths hover a breath apart. Sexual intuition guiding her way, Morgan looked up at the giant through her lashes. Innocently. Questioningly. “Will you lick me now, Rixen?”

A roar of victory and starvation filled the shower. Her feet left the ground as Rixen tossed her over his shoulder, stomping out of the bathroom and ripping off her bikini bottoms in a mighty fist as he entered the bedroom. Naked from the waist down, she was dropped onto her back in the center of an enormous four-poster bed, a lustful giant wrenching her knees open.