Deacon slid out gently.
He cleaned me tied, untied me, let me work out the kinks then positioned me tucked to his side.
“You sleep okay?” he asked quietly, stroking the skin at my hip with his fingertips.
“Definitely.”
He said nothing for a moment before he asked, “You like it?”
“Yes, honey.”
“Okay, Cassie, then it sucks, but I didn’t.”
I blinked at his chest.
“It’ll happen again ’cause I liked wakin’, ready to take you bound,” he stated. “But I prefer you free to nestle into me.”
I so loved this man.
“Then we won’t do it again,” I said.
“We’ll do it, but like this. I give that to you for a while, then I fuck you, then you give me this.”
Another badass compromise.
I pressed closer. “Works for me.”
His stopped stroking my skin, slid his hand over the cheek of my ass and in the cleft, where his middle finger rested light against me.
“This okay?”
“Yes, baby,” I whispered.
“Harder and rougher or gentler and slower?”
I closed my eyes, loving the feel of Deacon giving me anything.
I opened my eyes. “Whatever you want.”
“I’m up your ass, Cassie, it has to be what you want.”
I sighed and replied, “We could try harder and rougher, but I’d also like to try gentler and slower.”
He slid his hand back to my hip, murmuring, “You got it.”
“Deacon?” I called.
“Yeah, Cassie.”
“Thanks for letting me be me.”
His body tensed and his arm squeezed.
“I, some guys would think that I…” I stopped, swallowed, and continued. “In bed and out, bossy, independent, ornery, and what I like done to me, they’d think—”
He saved me by cutting me off. “Then good you didn’t get some guy, Cassidy. Good you found me.”
He was so right.